Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
No man had ever looked as handsome as Will did in his tux, hair neatly parted on the side, face shaven around his mustache, and that irresistible look in his eyes, like we shared a secret.
My cherry nearly spontaneously popped right next to the altar. When I took my place and faced the guests, he winked.
Dead.
I swallowed and focused on anyone but him so I wouldn’t pass out.
The string quartet played “A Thousand Years” as Victoria’s dad walked her down the aisle. I planned my wedding to Will.
Our house in Montana (because I knew I’d find a job wherever he wanted to live).
Two kids spaced three years apart.
A bird named Marie Curie.
And a Yorkshire terrier—Rosalind Franklin.
My romantic heart skipped so many beats during the ceremony because even when I wasn’t looking at Will, I could feel his gaze on me. The butterflies in my tummy multiplied, making my hands feel clammy around the bouquet.
After vows and rings were exchanged, the minister pronounced them husband and wife, they kissed, and the bridesmaids paired up with the groomsmen to follow them into the building.
“Dr. Reichart,” Will said, offering me his arm.
I grinned at the guests. “I’m not a doctor yet,” I whispered, swallowing my giggle through a smile.
“Does that mean you can’t give me a thorough physical after the reception?”
I tightened my grip on his arm, hoping no one heard him. Once inside, we were forced to go our separate ways for the formalities dictated by the wedding planner.
It wasn’t until after the sit-down dinner, toasts, and cutting of the cake that the wedding party was free to mingle. I jumped in my seat, feeling something like a spider on my neck. Will smirked, standing behind me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He ran his fingertips along my skin where it met my dress. “I’m investigating.”
“Investigating?” I tried to control my breathing, but it was impossible with his fingers caressing my skin.
“Looking for zippers, hooks, buttons . . .”
“Whyyy?” I asked slowly.
“I need a game plan so I don’t destroy your dress later when I take it off.”
Gulp.
I knew the answer to the question, but his official confirmation made my insides turn into molten lava. Victoria’s instructions replayed in my head. Five . . . ten minutes, tops. Pop the cherry. Cordial goodbye. The end.
But I didn’t want wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. I wanted yearning, foreplay, and unbridled passion. Making love for hours. Refuel. Repeat.
Could my vagina handle a marathon with no formal training? I didn’t know.
“I think your attire is far more complicated than mine,” I said.
“Stand up.” He helped me scoot back in my chair.
When I stood and faced him, he slid a hand around my waist and walked us backward a few steps until the dim light and a tall planter hid us.
“Map me out,” he said.
I wrinkled my nose. “Huh?”
“If my attire is complicated, then map everything out. My buttons. My zipper.”
With a nervous laugh, I shook my head. “I think I’ll be just fine.”
“Are you too chicken?” He gave me a challenging look, eyes narrowed.
I swallowed and touched his tie, tracing it around his neck. Will’s hooded eyes studied me like we were already naked, and the temperature in the room rose ten degrees. My fingers found every shirt button, including his cuff links.
“Easy peasy,” I said.
“What about my pants?”
My heart drummed until all I could hear was a deafening whoosh pulsing in my ears.
“I’m sure it’s a standard button and zipper.”
“That’s just a guess.”
We had a brief stare-off before I surveyed our surroundings for curious onlookers. Then I touched his belt and the button behind it. My thumb found the tip of his zipper.
“Keep going,” he murmured.
Again, I swallowed, hands shaking as I slid my index finger along his zipper. I felt something else too.
“There you are,” Mel, one of the other bridesmaids, said.
I jumped so fast my heart lodged in my throat and nearly suffocated me.
“Victoria needs to pee, and her personal assistant is MIA. Come on, we have to help her.” She pulled at my arm.
I looked back at Will, and he winked again.
Jesus.
I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Did Mel see me? Did anyone else?
“Where were you?” Victoria asked when we reached the bathroom. “I’m dying here.”
She was also a little intoxicated, wobbling on her feet as we guided her over the toilet. Mel held her dress, and I had the pleasure of pulling down her underwear.
“She was giving one of the groomsmen a hand job,” Mel said.
“What? Oh my god! No I was not!” I glared at Mel, and she smirked.
“Oh come on, Ev, just get it over with already.” Victoria rolled her eyes while peeing for days. It was a miracle she didn’t wet herself.
“Get over what?” Mel leaned forward to look at me.
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“Not nothing,” Victoria said. “She’s a virgin. And I told her doctors aren’t virgins.”