All's Fair in Love and Las Vegas

Chapter Seventy-Six

        Making the rounds wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Grayson simply introduced me, we thanked (insert guest) for coming, and moved on. Sometimes they complimented my dress, sometimes they reminisced about a younger Grayson. I was curious to hear more from the woman who had once sold him stock of her frozen custard company when he was only eleven years old, but unfortunately, I didn't get much of a chance to stop and talk to people.

        But then the rounds were over.

        I hated Kylie so much right now. 

        I was presented with a folding chair, which would've made a great murder weapon. I seriously considered it when I saw the gleam of joy in Clay's eyes. He was having way too much fun tying Grayson's wrists behind his back with a pair of shoelaces. Whose shoelaces they were, I didn't want to know. I didn't know how to feel about the fact that Grayson wasn't blindfolded. On the one hand, him blindfolded probably would've just been more embarrassing and awkward. On the other hand, him being blind would've meant he couldn't see anything.

        I should've had a black wedding dress, I thought miserably. Black would've really made sure he couldn't see anything.

        Grayson was helped to his knees (although a good faceplant would've been rather enjoyable) in front of me. He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised as he silently asked if I had changed my mind on his offer of a massive diversion. I gloomily shook my head, knowing that there was no stopping the ceremony of horror now.

        "No funny business," I said under my breath, giving him a warning glare.

        He winked. "Of course, Jackie." 

        That was not reassuring. I rolled my eyes and braced myself, planting my heels on the hard floor. I closed my eyes, hoping that I would black out and wake up on a tropical island. That would be lovely.

        Biting my lip, I faced the ceiling as Grayson went to work on getting under my skirt. I relentlessly told myself to not think about any of it, to imagine that he wasn't there and that he wasn't trying to do what he was currently trying to do. A sharp breeze around my ankles told me that he'd broken past the skirt–but even that was more information than I wanted. I swallowed hard, controlling my shaky breathing.

        My entire body shuddered when I felt his warm breath between my legs. I wanted to yank him away, hoping he had the garter. Instead, Grayson seemed to be taking his sweet time, not at all concerned by the matter. If he didn't hurry, I would kick him.

        Heat engulfed me like a fever. The discomfort was getting unbearable now, and I was ready to either faint or convulse. Thoughts were no longer coherent, feelings no longer attached to sanity. I'd never felt this tense in my life, where all my muscles were ready to revolt and felt like loaded springs. Sweat was forming along my hairline, signaling that I really was in trouble.

        But then Grayson pressed a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh.

        I slapped a hand to my mouth, biting my palm to hold back the whimper caught in the back of my throat. This was worse. So much worse. Why? Because I was absolutely melting at the tiny yet intimate gesture. My head was whirling at the deluge of desperate thoughts washing over me. The swell of butterflies in my gut had grown tenfold, causing both shivers and hot flashes to roll across my skin. I wanted to cry out and beg for him to do it again, but I could already feel the garter loosening. Not to mention we had an audience of five hundred people.

        When the garter finally got down to my ankle, I was finally able to relax a little and let some of the pressure in my head go. I tried to catch my breath, but I must've looked like I'd run ten miles. By the time Grayson surfaced, with the garter clenched between his teeth, I was still slightly shaking, not used to that level of physical contact.