«Mom's Wedding Day» by Alana Church

One year ago, Karen Underwood
succumbed to temptation. The result was a wild night of mind-blowing sex. The only problem was that it was with her son!


Now Karen's getting married, and her hunky son Sam is back.
He's made it clear he doesn't approve of her husband-to-be. When Sam returns,
the sparks of passion reignite. Will Karen be able to resist? Nothing is certain on Mom's Wedding Day!


~~~~~
PG Excerpt ~~~~~


She was a wonder and a glory,
and he felt his heart swell with love and pride.


The wedding gown was white
lace, and it both covered her and left no doubt about her body's charms. It clung to her like a second skin, drawing the eyes to her curves. Leaving her
shoulders and upper chest bare, it began at her breasts, lifting them up and
holding them in cups of shimmering cloth, as if to display them proudly. From
there, it encased her in a delicate froth, from her ribcage to her narrow waist
to the curve of her hips. At that point, it left her body and fell in sheer
folds to her ankles.


She was intent on the mirror,
perhaps scrutinizing her reflection for some flaw. He closed the door behind
him silently, grateful beyond words that Shelly had chosen not to come up with
him.


“You're still a beauty, you know,” he said, his low voice seeming like a thunderclap in the quiet room.


“Sam?” She looked at his
reflection in the mirror. “What are you doing here?”


He took a few steps into the room. “Your fiancé sent me to answer your question. He says he doesn't give a damn about where we do the pictures, as long as we get the wedding over quick
enough so he can get good and drunk.” He didn't feel bad at all about making
Jake look like a jerk.


He took another step into the
small room. She tensed at first, but then relaxed into his arms as he hugged
her.


This.
This is right.


He let his hands fall to Karen's sides. Slowly, without any fuss, he began to hike up the bottom of her
dress.


“Sam.” Her voice was a quiet
hiss. “What do you think you're doing?”


“Just checking you out,” he replied, his voice rough. “It's been a long time since I've seen your legs. And the last time was so dark…” he trailed off suggestively. He caught his breath
as her long, tanned legs came into view.


“Stop it. Stop it now.” But was there a tiny hint of excitement? The expectation, no, the hope, that he wouldn't obey her?


“What are you going to do?”
The hem of the dress was now at mid-thigh. “Scream? That would cause a lot of awkward questions, wouldn't it?” Now the rounded curves of her rear could be
seen, and he swallowed. He set the hem of the dress on her back, out of the
way, and put his hands about her slim waist. His thumbs kneaded the taut
muscles at the base of her spine, and he felt her give a tiny sigh, relaxing
imperceptibly. “No panties?” he asked, taking in the long, uninterrupted
expanse of skin. “Naughty naughty.”


“I didn't want to be showing
a panty line,” she said softly. Her head drooped low. “Oh, Sam, your
hands…they feel so good.”


In the quiet of the room, the
sound of his zipper being lowered was very loud.