Even Groomsmen Get the Blues
Ben Grimm has never really been fond of weddings, this one is even worse because it
was supposed to be a double wedding and he was supposed to be the other groom. It had
been months since his cheating ex dumped him but a chance encounter during the
reception has Ben ready to leave his ex in the past and perhaps start a new future
EVEN GROOMSMEN GET THE BLUES is another example of the Flash Fiction weekends that
takes place on Changeling Press’ email loop. Once we read J.S’ contribution we
had to read more and thank goodness he listened. There are very few guys that I know
of that write romance really well and J.S. is one of them. I also think that
there is more to Melanie and Ben’s story. I would love to read a followup and I know
other readers will feel the same.
This was the first book I have read from J.S. Wayne and cannot wait to read his next
release. Hopefully sooner then later.
Being single and lonely sucked even worse when he had to dress up in a monkey suit and dance around acting all happy for his best friend, Ben Grimm reflected. He loved Mike like a brother, but right now he wanted nothing more than to “adjust” Mike’s teal bow tie until he choked the idiotic, I’m-so-in-love grin off the groom’s face.
“Jack and Coke,” he yelled to the bartender over the thudding beat of the music. The bartender nodded and bustled off to take the order of a rowdy crew at the other end. Ben sighed, running a hand through his ash blond hair, and peeked at the clock surreptitiously, wondering how much longer good manners demanded he stay. Being a single guy at a wedding sucked syphilitic goat peckers, Ben ruminated. The few decent-looking women on display were either taken, too young, or eyeballing another potential conquest, which left him out in the cold.
He didn’t begrudge Mike and Lacey their happiness, and he certainly didn’t want to be a cloud on their day. If Veronica hadn’t done what she had, this would have been a double wedding.
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride, he thought sardonically, checking the clock again. His feet ached from standing for most of the day, his lower back was starting to spasm from an overly enthusiastic turn on the dance floor with a cute nine-year-old girl who had a charming lisp and who’d developed the kind of prepubescent crush he just didn’t have the heart to turn down, and he felt the beginnings of a low-grade migraine settling in at the back of his head. He’d have one drink, make his excuses, and get the hell away from all this lovey-dovey bullshit.
“Got a date?” a husky feminine voice murmured in his ear, downy soft lips brushing his sensitive lobe.
He whipped his head to the right ruthlessly enough to wrench his neck and provoke a strangled curse. When he saw the speaker, whiplash tumbled to the bottom of his priorities list. She can’t be… His jaw dropped, and a gibbering voice in his head screamed, Say something, stupid!
“Were you talking to me?” Ben’s mouth felt even drier.
The redhead laughed, exposing the creamy sweep of her throat and rolling her shoulders so the tips of her breasts pressed against the teal satin of her gown. “I thought if I didn’t come talk to you, you were either going to slip out the door or jump out the window.” Her large eyes, the exact shade of her dress, played over him appraisingly. “I’m Melanie.”
He stuck his hand out awkwardly. “Ben.”
She took the offered hand. His cock pressed uncomfortably against his zipper, responding to her heat. Six months of enforced monkitude had done nothing to make his errant manhood behave itself, and Melanie was sexy enough to push every hot button he had just by engaging in basic social contact. For a moment he entertained a fantasy of her spread-eagled on a bed while he took her, and he locked the erotic thought down fast. If he’d been a little quicker, he might have avoided the painful erection the woman before him had triggered.
Melanie pulled away, sliding her gaze south of his cummerbund as if mentally subtracting his tuxedo from the equation.
“You planning to drill through the wall? Or can I suggest a better use for that?”
Ben flushed. “I’m not sure what you mean…”
Melanie cut him off with the faintest hint of an eye roll. “Sure you’re not. Look, I’m lonely, horny, and need to fuck. You’re obviously up to the job — unless you’re here with someone?”
He growled a little. “Unless you count the groom, no.”
She nodded. “I’m with Lacey’s party.” She paused for a moment, looking up at him with great significance. “I’ve been watching you.”
Ben’s eyebrow lifted skyward. “Oh?”
“Lacey told me what Veronica did to you. We work together,” she added. “I’ve always thought Veronica was a stuck-up little c –”
“Young lady?” Ben asked, keeping his tone just on the socially acceptable side of polite as he parried the epithet he knew trembled on Melanie’s luscious lips. He didn’t want to talk about Veronica. He didn’t want to think about Veronica, even though he privately agreed with Melanie’s stance on his ex-fiancee at this point. At the moment he only wanted to take Melanie anywhere he could hike up the hem of her expensive dress and ball her into Nirvana without the immediate universe seeing him.
Melanie was hot enough to melt steel, but that clearly didn’t make her dense. Quickly, she changed the subject. “Do you want to… go somewhere else?”
Ben didn’t need to be asked twice. “Where did you have in mind?”
Melanie grinned and seized his hand. She started towing him across the floor, adding a little extra flounce to her backside as she walked for Ben’s benefit. “How would you like to do something really naughty?