Free The Best Man's Bridesmaid by Raven McAllan Page B

prayed. And his prayers were half answered. Charlie decided the gods were having fun.
    As the newlyweds got into their decorated open carriage and drove away, Charlie looked in relief at the carriage halting in front of him and Caroline. Open, thank goodness. Nowhere to hide, no chance of taking liberties, if that was indeed what his mind—and body—were dwelling on. “Ice, ice,” he muttered once more. Beside him he heard Caroline’s soft giggle. What was it about this woman that affected him so? The door was opened to allow him to assist Caroline up into the carriage. Once she was settled, he followed close behind. As they settled the coachman drew away.
    “What the hell was Harry thinking? Open carriages. It’s March, not June. And it’s bloody freezing.” In his agitation, he forgot that he was addressing a lady and had hoped for an open carriage to contain his ardor. But in this weather? “Thank God for the rug. Or my balls would freeze off. And your nipples are so standing out so stiffly, if I tou… Oh b… I mean…” he trailed off before causing any more offence than he thought he must have already. Instead he tucked the rug around her legs. To his amazement she just laughed and rearranged it to cover both of them from the waist down.
    “It still won’t stop my nipples from standing out so stiffly,” she remarked as she took hold of his hand under the cover. “Though as you can’t touch them, they will neither warm up or be tweaked off.” She chuckled. “Oh, Charlie, you should see your face. Have I shocked you?”
    He smiled. “Not at all, my dear. Pleased, surprised, happy, and amazed, but not at all shocked. You obviously have hidden depths. I look forward to discovering what you will say or do next.”
    “Oh, I’m so glad you said that.” Her hand, soft and somewhat chilled, squeezed his. “But I feel I must reassure you that whatever I seem to know, there has only been, and will only ever be, you for me, or in me.” She released the hand that she had put in his and waved with her hand still above the rug to the cheering crowd standing on the side of the street. As the carriage drove around a corner, he felt her use her nimble fingers on the placket on his pantaloons.
    Charlie found it hard to contain his pleasure. Was this really the same girl he had become engaged to? This sexy, sensual, arousing, vivacious creature, with glorious auburn tresses reaching to her waist and a glowing clear complexion? Her green eyes twinkled with mischief as she stared up at him. As she undid his buttons—where on earth had she learned how to do that so deftly, so swiftly, and with only one hand—she smirked and almost as an afterthought, allowed his throbbing prick to spring free of its confines. His head swam. What was that she had been saying about only ever been his? He couldn’t think straight.
    The Caroline he remembered had dull brown hair, a muddy complexion, and had—would—never ever show any signs of vivacity. He shuddered, as her small hands began to stroke and caress his ever-hardening cock, and wondered if he really had tried to learn just who she was? He thought not. And then stopped thinking and just felt.
    ***
    As she had followed her good friend, and often co-conspirator, down the aisle, Lady Caroline Sessions had taken a long hard look at the tall, slim—but in no way effeminate—blond man standing next to the bridegroom. Her fiancé. He seemed much, much more interesting than she remembered, for in truth she hardly knew him. As far as he was concerned, a few country dances at various balls, an uncomfortable and mercifully short drive in the park, was sufficient before a formal request to be his wife. Caroline, somewhat in awe, stiff and shy, and very naive accepted it at her parents’ command. They were delighted, telling her she had behaved as any dutiful daughter should, and she and Charlie would make an admirable couple.
    It was the realization that she was merely his way of