I wanted Sunny. Badly. Unequivocally. Devastatingly.

This man was going to destroy me.

Thirty Sunny

Aamar was calming Sam down from his “oh, shit, I’m about to get married” panic surge. The guy had known this was coming, right? He’d planned this and had paid for it. I didn’t understand why some people got cold feet or panicked about exchanging vows in front of others. He obviously adored his bride; he had no regrets. But I was one to talk. Me and commitment seemed to be polar opposites.

Sam chuckled and exhaled as if things were suddenly all right. Maybe they were. Maybe this wasn’t about huge life changes or eternal commitments, but the emotion. His eyes were glistening, and Sam would most likely cry when he saw April walking down the aisle, which was going to make her cry, which was going to make everyone in the audience cry.

Aamar patted Sam on the back and laughed with him, looking up at me and then past me. His mouth almost dropped. He cocked his chin and I turned to see what all the fuss was about. Because Aamar wasn’t the only one gawking at the woman at the entrance. One would think the bride had made an early appearance. This wasn’t the woman of the hour dressed in a white gown.

No.

This woman was far more captivating, and I wasn’t the only one thinking that. Not when so many seemed stuck on her, whispering, “Who is that?”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“She’s sexy,” a man nearby uttered, and I rolled my eyes. But there was no lie there.

“Breathtaking dress.”

“Stunning hair.”

“Purple hair? How dramatic.”

“It works for her.”

“Her skin.”

Her presence was a force to be reckoned with and had stunned me into place.

I’d always noticed Bane when she walked into a room. There was a soft yet immediate knowing. I think everyone noticed her, really. She lit up the place with either her bubbly aura or her work ethic or her skill. Here, in this surreal moment where time had stopped, she was lighting this place on fire with her looks, an all-commanding presence, so powerful that it stole the breath right out of my lungs.

Bane was a fucking goddess.

I almost expected to see her in sweatpants or, at the most, unassuming monotone slacks. I always noticed what she wore. Solid colors, nothing too eye-catching, comfortable clothes. Nothing could have prepared me for Bane in a sultry strapless white lace dress. It had a subtle design of yellow and green, and ended at the knees. A vibrant purple belt tied into a little bow made her stand out even more. It matched the purple flower in her hair, which complemented her hair. Purple and black waves cascaded down over one shoulder.

She seemed uncomfortable with the attention, wringing her hands in her lap as she approached, her gaze darting left and right. Once our eyes met, her body relaxed. Her hands fell to her sides, and she offered a soft smile. Just for me. She made me feel as if I were the only other person in existence and everyone around us were ghosts fading away.

My heart was hitting my ribs. I’d never felt this before, this rush in my blood and excitement in my chest. I could see why people got off on adrenaline and craved more. I didn’t want this thrilling sensation to end. Probably not great for my blood pressure, but who cared?

“Wow, Bane…” I said on an exhale.

She stopped in front of me, her eyelids speckled with glitter and her lips—god damn those lips—a vibrant pinkish purple matching her belt and the flower in her hair. She scowled and I put my hands up in silent apology, whispering, “Babe. I meant babe.”

She rolled her big brown eyes, her lashes twice as long, twice as thick, twice as sexy beneath shimmering eyelids. Bane was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’d ever had the honor of breathing the same air as. Her look was everything: complementary and beauty and art.

Maybe I was staring. Maybe a few extra seconds or a few extra minutes had passed without a word. I had no idea. She warped time. I was completely enraptured by her. Nothing else existed.

Bane swallowed, her gaze breaking as she adjusted a segment of hair, and I wondered if it was as soft as the skin it touched.

I brushed the hair aside, my fingers gliding over her collarbone. Her breath hitched and I said, “You look amazing.”

She scrunched her nose as if to ask, “Really?”

I clucked my tongue and ran a hand down my face. “You look fine as hell, and you know it.”

“It’s what happens when I get out of sweatpants. Which is why I don’t do it often. I could bring down entire nations. It’s obviously enough to distract you.”

“I can’t argue with any of that.”

She tugged on my tie and adjusted the knot with the slightest pressure, but it might as well have been a punch to the gut. A light floral scent crept up from her hair, and I just wanted to lower my face to her neck and see if her skin smelled as good.

“I’d say you look pretty good yourself, except I’m the one to thank for that.”

“Is that so?” I asked, my voice rumbling out of my throat. Could she even see what she was doing to me? Part of me hoped not, because how embarrassing to give her an upper hand and fodder for future teasing. But part of me wanted her to know, to explore what her reaction would be, what her next move would be. If we’d tiptoe around this with jokes and banter, or if we’d near a continuously blurring edge until there was no coming back. I needed to know.

“The tie is everything. Without it, you might as well be in your touristy shorts.”

“We both know what happened to my last pair of touristy shorts.”

Her cheeks flushed.

I cracked a smile. “Thanks for completing my look.”

Her hand slid down to the end of the tie. The warmth of her touch seared through my shirt, to my abs. I had to focus, to remind myself that we were in public, in the middle of a crowd.

Not alone where I could place one hand on her waist, drawing her near, the other at the base of her neck, stroking her throat with my thumb as I kissed her. Where I could press her body against mine, eradicating this annoying space between us so that she was clutching the sides of my shirt, tugging it out of these slacks, letting bursts of chilled air hit my skin to cool me off but in no way actually cool enough. Probably nothing would cool me off at that point unless someone shoved me into a freezer.

We weren’t alone, so I couldn’t skim my hand across the exposed part of her chest and down her arm, to her hands, which would be unbuttoning my shirt. But first, the tie. Her fingers slipping into the knot and dragging it off me, her eyes locked on mine so that I could see the need in them the way she could see the need in mine.

Off with the tie and the shirt before I hoisted her onto my hips, my hands underneath her dress to hold her in place, feeling the roundness of that backside that I’d admired way too much this week. She’d gasp against my lips and…

Bane snapped her fingers, and I came back to reality with a jolt. Shit.

“Where did you go?” she asked, then gave that smart-ass smile of knowing. “Good thing I don’t dress like this all the time. You’d never get anything done.”

I tilted my head. “No, I’d definitely get something done.”

She shook her head, her skin still flushed. “Can I ask you something, and you be honest?”

“Of course.”

“Am I not supposed to wear white? Is that why everyone is looking at me?”

I glanced around and promised, “You are wearing the perfect dress. People are looking at you because they weren’t expecting a fucking goddess to walk among them. They can’t help but stare. And I stand by them.”

She bit down on a smile. “You’re so corny.”