"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the aging minister said with glee. "You may kiss the bride." The nervous groom leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the lips of his bride and the crowd in the church started to clap. As the bride and groom walked back down the aisle, Melissa tried to blink away the tear welling in her right eye while keeping a forced smile on her face. She couldn't believe that her cousin Claudia had gotten married before she did. She was two years her junior, and when Melissa and Claudia had dreamed up their perfect weddings during their many sleepovers as kids, Melissa always got married first.

"I can't believe she got married before me," Melissa muttered under her breath, catching her mother's disapproving eye from beside her. Not to mention the fact that her once-close cousin didn't bother to ask her to be a bridesmaid.

Her city editor, Spencer, smiled and clutched her elbow as they filed out the church with the wedding guests. Being such a small town, Spencer had been invited due to a family connection to the groom's parents.

When the late afternoon sunlight hit their faces, Melissa pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and glanced back at Spencer. "I can't thank you enough for coming with me today," she said, allowing him to give her a big bear hug.

"Well, going to a wedding is what I like to do on my Saturdays," he replied sarcastically when she pulled away from him. Affectionately, he dusted her nose with a finger.

"At least it's free food."

"True," he agreed.

"And you always said a reporter shouldn't turn down a free meal."

"Damn straight. Don't get paid enough." It was something both of them understood all too well. Money didn't come from working for a small town newspaper.

"Sweetie, is this your fiancé?" Melissa's great-aunt Gertrude came up behind them and kissed Spencer's cheek, leaving an imprint of her out-of-date red lipstick.

"This is Spencer, Aunt Gertrude," Melissa answered with a smile. "You also know I'm not engaged."

Thanks for reminding me that I'm still an old maid and the man I've been crushing on for the last two years will likely never commit to anything more than a dog. I'm not sure he'd even commit to that. After Rufus died last year, he hasn't bothered to get another.

"Well, I like this fellow," she said, giving her niece a hug as Spencer wiped the lipstick mark off his cheek. "I've been praying you two will get together, and when I saw him here today, I thought maybe God was listening."

You're not the only one who's prayed for us to be together.

The idea of her and Spencer having a relationship sent shivers through Melissa's spine, but she shrugged it off and just smiled at her aunt when she said, "Don't fret dear, maybe you'll catch the bouquet." Her comment about Spencer and Melissa getting together struck Melissa as odd since Gertrude had never met Spencer. Her stroke had confused her a bit. Gertrude patted Melissa's shoulder and walked toward her daughter's car to go to the reception.

"Shall we?" Spencer motioned toward his own vehicle trying to help Melissa recover from her obvious embarrassment. She felt the redness in her cheeks began to disappear when the air-conditioning hit her face and she leaned back as Spencer drove them toward Chilhowee Cove's elegant country club. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just a bit depressing seeing a younger cousin getting married before I do."

"Don't worry, it'll happen," Spencer soothed her, patting her hand, which was resting on her left knee. "By the way, why don't you have a date?"

"I don't know." Melissa shrugged. "I guess I'm too old."

"Uh, no, that's not it. You know, you really should go out and get yourself a boyfriend."

Spencer's suggestions sent a wave of butterflies through Melissa's stomach. She didn't want a boyfriend--at least not any old boyfriend. She wanted Spencer, and she didn't care how she had him.

"I'm serious. A pretty, young, sweet thing like yourself shouldn't be alone."

Geez, how can he think of me as sweet and not want anything more than friendship from me?

"Thanks. But in the meantime, you're stuck with me."

And if you'd like to take a detour by my apartment, I'll show you a good way to adhere your body to mine. She shook her head and resisted a shiver as she stared out the window.

She couldn't look at Spencer. It only reminded her of the numerous fantasies that filled her head whenever she sat still.

"Well, there's nobody else I would rather spend a Saturday with."

She didn't answer. She couldn't. He didn't really mean it anyway. It was one of the many things he said that never amounted to much of anything in reality.

