Lisa Gillis

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Get Rocked

Rock Casualty by Lisa Gillis
One of Twelve Titles in the Get Rocked! Vegas Boxed Set!

EXCERPT

 I don’t get that lit and do things. That’s why last night is so unreal. All I did was drink.”

     My gaze snapped from a fixation on his mouth, to his eyes, and then away. Every pink and yellow shade on a palette streaked the sky. The sun was a great orange orb sinking fast. “Do you remember? Any of it? The chapel or ceremony?”

     “All I remember is luring you into the bedroom.”

     “Luring me? No, that doesn’t sound creepy at all…”

     He grinned at the mockery and defended, “Yeah. Well, I was pretty direct about it. Asked you if you wanted to move our party to the bedroom. You said sure.”

     Sure. I said sure. Of that, I had no doubt. Neurons fired lobe-to-lobe as I strained to recall the conversation or anything beyond. “Did we?” My eyes landed on the zipper of his jeans and then skittered away. “I mean I know we didn’t, but did we…” For the first time, I realized just because we hadn’t completely hooked up didn’t mean we hadn’t done other stuff. An imagination of my knees between his Nike-clad feet sent my stomach into one of those flip-flops that seemed to be happening a lot around him.

     His brows furrowed slightly. “I don’t think anything happened. But then again, who knows? If it weren’t for the rings, we wouldn’t even know—well you know—what we know.”

     “Maybe it’s good we don’t remember the wedding.” I was beginning to think replaying the marriage in my head would be more bittersweet than embarrassing.

     “Know what I wish I remembered?” His eyes darkened with an intensity I’d seen earlier at the restaurant. “I wish I remembered the part that goes, ‘You may kiss the bride’.”

     “You may kiss the bride.” My words were an instant and instinctive whisper in the spell of a moment.

     Our lips brushed, once, twice, before melding together. The kiss was wild and sweet as we tested, tasted, and finally consumed.

     My phone rattled again, and I removed my hand from where it curved his neck long enough to wrestle the device from my pocket and toss it aside.

     I knotted my empty fist in his shirt, and swallowed his hungry groan. Nothing existed in the world except his lips against mine. His tongue tangled with mine. The stubble on his face against my chin. Our shallow pants synchronized, becoming increasingly ragged until dizzy from the deprivation of breathing, we pulled apart.

     The distance between the mountain rise in the distance and the bottom of the sun had narrowed even more.

     “Damn, I’m sure I would’ve remembered that.” His breath caressed my face, and the hoarse and husky words caressed my ears.

     “Yeah,” I agreed. I was sure I’d never been that moved by a kiss.