Chapter One
Julie Driscoll was, without a doubt, the most beautiful bride
Chris Dennison had ever seen. Her strapless ivory gown left
her arms bare, and, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine how
silky her skin would feel against his fingertips. Though her veil
obscured her face, he could vividly picture wide, long lashed
eyes the color of the Caribbean sea at sunrise; her small, slightly
upturned nose; and full pink lips. Her breasts swelled tastefully
against the bodice of her dress, though even that was enough to
make his mouth dry and his palms sweat. With the wide, poofy
skirt of her wedding gown nearly spanning the entire width of
the aisle of San Francisco's Grace Cathedral, she reminded him
of a luscious dollop of whipped cream, tempting him to lick her
up with one lusty sweep of his tongue.
His chest got tight as she approached, his stomach twisting
in knots as every step led her closer to the altar. She was really ...
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