Page 34 of Orc'd At A Wedding

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For a long moment, neither of us moves.

We just breathe.

Her fingers are still tangled in my hair, her legs wrapped around me, her forehead pressed against my shoulder. I can feel her racing heartbeat against me, can smell the salt of her sweat mixing with jasmine perfume and sex.

"That was real," she finally whispers.

"Very real," I confirm roughly.

She pulls back just enough to look at me, her expression soft and vulnerable and terrifyingly open.

"What happens now?"

I brush a strand of damp hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Now," I say slowly, "we clean up, rejoin that godforsaken dinner party, and pretend we weren't just fucking in a public restroom."

She huffs a breathless laugh.

"And after the wedding?"

I meet her gaze steadily.

"After the wedding, we figure out how to make this work when you're not paying me by the hour."

Her eyes fill with tears, the good kind this time, and she kisses me softly.

"I'd like that."

We manageto make ourselves presentable with remarkable efficiency considering we just thoroughly desecrated a luxury hotel restroom.

Bliss's dress is wrinkled and her carefully styled hair is a disaster, but she looks happy. Genuinely, radiantly happy in a way I haven't seen all weekend.

I retrieve my ruined shirt from the floor, grimacing at the wine stains.

"I have a backup in the room," I tell her.

"Of course you do."

I arch an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're the most prepared person I've ever met," she says fondly. "You probably have backup cufflinks and emergency shoe polish."

"And a lint roller," I confirm. "Standard protocol."

She starts laughing again.

I help her down from the counter, steadying her when her legs wobble slightly, and she grips my forearms for balance.

"Wow," she breathes. "Okay. Walking is harder than I expected."

Pride surges through me, primitive and possessive.

"I'll carry you if necessary."

"As much as I would enjoy that," she says wryly, "I think showing up to the rehearsal dinner in your arms might raise questions."