Melissa had never fantasized or completely lost herself in a guy like she did with Spencer. She'd never wanted to caress a man and taste him like this. Oh God, just the thought of him kissing her sent her into a wave of ecstasy.

Her thoughts concluded as Spencer pulled into a parking space and shut off the ignition.

"I really appreciate you giving me a ride today." She turned and gave him a peck on the cheek before darting out of the car.

"Kissed by two Conner women in the same day," he remarked once he'd followed her out of the car. "This must be my lucky day." She narrowed her eyes, pretending to be upset, but her smile gave her away.

They entered the reception room, illuminated by candlelight with soft music playing over the speakers. Guests stood in groups, chatting and smiling. Melissa recognized about half the people in the room. A born observer, she couldn't help looking at everyone and searching for answers to unasked questions.

"See anything interesting?" Spencer whispered in her ear. His warm breath made her jump.

She didn't answer and continued to gaze around the room. Spencer made her blood pump hard and fast whenever he was near. The thought of being intimate with him seemed impossible.

Her skin tingled as Spencer put a gentle arm around her shoulders. A sultry Saturday afternoon in May, Melissa wore a light blue sundress she'd picked to match her eyes and the silky fabric accenting her figure made her fair skin appear delicate. She knew she appeared like a porcelain doll that a guy with sweaty hands couldn't help but touch. At least that's what she hoped would happen when Spencer saw her in it.

Anticipating his arrival at her apartment a couple hours earlier, she'd silently prayed that he'd take one look at her, pull her into her bedroom and rip the silk into shreds before taking total control of her body. Then, she wouldn't have to watch a person younger than her getting married. Instead, he'd honked his horn from the parking lot to announce his arrival.

Melissa had chosen the dress months earlier knowing it made her look sexy, especially with the thin spaghetti straps that went across her slender shoulders. The full skirt came to just above her knees, her toned legs topped off with a pair of high-heeled sandals. She'd managed to find nail polish that matched the color of her dress to complete her outfit.

Prepared for a relative she hadn't seen in years to come up to her and ask her why she hadn't married yet, she held her head high and inhaled deeply for the onslaught. Spencer and Melissa slowly made their way through the crowd of family making small talk awaiting the bride and groom.

Finally, Claudia and her new husband arrived and the crowd clapped, the festivities kicking off officially. Dinner and dancing followed, and the party got into full gear.

"Wanna dance?" she asked tentatively as she leaned in to him. A slow country song about love boomed through the speakers. He met her eyes and smiled. "Sure." God, even his eyes were sexy.

Spencer jumped out of his seat, helped Melissa to her feet, and led her to the dance floor. He pulled her toward him easily and as her breasts pressed into his hard chest, her heart began to pound. I hope he can't feel my heart beating so fast.

Her arms laced around his neck and her stomach tingled when his encircled her waist. They swayed a bit, and Melissa became aware of the growing hardness in his crotch pressing into her own body. Was she finally getting to him?

Craning her neck upwards, she looked into his face to see his eyes closed. So she laid her head against his shoulder, her mouth resting on the side of his neck. Breathing in his scent, every nerve in her body begged her to kiss him. Her lips remained glued to his skin. She tried to bite her tongue to keep it from darting through and tasting him. God, if he tasted as good as he smelled...

Melissa tried to put away the joy in her heart of being so close to Spencer. She'd been fighting her feelings for him for the past two years since they started working together. After the first six months, she'd dismissed as him as being a mentor for her, a model for the reporter she wanted to be. He was her supervisor--the city editor--and they worked very well together. In the revolving door of employees that came through the newsroom, Spencer and Melissa had been a staple. But her drive to succeed combined with the need to impress Spencer--to prove she was worth her salt as a reporter. In his eyes at least.

She'd been at the paper a week when she realized how often she stared at his ass. Always rounded yet firm beneath a pair of slacks, it had taken a lot of willpower to avoid pinching it. The feelings had hit her like a ton of bricks before she'd realized it.

