The Wedding Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) by Suzanne Halliday Read Free Book Online Page B

modern day Aphrodite even though you like to pretend otherwise.”
    The only thing she had to contribute was a skeptical smirk.
    “Sweetie, he honed in on you like a bee to a flower. Kyle said he’d never ever seen him react that way before. That has to count for something. And he hasn’t taken his eyes off you for more than a few seconds.”
    Andi eyed her curiously for a minute then murmured, “That’s not the behavior of a man looking to score a wedding affair.”
    Wedding affair. Ugh. They made movies about such things and the women always came off as bimbos and sluts. The guys did too—mostly—which was exactly why these things were not her cup of tea.
    But she heard the point Andi was making.
    “Just get to know him, babe. I mean, you two are going to be attached at the hip for the next couple of days anyway. Once the wedding is over, and all of this is behind us, then you can think about what comes next. Stop borrowing trouble, Sami. Let loose. Have some damn fun. You never know what’ll happen until you give life another try.”

S tanding buck-ass naked on the private lanai of his ocean view room, Ryan took in the spectacular scenery and downed a cup of Kona coffee. He’d been up since o-dark-thirty, the result of a restless night, so how much coffee he consumed might decide how he handled the morning ahead.
    After checking to be sure that an adequate cushion was present to protect his balls from the unforgiving wicker of a chair at the small patio table, he dropped into the seat and set the coffee mug down.
    Growling like a bear, he tried shaking off the sluggish remnants of his sleep-deprived state by scraping his fingers back and forth against his scalp.
    The ocean crashing ashore became the background accompaniment to the harsh noise from dragging a surprisingly heavy ottoman up to his seat. Propping his legs on the cushion, Ryan crossed his feet at the ankles, leaned back, and let out a deep sigh.
    Then, with a groan mixed with frustration and disgust, he inspected his morning hard-on through narrowed eyes and reached again for the coffee.
    For an erection lasting more than four hours . . .
    Pfft. What a joke. No little blue pill required for this apparently permanent state of affairs. Nope. All he had to do was spend two minutes thinking about Samantha Evers and every ounce of blood in his body went rushing to his dick.
    She was his own personal erectile facilitator.
    Erectile facilitator.
    He laughed out loud. Holy shit but that was funny.
    Immediately, his mind switched to design mode as a tableau of erotic drawings featuring an enormous shaft, his , being worked over by a mind-melting pair of lips, hers , dominated his thoughts.
    So. . .pretty much a looping repeat of the dirty vignettes that kept him awake last night.
    Sure. Why the hell not?
    Laying his head back on the rim of the chair, Ryan closed his eyes and swam in the ocean of sexy scenes he’d imagined.
    Samantha in a pair of tiny shorts bent over the hood of his classic Camaro. Her front covered in suds as she stretched and wiggled to wash the dark blue car.
    Or Samantha, destroying a strawberry milkshake by furiously sucking the frozen treat through a straw. That one almost made him lose his shit.
    But the one he went back to time and again was Samantha with her arms and incredibly sexy legs wrapped around him as he delivered a barrage of perfect thrusts—slow, hard, deep, and purposeful. She whimpered and shook—oh, yeah, and was dripping wet.
    Was he fucked up in his thinking? Probably, but what guy wasn’t?
    The sexually frustrated erotic dreams were to be expected. It was the price he paid for spending the last year without a woman.
    Being somewhat jaded about modern relationships, Ryan worried he was too old-fashioned in his thinking. Something for which he did not apologize. No use in pretending he hadn’t fucked his way across Europe and through most of New York City too. Too much anonymous pussy under the bridge for