by Piper Lawson
I hold up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I’ll leave it in your hands. If you want to see it through or not, you have my money and my confidence. I’m out for my honeymoon and until the tour.”
Annie’s drinking wine and laughing with Elle and Pen. Beck is trying to shoot a video of them.
I head toward Harry at the pop-up bar. “It means a lot to have you here.”
“I don’t do weddings. But the two of you make it look like something worth aspiring to.” A ghost flickers through Harry’s dark eyes, so fast most people wouldn’t notice.
“Harry, I know—”
“Don’t mention it. I have an entertainment empire to distract me. Being a billionaire playboy without a care in the world is a lot of work.” The English accent makes the words drier. He lifts a glass in a smirking toast, and I clink mine to his.
My friend’s attention drifts past me, lingers. “Ah. You’re in trouble.”
I turn to see Annie and Rae watching us, Annie’s smile waning and Rae not smiling at all.
“Or you are,” I joke.
“Impossible. I only piss off women I know.”
Shaking my head, I excuse myself and go back to my wife. “I need to borrow this one,” I tell Rae, who seems content to yield my bride to me.
“Where are we going?”
“Dancing,” I murmur.
“You don’t dance.”
“I do with you.”
I take her in my arms and tug her across the sand toward the water, stopping short of where the sea laps at the shoreline.
“Do you remember the first time we danced?” she murmurs as she steps closer, her dress brushing my suit.
I press a finger to the necklace she’s wearing, the one I busted my ass to fix, before sneaking a guilty look at her face. “You’d better remind me.”
“It was a wedding. Dad and Haley’s, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yes. After the reception,” she prods, drawing out each syllable as if it might jog my memory.
“I see.” I nod slowly, pretending to catch on. My hands lift to her face, stroking her skin lightly. “The band was playing jazz. I took off to the gazebo, buzzed on champagne I didn’t like, and there you were. Barefoot and looking like a fallen angel. One I’d promised I wouldn’t touch.”
Annie’s eyes brim with emotion. “I wished you’d kissed me that night. It would’ve lasted me the entire summer away from you.”
“If I’d kissed you that night, I wouldn’t have left for the summer.”
Her trembling breath is enough for me to live off. But in case it’s not, I brush my lips over hers. She’s sweet and edgy, familiar and new, and I thread my hands into her hair to tug her even closer.
We’re surrounded by friends and family, dancing on the edge of the earth, and my heart is pounding. Not for them, not for where we are. For the woman in my arms. The one who completes me.
“You’re here now,” she whispers against my lips.
“We both are. No more excuses, no more takebacks.” I can’t swallow my grin as I thread her fingers through mine so our rings lie against one another. “It’s you and me, Six. Then. Now. Always.”
Her lips curve, and I kiss her again.
Epilogue
One week later
“You ready for this?” I ask Annie.
She bends toward the sand next to me, her flowing skirt getting tugged by the breeze as she inspects the cage. “Yes.”
The hotel attendants surround us on this important day.
Important, it seems, to my wife, and I guess to the bird.
Annie opens the door, tugs it wide.
Hugo peeps from his cage a couple of times before hopping toward the outside. He twitches his wings a few times before lifting off and sailing into the sky.
“It’s a big world,” I say solemnly. “Make good choices.”
My wife laughs. “You think he’ll be okay? He’ll find his mate?”
“Let’s fucking hope so. Otherwise, he’s a goner.”
She shoots me a look at my teasing, and I drag her against my side, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
In the week we’ve been here since the wedding, we’ve been unwinding a few degrees at a time. Annie’s better at it than I am.
One of the attendants’ phones go off.
“It’s been nonstop since the concert,” he says.
Concert is using the term loosely, but Finn and the others’ little acoustic session on the beach led to a viral internet presence.
“You’re going to be inundated with tourists,” I say.
“We tried so hard to hide it.”
“Some people still recognized it.”
“We’ve been telling them it wasn’t us,” the attendant says, smiling.
“It’s suspicious given your new merch,” Annie deadpans.
One of the women is wearing a tour T-shirt.
Zeke sent way too much, so I diverted one case of it for the hotel staff, who’ve been amazing while we’re here.