His deep voice had resonated through the newsroom when he'd announced some changes in the company's health insurance. Laced with sarcasm, he told everyone how wonderful and reasonable the insurance was even with the substantial deduction from the check each week. Melissa had tried to ignore the butterflies that were going through her stomach each time she saw him and the way her heart warmed each time her eyes locked with his. She told herself it was crazy and had vowed that their fate was to be friends.

It wasn't that simple. In his arms, she knew she'd never be able to be just his friend.

As she sashayed along the floor in his arms, Melissa told herself it was more important to have Spencer as a friend instead of a lover. This dance would have to be enough, although she prayed with all her heart that the song would not end and Trisha Yearwood would magically find new words to continue the music into eternity. When the music ended, Melissa reluctantly dropped her arms as the DJ came over the speaker.

"We need all the single ladies to the center of the dance floor," he boomed with enthusiasm. "Come on. All the single ladies." Quickly, females ranging from age four to seventy-five gathered in a mass with Melissa at the center, tension mounting as the women prepared to fight for the prize--the bouquet. Melissa was one of the cats ready to claw one another for the bunch of flowers tied together by a ribbon, and she realized how silly the tradition was.

Beaming with radiance, Claudia sauntered in front of the crowd of females--lionesses hungry for fresh kill--turned her back to them and tossed the bouquet over her shoulder. Melissa reached her arms above her head despite the fact that the bouquet was thrown a mere foot short and snatched by their fifteen-year-old cousin.

Why don't they make it, all the single women of marriageable age?

She couldn't help being disappointed as she walked back toward the table where Spencer sat with Aunt Gertrude.

"I was rooting for you, sweetie," Aunt Gertrude said when Melissa reached the table.

Spencer simply stood up and kissed Melissa on the forehead, offering her his seat and preparing to go to the dance floor for the garter throwing. With reluctance, he followed the men who were glumly gathering in the center. She could not help laughing at the contrast of the females fighting for the bouquet and the males' lack of enthusiasm to catch the garter. As the lacy, white piece of fabric trimmed with blue soared through the air, there was no pushing or fighting as the men watched with worried eyes, most of them relieved when in fell on Spencer's shoulders.

"I guess you're next," Melissa said when he returned to the table with the white garter.

"It's a silly superstition." Spencer shrugged and shoved the garter into his pants' pocket. Luckily, Aunt Gertrude had gone to get some punch and left them alone for a moment. "Do you want to go?"

"Why?" Though she wanted to say, yes, let's go, she didn't want him to think she was so uncomfortable.

"Well, it's a beautiful night and I thought you may want to enjoy a bottle of champagne down by the lake near the golf course."

Melissa nodded in response and followed along as Spencer picked up a bottle of champagne from the bar. Claudia's parents had bought way too much liquor. They probably wouldn't notice one bottle missing. He also gathered two plastic champagne flutes.

Melissa silently followed Spencer, the heels of her shoes spiking into the grass as she walked down the hill. Finally, Spencer stopped at a point just a few yards away from the shore of the lake. If they looked up, they could only see the roof of the country club and nobody could see them.

The sun had started to lower and a refreshing breeze tossed Melissa's hair. After sitting, Melissa pulled off her shoes and folded her legs behind her.

She stared out at the brown water of the lake, jumping as Spencer popped out the cork. Kneeling down, he handed the filled flute into her open palm. Clasping it properly, she took a sip.

The champagne bubbles quickly went to Melissa's head as she gulped down the first glass and poured another while Spencer quietly sipped his first. She knew champagne highs were tricky. She had already drunk two glasses of red wine with her dinner and a glass of punch, which her seventeen-year-old cousin had kindly spiked with vodka.

They drank in silence. No words were necessary. Time seemed to pass quickly and once Melissa had taken the last sip in her glass, the sun seemed to have disappeared halfway into the lake.

"Want more?" he asked, filling the silence.

She nodded, and he obliged by refilling the glass.

Her blood ran warm as she sipped her third glass. Lightheaded and giddy, she lay back on the soft cushion of grass, ignoring that she spilt the contents of her flute onto her arm. She stared at the darkness above her, lit up with stars and clear enough to show the full moon.

