Read Beautiful Boss (Beautiful Bastard #4.5)(6) online free by Christina Lauren
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Home > Beautiful Boss (Beautiful Bastard #4.5)(6)

Beautiful Boss (Beautiful Bastard #4.5)(6)
Author: Christina Lauren

“I don’t know about the entire thing,” Will teased, easily evading a slug to the arm. “I’m kidding.” With a finger under my chin, he tilted my face up to him. “Didn’t I tell you everything would be perfect?”

“You did,” I said, stretching to nip at his jaw. “Apparently big social gatherings where I am prominently featured stress me out a little. Who knew?”

He laughed.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“You’re my favorite.”

He returned the sentiment with a kiss to my lips, and one kiss turned into another until we heard the driver clear his throat from the front seat. With a self-conscious laugh, I put a little more space between us. I wasn’t going to get carried away in the back of a car on our way to the hotel; I had the entire night with him. I planned on savoring every moment.

“Did you notice how much champagne Jensen had?” I asked.

My oldest brother might have the air of the Responsible Sibling, but he did play in a band with Will, after all. I was pretty sure Jensen wasn’t quite as innocent as he always claimed to be.

“I saw him talking to that redhead who works in your lab,” Will said, nodding. “Think he might have a hard time finding his way home alone.” He leaned over to press a kiss to my cheek, my chin, before making his way to my jaw. “Maybe I won’t be the only one getting lucky tonight.”

I grimaced. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just make a reference to my brother getting laid on my wedding night.” Will laughed against my throat, his warm breath bringing goose bumps to the surface of my skin. “We both know my brother doesn’t have sex, because, gross,” I added, trying to swallow back my anxious chatter. “Why don’t you just start talking about how handsy my dad was with my mom tonight?”

Will pulled back, staring down at me in amusement. “How much champagne did you have tonight?” he asked, fingers curling around my hip. “You’re not asleep on the floor, so I’m guessing it wasn’t a lot.”

“Liv cut me off at half a glass. She said it was her gift to you and that you could thank her at Christmas.”

Will laughed and we both turned toward the window as the car slowed and then rolled to a gentle stop. He slid across the seat and then turned back to me with a grin.

“You ready?” he asked, and I wondered if two words had ever been packed with so much meaning.

Was I ready? Not in a million years. I was barely prepared to handle Will Sumner on an average day, never mind in a hotel room, in a tuxedo, on our wedding night, and with that look in his eye . . .

It was a look that suggested I was something to eat. It was a look that told me I didn’t stand a chance. The door opened and Will stepped out, quickly turning to offer me his hand. I followed, and was instantly greeted by the sights and sounds of Rowes Wharf and the city just beyond.

“So this is what you’ve been planning,” I said, looking from the boats rocking gently in the harbor to the beautifully illuminated building in front of us. “You kept this place a secret from me, you little sneak.”

He grinned. “You said to surprise you.”

“How in the world . . . ?” I started, but just shook my head, hit by a wave of nostalgia so big it took my words away. I’d been to the Boston Harbor Hotel as a child and always wanted to come back, but had no idea how he knew any of this. “Did my mom tell you about this place?”

“Well, she did help me organize things a little, but no, she didn’t tell me. You did,” he said, placing his hand on my lower back and leading us both to the lobby doors.

“I tell you approximately three hundred random things a day. I have no idea how you manage to retain even a fraction of them.”

Our bags had been delivered earlier in the day, so once we had our room keys, we headed straight for the elevators.

Pressing the call button, Will bent to place a lingering kiss against my cheek. “Your dad brought you here for afternoon tea when you were eight, and your mother made you wear a terrible dress and tights that kept—if I have my Hanna-isms correct—creeping into your fancy parts? I might be paraphrasing, of course.”

I laughed at the memory. “I hated that dress. It was Liv’s, and the zipper was all jagged and would snag in my hair.” He gave me a slow nod to tell me he remembered all of this . . . and my insides warmed. “There were rose petals on the tablecloths.”

“Pink,” he added, rubbing slow circles on my back with his palm.

I nodded, eyes locked on his before dropping to his gorgeous mouth. I wanted to kiss that mouth, taste it, stretch out across a giant bed while it tasted me. We’d made love just last night and yet it still felt like it’d been too long.

“I feel like I barely got to talk to you today,” I whispered. “How weird is that? It was our wedding, we were next to each other all night, and yet it feels like we spent most of the day talking to other people.”

“I felt the same way,” he said, and the low rumble of his voice vibrated down my spine. “Between the guests and the pictures, your family, my family, and the guys all stealing you for dances . . . I just stared at you all night.”

I pulled him down for another kiss and felt him hum against my mouth. “Would you be interested in some alone time now?” I asked. “I’d like to show you how much I like your surprise.”

“I’m a little torn between wanting to stare at you in this dress some more, and wanting to tear it off you.” The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside, shifting to the back to make room for a few others, who smiled at us and murmured their congratulations.

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