When she doesn’t say anything, I crash my lips into hers and she gasps as her fingers knot into my hair. Crushing my body against hers, my hand wanders down her side, along the curve of her breast, each rib, and to the bottom of her dress. I reach up it, grab hold of her panties, and slide them down her legs. When they’re to her knees, she draws back slightly and kicks them off, and then she flips the button of my jeans open. I lift her up and press her against into the tree as I thrust inside her.
When I reunite my mouth with hers, she bites down on my lip. It drives me crazy as she gently pulls my lip ring into her mouth while running her tongue along it. Holding her by the hip, my other hand travels up her body to the top of her dress, and I yank it down to cup her breast.
Her eyes glaze over as she her head falls back. “Micha, I do love you but I…”
I kiss her fervently, drawing away only for a second to say, “I love you too.”
Ella
I don’t know how it’s possible for it to feel this good, just because he’s inside me, but it does. God, it does. My intentions weren’t meant to lead to sex when I went out into the forest. I just wanted to tell him the truth away from everyone—he deserved the truth.
I think Lila was right, though. Micha’s love owns me and I’ll probably always end up giving into him as long as he keeps trying. But I still fear I’ll break him, and that boy is too damn sweet and beautiful to ruin.
He’s thrusting inside me as he pins my arms above my head and the bark of the tree scrapes my back. But it’s worth the pain as I scream out in bliss and my worries fleetingly vanish.
His movements begin to slow, and then he pushes deep inside me one last time, before stilling. We pant, fervently clinging onto to each other, our skin damp, our hearts racing.
“I really love that dress,” he whispers in my ear and the heat of his breath makes me shiver. “You look beautiful in it.”
A smile touches my lips and I slant back to look him in the eyes. “You tell me that too much. It’s making me cocky.”
“No, I’m the cocky one.” His smile is almost blinding.
My face turns serious as I lightly brush my swollen lips to his. “We still need to talk—”
“Ella!” Lila’s voice echoes through the forest. “Caroline needs you!”
I jump out of Micha’s arms and adjust my dress back over my br**sts as I search the ground. “Where’s my underwear?”
Micha laughs as he watches me search through an area of tall grass. “I guess you’re going to have to make it through the day without them.”
I put my hands on my hips. “You want me to stand up in front of a bunch of people, at a wedding, without anything on underneath my dress?”
He shrugs, doing up the button of his jeans. “It’d be kind of nice. You could have a cool breeze and if you bent over just right—”
“Ella!” Lila’s voice is getting closer. “Where the heck are you? I know you came out here! I saw you!”
“Micha, please, if you know where they are, just tell me.” I peek behind the tree and when I turn around, he has a smile on his face and my black thong is dangling off his finger.
I snatch them away and slip them back on, smoothing out my dress. Then I hurry back through the trees, pulling bits of leaves and twigs out of my hair with Micha at my heels, chuckling under his breath.
Lila is waiting at the border of the forest and her eyebrows arc when she sees Micha is with me. “Umm… Caroline needs you to get ready.” Laughter hints her voice.
“Okay.” I hurry up the hill, leaving the two of them to walk back to the canopy together.
I don’t know what to do. I still believe that I’m not good for him, even though he insists the opposite, but I can’t seem to stay away from him.
Around the corner of the canopy, there is a line of bridesmaids dressed in the same black velvet dresses and the groomsmen wearing matching tuxes. Caroline is at the front next to her father, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair. Her wedding dress is beautiful, not quite white but close, with a black ribbon tied around the center and the bottom flowing out at the waist.
Caroline’s expression relaxes as she presses her hand against her heart, crushing some of the flowers in her bouquet. “Thank God, Ella.” She bunches her dress up and rushes toward me. “Why do you have leaves in your hair?”
My hand shoots up to my hair and bits and piece of twigs fall out. “I went for a walk in the woods.”
“Hurry up and get in line.” She gives me a small bouquet and shoos me toward the back of the line. “It’s about to start.”
I hurry beside the groomsman, who’s shorter than me with black hair that curls up at his ears. He’s probably my age and I feel his eyes on me, checking me out, but my attention remains ahead at the front of the line. Inside, Dean is standing next to the minister in his tux and his brown hair is styled to the side. He looks happy and I envy him with every ounce of my heart.
I’ve never thought about marriage like most girls do. When I was younger, I didn’t play dress up and make the boy next door be my groom. I never looked that far forward into the future, because I feared what lay ahead.
But watching Dean about to get married, I wonder if marriage is in my future. I struggle to breathe as panic strangles me, wanting to see it, but all there is is a black hole with no images.
The music starts and my thoughts snap back to reality. The line moves forward gradually and the groomsman links arms with me.