"I don't know that I would want my wedding night to fall on a full moon," Melissa commented blankly.

"I'm sure many people have had their wedding nights with a full moon," Spencer responded with a matter-of-fact tone.

"With the divorce rate so high these days, I'd be afraid to take any chances," Melissa argued.

Spencer glanced over his shoulder at Melissa's relaxed body. The moonlight and stars were bringing out the sheen of her strawberry-blonde hair cascading across her arms that supported her head. The hem of her dress had swept up to just above her knees, revealing slender white legs. Although he'd seen those legs many times in the last two years, the sight of them still brought quivers to his blood, especially when he considered them wrapped around his waist. The thought of having her as more than a friend wasn't new, but he cared too much for her to jeopardize the friendship that had grown so strong between them.

He denied himself the joy of being attracted to her. He'd shut it down, assuming that it was simply due to her being a young, sexy woman, fresh and beautiful. It was normal to be attracted to a beautiful woman, wasn't it? Any healthy male with a sex drive would be attracted to her. She was too special, and he couldn't live with himself if he hurt her. Different from any woman he'd ever been with, she wasn't the kind of woman a guy had a fling with. She was the kind who was meant to be married.

Spencer didn't know what to say. He knew he didn't have to waste small talk with Melissa. Comfortable enough with her, he allowed silence to blanket them.

Maybe the champagne will lower her inhibitions enough so she'll jump me right here. I'm not sure I should make the first move here.

The sounds of crickets squeaking in the distance and the ducks splashing in the water danced through his ears with the other peaceful sounds of the night. They became one with the natural landscape, if only for a few moments.

Melissa broke through the silence. "Spence, do you think there's something wrong with me?

"No." Shock riveted him at the thought that she'd ever consider such a thing. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, I'm twenty-seven years old, not married and have no prospect of getting married anytime soon," Melissa whined.

"What about Drew?"

"I'm sure as hell not going to marry him."

"I'm thirty-six and I'm not married," Spencer replied, soothing her. He laid back, his arm lightly touching the side of hers.

"But you're a man," Melissa pointed out.

"Yeah, so?"

"Men aren't ready to get married by the age of twenty-seven, but most women are," Melissa explained. "I'm going to be a single old lady with a bunch of cats. I can see it now. Crazy Ole Mizz Conner, who lives in the house all the kids are afraid to go to on Halloween because they think she's a witch."

"That's crazy," Spencer mused. "You're a beautiful, vibrant woman who will make a man a fine wife one day." He meant every word of it. He picked up her hand and placed a soft kiss to it, hoping to soothe her self-image. The scent of vanilla filled his nostrils, and that constriction in his pants returned. Why did she seem to have such control over his cock today? Even though he'd spent time with Melissa outside the office before, she'd never turned him on this much. Maybe the combination of the wedding and romantic aura had created something in the air that made coupling so appealing.

When he lowered their arms back to the ground, he kept his fingers lightly clasped around hers. Her hand tingled around the area where his lips had been. God, how she'd fantasized for what seemed like a lifetime about those lips on hers and on other parts of her body. Despite the sweet, chaste intention, a warm rush of happiness always rose through her when he gave her a friendship kiss.

From the start, she knew this little crush was ridiculous and made absolutely no sense. She tried to use that as reasoning to get over it, but it did not help. Suddenly, she found herself overachieving to get his attention and approval. He rarely handed out compliments to anyone on the staff, as was the trademark of most editors at a daily newspaper. But he did occasionally pass them out to Melissa, telling her she had a good lead or complimenting her on how well she did under intense pressure. When those words went into her ears, her blood warmed and her heart sparked, adding fuel to the fire of want she had for him.

She had long since mastered the art of acting nonchalant until her odd mannerisms and actions simply were normal for her. She knew he wasn't perfect. He had way of being blunt that often came off as rude, but Melissa simply smiled when that happened. The things that seemed to annoy others intrigued her. She even enjoyed having him tease her, which was something she hated from other people.

