Falling for the Groomsman by Diane Alberts

blending the pain with the pleasure, and she cried out into his mouth. His fingers found her hair, entwined in her locks, and pulled.
    She dug her teeth into his lip, deepening the kiss even more. This is what she’d been missing for all these years. What she’d failed to find with other men—no matter how hard she tried. He moaned and moved so he wasn’t supporting her weight anymore. The new position made it so he rubbed against her clit with each thrust. She almost begged him to stop, it felt that good, but he kissed her before a word could escape.
    He wouldn’t have stopped, anyway. He was obviously determined to kill her with pleasure, and damn if she didn’t want him to.
    His mouth worked over hers, and the tension built higher and higher as he trailed his fingers over her skin. Everywhere. When he closed his hands over her breasts again, she arched her back, ignoring the sting of the bark on her shoulder blades. He hissed when she tightened her hold on him and bit down on his shoulder, thrusting harder. Faster.
    The increased momentum sent her spiraling over the edge, and she miraculously came again. This time, he joined her. He cried out her name and stiffened, his entire body going rock-hard. Then he sort of collapsed against her, burying his face in her neck. For a while they remained that way, their harsh breathing filling the silence of the forest surrounding them.
    He was the first one to move. He stepped out of her embrace and lowered her to the ground. He nibbled at her neck. “I thought you didn’t scream anymore, Red.”
    She shivered. “I don’t.”
    He smirked and stepped back. This is what they’d needed. Sex, sex, and more sex. Maybe, if she had any luck left, when this week was over she’d be free of this crazy-strong attraction. This was the way to get over him.
    If she said it enough times, she might even believe it.
    He examined her face, maybe looking for signs of her nonexistent regret or something, then bent down to gather her clothes. He handed the pile to her and went about collecting his own clothing. Maybe he didn’t need to do that yet. Maybe they could have another go. Work him out of her system a little quicker.
    She turned her back on him, knowing it was the only way she’d ever move. If she watched him walk around fabulously naked, they might never get out of these woods. His muscles begged to be touched, and boy did she want to do exactly that.
    Have sex in public? Check.
    Get over Tyler? Um…pending.
    He cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we need to head home or set up camp. You decide.”
    Camp in the woods? Ha. She grinned. “Home it is, then.”
    She heard the sound of his zipper and he shuffled behind her. “No more arguing with me?” he asked, his voice light with laughter.
    Laughter—not guilt. Thank freaking God. Some small part of her had been expecting him to freak out or something. To run away, just like he had in Mexico. Or even worse? To apologize again. It was nice to find out that her fear had been for nothing. He hadn’t run or apologized. He didn’t look as if he regretted touching her.
    And she didn’t regret it, either.
    She grinned. “Nah. I’m all argued out.”
    When he hissed, she whirled and looked at him. He’d gone completely white, and yet somehow looked green at the same time. “ Fuck .”
    “What?” she asked suspiciously. “What’s wrong?”
    He swallowed hard, his eyes slamming into hers. “I’m so fucking sorry. Come over here and sit down.”
    Déjà vu. He’d gone and apologized again. Un-freaking-believable.
    “No. No, no, no.” She shook her head, her stomach hollowing out with dread. What the heck did he have to apologize for now? She wasn’t a virgin, and she’d obviously been a willing participant. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she glowered at him. “You are not doing to me this again.”

Chapter Ten
    Tyler blinked at her, trying to make sense of her anger. “Not doing what,