The attendants disperse, and I thread my hand through Annie’s. Her ring rests against my skin, and I love the feel of it.
“I have plans for us. We’re going for a ride.”
I cover her eyes and walk her toward the circular drive in front of the hotel. When I pull back my hands, her attention lands on the motorcycle.
Annie’s jaw drops. “Oh my God. I love it.” She circles the bike, running her hands over it before her gaze returns to mine. “Where are we going?”
“I have a spot in mind.”
I shift onto it, and she gets on behind me. I navigate us through back roads to a beautiful secluded area, complete with protective trees, on a bluff.
“I can hear the fruit doves,” Annie gushes. “It feels like we’re on the edge of the world.”
“I always feel like that with you.”
I shift her around so she’s in front of me and run my hands down her jaw, my thumbs brushing her lips.
Her slow smile is stunning. “The way you’re looking at me might get me pregnant.”
“But it might not, so why take the chance?”
I kiss her once, twice, our lips clinging as if the friction is essential. She rubs on me, and I know she’s wet under those panties. My fingers stroke up her legs as she hooks them around me.
Every stroke of her hands over my chest, my arms, is heavier than the last, as if stopping touching me would be impossible. When she works my jeans down and I spring free, she licks her lips.
“How’s the view?” I ask breathlessly.
“Spectacular.”
My fingers sink inside her, and she arches her back as I fill her. She rides my hand as if it’s her job. The way she takes her pleasure from me, with the ultimate trust and love, undoes me.
We’ve had plenty of time together this past week, but so far I’m insatiable. Every second she’s not naked in my arms, I’m thinking about what I’ll do to make her that way. What I’ll do the next time she is.
But I blame it on her too. Every time we come up for air, I’ll catch her watching me with the kind of love and devotion I didn’t know existed in this world before her.
“Need you,” I grunt when I can’t take it anymore.
Annie’s gold eyes flash. “Take me.”
I withdraw my fingers and brush them across her lips. I kiss her hard, tasting her as I position myself between her thighs.
“Bike sex is awkward. They didn’t make these for sex,” she mumbles against my mouth.
“You’d think. You giving up?”
“Hell no.”
I rock into her, my cock finding its way to where it most wants to be. Her body gives, accommodating my greedy demands despite the angle. She gasps, bracing on the handlebars behind her.
I want to last forever, but with her like this, we’re already on the edge of the world. It takes nothing to remind me that this is everything.
A dozen heavy strokes and my breath is laboring. The way her hair lifts in
the breeze, her nipples puckered through her bra, doesn’t help me stay in control.
“All I need is this. You.” I press against her clit, rubbing a tight little circle in the way that drives her crazy, and she explodes against me. She calls my name; her body clenches around me, her throat working these strangled cries that make me feel like a god.
Once I’ve given her every second of pleasure I can, I take my own.
It’s unreal every time—because Annie makes me more powerful and more vulnerable than I’ve ever been in my life.
After, when I shift to make her more comfortable, she asks, “You think I’m pregnant now?”
“At least if you are, our kid will have something. A record label.”
“Mhmm, because he or she would’ve had nothing without Wicked.” She shakes her head, smiling.
But I’m a part owner. The deal is going through, with some help from Finn. I guess when something’s meant to be, it’ll happen in its own time.
“I’m not involved at all,” I remind her. “Three more weeks of wedded bliss before the tour.”
“I’ll come visit you.”
“You’d better.” I kiss her. “I wish you were coming with me.”
“Me too. But I want to finish this show. But for the next three weeks, I’m not thinking of anything but us.”
“Good.”
I have a few surprises for her. Like that I tweaked the touring schedule so I can surprise her at least once a month.
“Until then, can I at least get one of your tour shirts?”
My gut clenches at the soft purr in her voice. “I’ll give you one when we get back to our villa. But the second you put it on, you know I’m going to fuck you in it.”
“It doesn’t seem weird at all that you’re turned on by the idea of me wearing your face?” Annie cocks her head.
“It’s so weird.” I grin as I hold up our palms, lacing my fingers through hers. “But you’re stuck with me now. All my weird is coming out.”