"How do you know when you've found true love?" Melissa broke the quiet.

"I don't know. The whole 'true love' thing is overrated," Spencer muttered. "It's something dreamed up in movies and romance novels, giving us a false hope to believe in. It doesn't exist." Spencer's pessimistic attitude did not push Melissa away as it did most people. She smiled, knowing he didn't believe it. "You don't believe me do you?"

"No more than I believe you're a virgin."

"But that's a different thing entirely."

"What?"

"Love and sex. They don't always go together."

It seemed like a change of topic, but Melissa sure as hell wasn't going to shy away from a sex discussion with Spencer.

Melissa sat upright and faced him. "In my experience, they go very well together."

"In theory, yes." He shrugged. "But let's face it, sometimes you just need a good fuck and you don't care where it comes from."

"I wouldn't know," Melissa admitted quietly.

"Are you saying that you've been in love with every guy you've screwed?"

"I've never 'screwed' anyone. I prefer to call it 'making love.'"

"Okay, you've been in love with everyone you've had sex with."

"Well, yeah." She and Drew had never had sex, and she hadn't really wanted to. Not the way she wanted Spencer.

"Sweetie, you've been missing out."

"Tell me about it," she muttered. "It's been so long, I think they've changed it."

"How long has it been?" Melissa noticed Spencer's eyebrows arching in inquisition.

"Two years."

"Two years," he gasped. "Dear Lord, you must have cobwebs growing down there."

Melissa playfully punched his biceps. He gave her a smile, unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt and began folding them up, revealing a tan she'd never be so lucky to get herself.

"Well, I will say this." She sighed. What she had to say meant taking a big chance. "If I don't have sex soon, I think I'll go insane."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" His words were warm and thick.

"Is that a proposition, Mr. Reed?" she ventured.

He shrugged. "Are you sure you haven't had too much to drink?"

"No. But if ever you wanted to take advantage of your protégé, now's the chance." As she heard the words, she couldn't believe they came out of her mouth. What on earth was she doing? Maybe the alcohol was talking. Or maybe it had lowered her inhibitions enough to finally admit what she wanted.

Slowly, she stood up. A bit shaky, his strong arm gave her some support, and she squinted her eyes as the moonlight gleamed against the frames of his glasses. Spencer was the only man she had ever met that looked sexy with glasses. It seemed like such a natural accessory instead of a cumbersome sight. She groaned inwardly, once again attempting to drive her feelings for him out of her heart. It would only lead to heartache.

He pulled her to him again, this time planting his lips on hers. Gently, he probed her mouth, finding his way inside as his hands firmly clasped the back of her neck. She dug her fingernails into his shirt, feeling the muscles of his back flex beneath her fingertips. Once again, his shaft hardened against her, and her sex burned hot in anticipation for him.

Her knees gave out and she started to melt into the ground, bringing Spencer down with her. Once she lay comfortably on her back, she kept him on her by grabbing hold of his tie with one hand and gripping the waistband of his slacks with the other. As she continued to explore his mouth with her tongue, relishing the desire she'd denied herself for way too long, she wrapped a bare leg around his, pinning him down.

Soon, his hand began exploring her body. He started with the thigh enveloped around him and moved upward. The hem of her dress moved with him, and the breeze brought some relief to the skin he seared with his touch.

His mouth left hers for a moment and he stared her straight in the eyes as he found the lace of her panties. With his finger wrapped around the lace, he spoke huskily, "I didn't know you wore thongs."

"You never asked," she replied.

He smiled and continued to explore, moving forward inside her panties toward her pussy. "And you never mentioned that you shaved."

Her lips moved upwards into a small smile. "Again, you never asked."

"It never seemed appropriate." His hand moved slowly and he slipped a finger inside her. "Damn, you're wet."

"It's for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Did I ever tell you that I have a gold medal in clit licking?" His smile turned mischievous, and another finger went in. Her legs relaxed and opened.

"No. I don't recall seeing that award next to your computer."

"It's not one I like to display in the office."