“My name is Luke, by the way,” he whispers in my ear.
I jolt away from him. “Mine’s Ella.”
He smiles at me as we enter into the canopy where purple and black ribbons hang from the ceiling, lights sparkle along the walls, and rows and rows of violets decorate the front area. Everyone is staring and I grow more anxious, but I breathe through it. When we reach the end of the aisle, I happily release Luke’s arm and walk to the back of the row of bridesmaids.
Clutching onto the bouquet, I focus on Caroline and Dean, but there is a heightened sense of awareness that Micha is watching me from the back row.
The minister starts his speech and my mind automatically drifts to my future again. I want to see it desperately. I want to know how my life goes.
Adrenaline consumes my body and I fidget with the petals on the violet flowers, mentally telling myself to stay calm as Dean and Caroline read their vows. Listening to their words of love and commitment, my body stills. I want this. So much. I want someone to be mine forever—I want Micha.
But I need to become a person we can both love; otherwise we’ll never make it.
Chapter 9
Micha
I can’t take my eyes off her the entire ceremony. She’s never been much of a crier in public so it’s startling to watch her try to choke back the tears and all I want to do is comfort her.
Dean looks really happy, which kind of annoys me. Ella might have dusted what he did under the rug, but it doesn’t mean anything to me. He’s part of what broke her—part of why Ella will never be the same girl.
The minister declares, “You may kiss the bride.”
Dean and Caroline lean into one another and kiss, and everyone stands up and claps. As they walk down the aisle, people throw rose petals at them from the baskets placed in front of each chair. Lila collects a handful and joins in, throwing petals in the air.
Ethan rolls his eyes. “I suddenly remembered why I never go to weddings,” he utters under his breath. “They’re too cheesy for me.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I reply, not completely agreeing with him. “But the cheesiness does have a point.”
Once Caroline and Dean leave the canopy, the groomsmen and bridesmaids follow in a line. The guy Ella’s been paired up with annoyingly keeps checking her out and he whispers something to her as they walk outside.
The crowd moves across the yard to the back deck of the house, where another canopy is set up over tables decorated with rose petals and candles. There are lights strung across the ceiling and a massive chocolate fountain against the back wall.
Ella waits at the front where a cameraman is getting set up to take pictures. As she waits, her gaze collides with mine. She rolls her eyes, like she thinks this whole thing is silly and I wink at her.
Ethan, Lila, and I steal a few glasses of champagne and plates of cake and pick a table near the bar, drinking in silence as the music turns on.
“So how long are we obligated to stay here, do you think?” Ethan gags on the glass of champagne. “God, rich people have bad taste in drinks.”
“Hey,” Lila protests, setting her glass on the table. “I think it’s good.”
“That’s because you’re rich,” Ethan jokes, shoving up the sleeves of his shirt, and then he takes a bite of his cake. “And you were brought up to think that expensive stuff tastes good.”
Lila sticks out her tongue and there’s purple frosting on it. “I think you might be the one with bad taste.”
Ethan scrunches his eyebrows, like he’s overthinking. “Nah, I have excellent taste.”
Ethan used to give me crap about Ella and my needing to screw and get it over with. I’m considering telling him the same thing about Lila and him.
Ella drops the bouquet before slumping into the chair next to me. “God, weddings are exhausting.”
I pluck a piece of grass out of her hair and flick it on the ground. “You want to get out of here? We could go get some dinner or something.”
“I can’t leave yet.” She frowns, rests her head back on the chair, and stares up at the ceiling. “There are more pictures to come.”
She straightens up in the chair and steals a bite of my cake, leaving a little bit of purple frosting on her bottom lip. I want to lean over so badly and lick it off.
“What?” she asks when she notices me staring.
I reach toward her and she freezes as my thumb grazes her bottom lip. “We should dance.”
She arches her eyebrows. “Since when do either of us dance?”
“We always dance.” Extending my hand to her, I get to my feet.
“But our dancing is a lot different than their dancing.” She points a finger at the area where people are slow dancing. “We’d probably scar their innocent little minds.”
“Come on, Ella May, dance with me.” Dazzling her with my most alluring smile, I keep my hand out, hoping she’ll take it.
Sighing, she laces her fingers with mine, and I pull her to her feet. When we reach the center of the dance floor, I twirl her around and collide her into me. A smile tugs at her lips as I put my hands on her hips. Guiding her closer, she hooks her arms around the back of my neck.
As we dance to the music, I put my lips beside her ear and sing along with the lyrics.
She leans back to look me in the eyes. “How do you know the lyrics to “The Story”? Most guys don’t listen to Brandi Carlile.”
“Shh… don’t tell anyone.” I wink at her and hug her closer. “And you used to listen to this song all the time. How could I not know the lyrics?”