Wedding Reception With Her Father In Law

The reception was in full swing, crystal chandeliers glittering above tables draped in ivory silk and pale roses. Kayla smiled on cue as another guest congratulated her, but the smile never reached her eyes. Twenty-two, stunning in a fitted lace wedding gown that hugged every curve, and already bored out of her mind.

Her new husband, Ethan, was across the room laughing too loudly at his own jokes, his face flushed from champagne. Sweet. Safe. Bland. The kind of man who would always ask permission before he touched her tits and would finish in under four minutes. She’d known it for months, but the ring had already been on her finger by the time the truth fully settled.

A large, warm hand settled on her lower back.

“May I have this dance, Mrs. Caldwell?”

Marcus’s voice was low, rough, like gravel wrapped in velvet. Ethan’s father. Silver fox didn’t even begin to cover it. Fifty-one, broad-shouldered, with a trimmed salt-and-pepper beard and piercing blue eyes that had always seemed to see straight through her. He wore his tuxedo like it had been tailored to torment women. The jacket stretched across a powerful chest, and the pants… God, those pants.

Kayla let him guide her onto the dance floor. The band shifted into a slow, sultry number. The moment his big hand splayed possessively across the small of her back, heat flashed through her belly. Then he pulled her closer, and she felt it—thick, heavy, and unmistakably hard—pressing against her stomach through the thin fabric of his trousers.

Her breath caught.

Marcus’s lips brushed her ear as they swayed. “You look so fucking tight in that dress, Kayla. Like a little virgin bride even though we both know you’ve been letting my son fumble around between your legs for over a year.”

The filthy words slid into her ear like warm whiskey. She should have pulled away. Instead her nipples stiffened against the lace of her bodice.