She released a soft laugh.

Finding his balance, he moved back and gently spread her legs as far as they would go as he pushed the hem of her dress up past her belly button. He took off his glasses and laid them on the grass.

His mouth went to her body, starting at her belly button, working his way down. When he reached her panties, he pulled them off with a sweep and deposited them on the grass.

Before she knew it, he'd gripped her inner thighs and positioned his mouth over her crotch.

He started slowly, licking and tasting as though he slowly enjoyed a glass of fine brandy. He placed a thumb every once in awhile at just the perfect spot as though he knew exactly where she needed to be touched. She arched her hips up at him and felt every muscle in the lower half of her body tighten as the blood pumped harder and harder.

She didn't know exactly what she wanted. All she knew was that she needed more and it had to come from him. He obliged, continuing to delve his tongue deep inside her.

Gripping his hair, she attempted to gain some sort of control from the cliff she was about to topple over. At the same time, she urged him to continue. She needed it. More than she'd ever needed anything in her entire life.

It didn't take long for her to climax and when she finally released with a soft moan, she lowered her hips back to the grass.

Panting, she put her hands to her warmed cheeks. "I--I--I've never d--done that before," she stammered breathlessly.

He sat up and took a sip of champagne. "Damn, that was sweeter than the wedding cake."

A soft giggle floated from her mouth and her heart continued to pound. Before she could think, she sat up and pounced on him, knocking him back. She claimed his lips this time, her fingers gripping his sandy-colored hair. Releasing him, she lightly nibbled his bottom lip and made a trail of kisses down his neck. Stopping at the base, she began a gentle succession of nibbling and sucking just inside his collar while her hands fumbled at his waistband.

Light, nimble fingers opened his fly and she reached into his boxer shorts.

"I guess I should return the favor," she whispered into his ear, still not quite breathing steadily.

Despite the three guys she'd slept with before, she'd never found herself comfortable with oral sex. But a different animal seemed to be driving her, pushing her to try something new. She pulled his cock free and held it in her palm. Already hard, it pulsed as her fingers touched the skin.

Blowjobs had never been her specialty, but for some reason, she felt like giving it a try. Internal pressure beat against her chest with each heartbeat to perform beyond Spencer's expectations, and she couldn't resist taking him in.

She started at the tip and moved slowly, her tongue making smooth circles around the end of the shaft.

"Oh, my God," she heard him moan.

She took him further into her mouth. Her lips enveloped him and she went back and forth several times. His hands grabbed her hair and she felt his nails digging into her scalp.

Breathing through her nose, she made up the actions as she went along. Despite Spencer's claim that he'd earned a gold medal in the area of oral sex, Melissa never wanted to brag about her sexual prowess. That was if she had any worth bragging about.

"I'm coming," Spencer shouted. Melissa released her hold on him and he spilt his seed on the grass beside him.

Reaching for her glass of champagne, she found it toppled over. So she grabbed the bottle and took a giant swig. Alcohol certainly took the edge off the awkwardness of the moment.

"Well, when you walked into the newsroom a few years ago, I never anticipated that you would do that," he said with a laugh.

"I didn't know it was a job requirement." A soft giggle floated from her mouth, followed by a hiccup. Melissa immediately put a hand to her mouth, only to have Spencer grasp it.

"We're still friends, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she confirmed quietly, her heart nearly shattering that even after their intimate moments together, she'd gone back to friend status. She didn't look at him and kept her eyes on her hands inside his. They felt so comfortable there, despite the electricity of his touch.

"Hey." She looked up. He gave her a light, simple chaste kiss on the lips. "We should probably go." He put his glasses back on and stood up, pulling her up with him. After releasing her hands, he started up the hill. Melissa grabbed her panties and watched Spencer stop to zip up his fly.

Once they reached the car, Melissa deposited the panties into Spencer's lap.

"What's this for?"

"Something to remember me by."

He flashed her a grin, stuffed the small scrap of lace and silk into the front pocket of his shirt and turned on the ignition.

She had to go home. Back to reality.