LITMIR.BIZ

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It was...wholesome. The thought of only getting that kind of mundane missionary sex for the rest of her life was a nightmare. But what choice did she have short of running away? They were all pushing her down the damn aisle kicking and screaming.

      Although she and Jarrod had only been together a short six months, she’d grown addicted to their trysts, the way he made her body feel. When she ultimately walked down the aisle and became Thom’s wife, maybe she would have to find a way to be with Jarrod. She didn’t think she would survive what was sure to be a lackluster marriage otherwise.

      She’d met Jarrod at a fund-raising gala. His wife had hung on his arm, but as far as Elana was concerned, Jarrod Jones was the real star, and she’d made it her business to introduce herself. She made her move when she spotted Jarrod alone by the bar. She walked over to make his acquaintance.

      His smile was slow and hot. His dark eyes picked up the light and quickly dipped down to enjoy the show of her bountiful cleavage barely encased in a formfitting bloodred Herve Leger gown. “Elana Marshall.”

      “So you know who I am.” She rested her jewel-encrusted purse on the bar top.

      He got her a drink; they talked. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

      “Dance with me.”

      She put her drink down, picked up her purse and let him lead her onto the crowded dance floor. They found a spot in the shadows of the ballroom near the door. Jarrod held her respectably close while the chatter and music from the band floated around them. His fingers lightly played with the exposed flesh on her back, sending electric waves of need racing through her.

      “We move very well together, don’t you think?” he’d whispered in her ear.

      “I’m sure this is only the beginning of us moving together,” she’d whispered back. “Am I wrong?”

      “Far from it. I’m pretty sure I can prove it to you.”

      She’d glanced quickly around. Her family was well on the other side of the room. “When?” she asked a bit breathless.

      “Now.”

      “Show me.”

      He’d released his hold on her, took her by the hand and led her out of the ballroom. They casually walked passed guests milling in the corridor, sneaked into the stairwell and went up one flight.

      They were barely on the deserted landing before Jarrod pulled her tightly against him and kissed her. She could have sworn rockets went off when she tasted him for the first time, a mixture of his own essence and the heat of the whiskey he’d drunk.

      Jarrod pressed her up against the wall. His hands were everywhere. She’d fumbled with his zipper. He slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders and dipped his head to feast on her tempting flesh.

      She knew how crazy and dangerous this was, but she couldn’t stop herself. It was as if she’d been shot with some kind of drug. She was so wet and needy that her hands shook when she’d tried to release him from his pants. When she did and felt him in her hand for the first time, she’d gasped.

      Jarrod chuckled deep in his throat. He gathered the folds of her dress and tugged it up, cupped her in his palms while Elana raised her leg to wrap around him. He dipped his tongue deep into her mouth an instant before...

      A door opened below them, followed by footsteps coming their way. Jarrod didn’t seem to notice or care.

      Elana looked over Jarrod’s shoulder to see the stunned expression of her brother Rafe.

      “Elana! What the hell?”

      Jarrod swiftly zipped up before turning around.

      When Rafe saw who it was that had his sister backed up into a corner, half-undressed, he lost it. He darted up the steps, grabbed Jarrod by the shoulder and shoved him hard. “You low-life bastard.” Then he turned his outrage on his sister. “Get yourself together. Mom and Dad are ready to make their announcement and want all of us there.”

      Rafe flashed a lethal look at Jarrod, who took his cue, brushed by Rafe and descended the stairs.

      Elana had been more annoyed than humiliated. “Thanks, brother dear.” She pushed by him and returned to the ballroom. Of course Rafe told their mother, who went off on one of her epic tirades, but it didn’t stop Elana. Once she got a taste of what things could be like with Jarrod, there was no turning back for her.

      The very next day, she found the number for the studio where he worked and called him. She apologized for her overzealous brother and indicated that they had unfinished business.

      Jarrod told her that his wife had left that morning for a movie and would be out of town for at least a month, and that he felt a bout of loneliness coming on. She assured him that she had the cure for that.

      When she pulled up to his house later that afternoon, it was the beginning of a ride that she had no intention of getting off. That first time with Jarrod was beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her life. She was totally addicted and found all kinds of ways to be with him. She became expert in concocting one lie after another to be with Jarrod, from shopping trips to doctor’s appointments—whatever it took.

      And then Thom asked her to marry him, and the secret world that she’d built with Jarrod came crashing down. At least if he’d proposed in private she could have gently told him no. But instead he did it in front of her entire family, and of course they were beyond ecstatic.

      So here she was, on the cusp of marrying a man who would be perfect for someone else, but for her the lights simply didn’t come on. She did care, she cared deeply about Thom, about their longtime friendship. But love...passion...

      Elana flipped onto her side, laced her arm across Jarrod’s chest and snuggled against him.

      “Any luck in postponing the wedding?” Jarrod asked, his voice thick and dreamy.

      Elana snuggled closer. “No,” she whimpered. “I don’t know that I can, especially now with all that happened with my father. And...” She hesitated. She wanted to tell him about the Fixer. Maybe Jarrod could help her figure out who it was—then maybe her family wouldn’t continue to paint her as the flighty idiot of the group. But she really didn’t know enough to be able to tell Jarrod much of anything. The last thing she wanted was for Jarrod to think she was silly, too. Besides, if she didn’t marry Thom, did that mean that Jarrod would leave Finola?

      Jarrod talked from time to time about how unhappy he was and even hinted that he wished he could walk away from it all. Of course she couldn’t push the idea, considering her own convoluted situation. And to be honest, what would life with Jarrod even be like? Besides mind-blowing sex and listening to complaints about each other’s significant other, they didn’t have much in common. She and Thom had a lot in common... Still, she would opt for great sex and no conversation over what her life was mapped out to be.

      Her cell phone flashed the reminder on the bedside table: Meet Thom.

      “And what, babe?” He stroked her cool hip and brought her thoughts back to the conversation.

      “I tried to mention to Thom the other day that maybe we should wait until my dad is better, and he practically flipped out on me. Then my mother twisted the guilt knife.”

      He frowned. “How?”

      Elana sighed deeply. “She said my father’s biggest wish is to see me marry Thom.” Her voice broke. “It’s almost like a damned deathbed request at this point. If they are going to make me get married, I want to at least have my father walk me down the aisle. No one seems to get that.” She sniffed back tears as images of her father in that hospital bed, barely recognizable, flashed in her head.

      “I don’t want you to worry, baby. Your father will come through.” He eased her closer and stared up at the mirrored ceiling, their bodies on full display. Elana’s incredible form still radiated in the afterglow. Her perfect breasts stood high, her peaked nipples dark against her tanned skin. The

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