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Wrong Groom

Original price was: $2.99.Current price is: $2.39.

What happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay there…
In Vegas for her friend’s impromptu wedding, curvy Jayne Deaux surrenders to a stranger. Patrick satisfies all her secret desires, but morning brings recriminations and revelations. Her perfect night of passion might have been the biggest mistake of her life.

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EXCERPT

“Jayne Daux.” She still couldn’t quite believe he was sitting there, conjured as if by magic, and it took her a moment to remember to let go of his hand. Sternly, she tried to compose herself and stop acting like an awestruck teenage girl.

Patrick laughed. “Jane Doe, huh? I see you want anonymity.”

She shrugged, not bothering to explain it was her real name. Her mother and father had thought it clever to pair Jayne with their last name, hence she was forever cursed to be “Jane Doe” because of it.

“What brings you to Vegas?”

“A wedding,” she said.

“Yours?” he asked with an arched brow before sipping the amber liquid from his crystal glass.

“Not hardly.” She nearly died when an unladylike snort escaped her.

“I would guess you don’t hold much esteem for the institution?”

“It’s fine for some, I guess.” Jayne ruthlessly squashed the little-girl voice in her head that tried to remind her of all the years she’d spent planning a fantasy wedding that seemed unlikely to take place. Far better to be pragmatic about not getting married, and embrace it. After all, with sixty percent of marriages ending in divorce, what was the point?

“Neither do I. Having experienced it once was enough for me.”

She nodded. “Why are you here?”

Patrick’s luscious-looking lips bowed into a rueful smile. “For a wedding—not my own,” he added with a sparkle in his eye.

Jayne glanced at his left hand, finding it bare of a ring. “Divorced?”

“Yes.” Patrick seemed to lean in closer than necessary when he put his empty glass on the long table in front of the couch. “You?” His breath washed across her cheek, and he made no effort to move back.

“Not even close.”

“Smart woman.”

The conversation stuttered for a moment, and Jayne cast about for something witty to say. Her brain seemed to be made of slush, and she cursed the number of drinks she’d had. If ever there was a time to be clearheaded, now was it. “Would you like to dance?” Her eyes widened when she issued the invitation. What the hell was she thinking? Though she could dance passably, the last thing she wanted to do was press her body against his and so vividly reinforce how big she was.

“Yes.” He took her hand, not giving her a chance to retract the invitation. Jayne tried to convince herself all would be well. Patrick already knew she was bigger than the stick women in the club. He’d have to be blind not to notice the discrepancy. The fact that he’d approached her had to mean something. Pressing her body against his probably wouldn’t send him running away.

To her surprise, he bypassed the dance floor and led her up the staircase. As they neared the opened door of the balcony, the cool desert wind beckoned, blowing against her flushed face in a welcoming caress. She followed him outside, averting her eyes politely from the couples in various clenches congregated around the balcony. Few eyes focused on the gorgeous view of Vegas.

The music was still audible, but muted, allowing for conversation. Patrick didn’t seem to want to talk as he took her into his arms. Jayne held herself stiffly, trying to keep her large breasts and her stomach from resting against his frame. When he started massaging the small of her back, she found it impossible to maintain her stiffness. With a small whimper of defeat, she melted against him.

“That’s much better,” he said through the thick fall of hair covering her ear.

“It’s a lovely night.” The inane observation was silly, especially considering her view was basically the cut of his dark suit. At five-nine, she was tall, but he made her feel almost petite.

“Much lovelier now.” The hand he’d had on her lower back inched downward. He paused at the curve of her hip, as if waiting to see if she would stop him.

Jayne held her breath, indecision making the choice for her. When she didn’t speak up or step away, Patrick rested his hand on her buttocks, squeezing lightly. She shivered at the contact.

“Cold?” The huskiness in his tone revealed his own excitement.

“Hot,” she said brazenly.

Patrick pulled her closer, moving both hands to massage her ass. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Jayne swore she had to be dreaming as Patrick eased her against the wall, somewhat in shadows. He kept a hand possessively on her right butt cheek, but brought the other one around to rest just under her breast. She tipped back her head as he lowered his, parting her lips in invitation. His mouth was firm and sure against hers, his lips forming to hers as though they had been molded to fit together. She sighed into his mouth, overwhelmed by how perfect the kiss was.

Patrick slipped his tongue inside, stroking hers in a languorous fashion. Jayne darted her tongue around his, parrying and thrusting with lustful intensity. When he lifted his head, she whimpered at the lost contact.

He cupped her breast, his thumb stroking a circle just outside the boundary of her nipple. “I’d like to say something, but I don’t know whether to be blunt, or if I should tiptoe around it for a bit first.”

Instinctively, Jayne tensed, preparing herself for a commentary on her body. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had said something cruel in the heat of the moment, perhaps thinking he was doing her a favor by pointing out her flaws—as though she remained unaware of them. “I prefer honesty,” she said coolly, already mentally disengaging from the handsome stranger who still held her so intimately.

“I want to have sex with you.”

 

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