The Breakup by Erin McCarthy is available now!
Can two wrongs feel oh-so-right? This bride is about to find out—with the bad boy who makes an epic breakup worth her while.
Bella: I know I’m a princess. I’m used to getting what I want. But all I ever really wanted was a husband and a family. Unlike my sister, Sophie, I’ll never have a brilliant career to fall back on. So what’s a bride to do when she learns that Prince Charming is a cheating snake just a few days before her fairy-tale wedding? With my fiancé begging for another chance, the only way to save the wedding is to even things out with a little revenge sex—and local bartender Christian Jordan seems like the right man for the job.
Christian: If gorgeous Bella Bigelow thinks sleeping with me will somehow lead to happily ever after, I’m not going to turn her down. The guy she wants to marry is a jerk, and her sister is fooling around with my estranged twin brother, Cain. So what’s the problem—besides falling for a woman who doesn’t know what she wants out of life? All I want to do is whisk her away from that church, take her to a cabin in the woods, and act out all our naughtiest fantasies. And I may just get the chance. . . .
Don’t miss Sophie and Cain’s story in The Hookup!
Get your copy of THE BREAKUP now!
When Christian started to unlace the corset on the back of my dress, I held the bodice against my breasts so it didn’t fall right away, not out of modesty, but because I couldn’t stand the thought of crushing the dress. I wanted to both destroy the gown and savor it. Maybe that was my life in a nutshell.
“It’s undone. Now what?” Christian said. “I feel like I have to haul you up and out of it or something.”
“It needs to come off over my head, not down my hips. You need to lift it up and over.” I raised my arms straight up.
Christian pulled from the neckline up, but it got stuck around my chin. “Ah,” I said. “Something’s wrong.”
He tugged harder, making me rock on my heels.
“What’s wrong is that this thing is tighter than a straitjacket. What the fuck, how were you even breathing?” Christian sounded genuinely bewildered. “I have to go from the bottom I think.”
He shifted and I felt him gathering the skirt from the hem, his hands brushing over my ankles and calves. He made a sound like he was spitting. “Holy shit, I think I just inhaled a rhinestone.”
I started to laugh, the fabric still enveloping my face. “Swarovski crystals, not rhinestones.” My voice was muffled behind the bodice. “Help, it’s getting hot in here!” Plus I definitely had the giggles from the pure ridiculousness of the whole situation. It was like being slaphappy.
Christian lifted the entire skirt up, gathering it around my waist. Fresh air wafted over my legs and my bare butt. I momentarily worried because I was wearing a thong and that was a teeny bit awkward, but there were gobs of fabric between his face and my ass so I didn’t think he could see a damn thing. I certainly couldn’t. His hands went under the fabric then, without warning, and slid up over my hips.
My laughter choked off. He went up, up, over the sides of my breasts, his forearms holding up the skirt of my dress. I shivered, but then his touch went higher, brushing my cheeks and ears as he lifted the bodice up off my head. The skirt dragged over my face, but the constriction of the corset being gone was a sweet relief. Another second and I was completely free, the only thing obstructing my view and breathing my disheveled hair. I brushed it back. “Oh geez, thanks.”
When I finally shook my hair fully out of my way and blinked, I turned around and held my hands out to take the dress. I wanted to drape it over the chair to preserve it as much as possible. But I forgot how to speak when I saw the look on Christian’s face. He had the dress in his hands but his eyes were on me. His nostrils were flaring, his eyes sweeping over me. He was backing up, taking slow steps away from me.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Was he running away from me? He looked turned on, but where the hell was he going? This was where I was a sexual failure. I couldn’t get a read on him.
“I’m stepping back to get a better view. I want to fully appreciate the perfection that I’m seeing.”
My breath hitched. “Oh.” I tried to think of something to say. I was such a good flirt generally speaking and good at receiving compliments. But I had dated guys who were respectful, sweet, charming. Well, at least they had pretended to be. Christian was so raw. He didn’t hide his lust. He let me see the full force of his desire. The hot, pulsing blaze of passion. It left me speechless and wet. At least my body knew what to do even if my brain didn’t.
I decided to treat the moment like a photo shoot for social media. Hand on hip, body slightly turned, one knee bent. Christian growled. It was an actual growl. He looked like he wanted to eat me. My face flamed, but damn it, I felt sexy. Appreciated. “Should I turn around in a circle?” I asked, finding my flirt. I used my hand to rake through my hair and shake it out over my shoulders.
“Only if you want to.”
I was just wearing a basic white lace thong and a strapless bra. My overnight bag had the slutty lingerie I had bought for the wedding night to tease and entice. But even though this was more functional than seductive I felt sexy. Not beautiful. Sexy. That was a fun and refreshing feeling. So I pivoted on my heels, making sure I followed through with my head over the shoulder. I laughed a little, because I felt so free.
Christian came toward me. Stalking me, really. I’d never seen that kind of an expression on a man’s face. It was so dominant, so base, so feral. I should have been scared, but it was actually arousing. My nipples hardened under my bra, goosebumps ran over my mostly bare skin. I had thought he would be gentle, coaxing me to a new sexual understanding.
Instead he put a hand under my butt and hauled me against him. We collided with a hard smack, then suddenly I was up in the air, head and hair coming forward over his shoulder. I was too startled to do anything other than gasp. Everything I had was rubbing against all of his hardness as he walked across the room. My chest was pressed into his shoulder, my clit brushing over his belt buckle. I even liked his arm under my ass. Crazy, just absolutely bizarre that I would enjoy being manhandled. It made me blush, which made my whole body warm. Especially there. A hot ache had settled deep into my pussy and I didn’t even know what to think or to do with that. I couldn’t believe I was even thinking of my vagina as a pussy. I never felt wild enough or in tune with it enough to use that term.
Then I was falling backward before I could have any further thoughts. I let out a shriek as I sailed through the air, scared. But I landed almost immediately with a soft thump on a mattress. I was splayed on the bed in the corner. I took a deep breath, my heart racing as I stared up at him. Christian moved over on top of me, but kept his weight off me. His arms were propped on either side of my chest and he bent down and kissed me.
Maybe I had dreamed that I had been kissed before. Maybe I had thought that’s what I’d been doing, but compared to this I had been wasting my time. Christian kissed me like there was nothing else in the entire world but this moment, my lips, and our hot breathing. It could have felt orchestrated, choreographed, too smooth. The kiss of a man who kissed a lot of women. But it wasn’t that. It was wild, uncontrolled, aggressive.
Like he wanted me so much nothing could stop him.
About Erin McCarthy
USA Today and New York Times Bestselling author Erin McCarthy first published in 2002 and has since written over sixty novels and novellas in teen fiction, new adult romance, paranormal, and contemporary romance. Erin is a RITA finalist and an ALA Reluctant Young Reader award recipient, and is both traditionally and indie published.
When she’s not writing she can be found sipping martinis in high heels or eating ice cream in fleece pajamas depending on the day, and herding her animals, kids, and amazing renovation-addicted husband.