She laughs, and I swear I could live on that sound.
When I go on this tour, we’ll be in a good place. And I hope she’s pregnant. I want kids with her because I know she’ll be a great mom. She looks out for those who aren’t as strong as she is, she has a voice and knows how to use it, she admits when she’s wrong, and most of all—she loves as if it’s the only thing worth doing.
Maybe it is.
Epilogue
Two months later
I finish my show and head backstage after the second curtain call, breathless and exhausted at once.
Hands catch me in the wings, dragging me against a hard body. I struggle on instinct, flailing with my elbows, until his familiar scent invades my senses.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
I suck in a breath. “Tyler.”
He’s here.
His grip loosens enough I can spin to face him and peer up into his face, shadowed in the backstage lights.
God, he’s gorgeous. Wearing a black leather jacket over jeans, dark shadow on his face as if he hasn’t had a chance to shave. He’s a fantasy even before I spot the ring on his tattooed hand.
A wave of joy and possessiveness washes over me.
“I was supposed to come to you next weekend,” I murmur.
His slow grin is sexy as hell. “I stole a couple of nights off to check on my wife.”
My heart swells, my chest aching. “Thank you. But I don’t need checking up on.”
“No?”
“I’m very capable.”
“I know that. But a very capable woman has needs her husband can help her with.”
My finger taps my lips as I pretend to consider. “I’m not so sure. You might have outlived your usefulness.”
“Oh really? I’ll get on that jet back to Sweden, then—”
I grab his belt loop, laughing, and he turns back.
“I have to tell you something.”
A few other cast members brush past us, waving at Tyler and exchanging warm greetings.
I wait for them to pass before lowering my voice, taking his jacket in my hands. “I’ve decided to wrap up the show in three more months. I haven’t told the entire cast, but I’ve worked it out with the producers. I’ll be showing…”
Tyler’s face slackens, his gaze dropping to my stomach under the costume. “You’re pregnant.”
I bite my lip, nodding. I took the test a few weeks ago but wanted to wait to see that things were okay and to tell him in person.
His eyes darken, thick lashes blinking. The emotion scrolling across his handsome face is everything.
Then he crushes his mouth to mine. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Oh, so you’re allowed to say that,” he teases, reminding me of the day I arrived in LA before our wedding to a roomful of lawyers. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
I shake my head. “Too early. But since you’re here, I’ll move my appointment. They should be able to give us a due date.”
His grin splits his handsome face.
We head to my changeroom, and he pins me up against the wall.
“It seems ineffective to want to fuck your wife after you learn she’s pregnant,” I breathe.
Tyler’s chocolate eyes warm me everywhere. “This time’s for us.”
The Wedding Night
Rae
Nothing this beautiful is real.
The beach, the music, the torches.
My friends deserve every happiness they found today, but I can’t focus on it.
“I’ve never seen a firework display like that,” Elle says from her spot perched on a stool next to me at the bar.
“Just wait.” I cut a look across the dozen guests remaining since we saw the bride and groom off half an hour ago. They include Jax, now that Haley’s taken the kids back to the villa to sleep, Beck, Annie’s friend Pen, and the artists from Wicked.
Plus the man I’m here to see.
He’s talking with Beck twenty feet away—or being talked to is more like it. Harrison King is tall and broad and fills out his suit in a way no man who deals in deeds and dollars has a right to. His hair, dirty blond in the setting sun hours ago, has warmed in the string lights and torches.
When Beck barks out a laugh, Harrison murmurs a clipped response I can’t hear before scanning the beach.
Beautiful. Precise and dangerous, a hunter content to watch its prey until the last minute, knowing he can bring any other person or creature to their knees by saying the word.
Tonight, he’s not the hunter.
He’s the prey.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
I set my empty wine glass in front of the bartender, who tops it up without a word.
“Dude. You’re on an express train to a liquid coma.” Elle studies me. “Unless you’re planning to ditch the dress and streak down the beach on our last night here, in which case, count me in.”
“I’m not.” I have a plan, and I’ve been killing time, or nerves, or both until I put it into motion.
Harrison King needs to be held accountable for his company’s actions.
A woman was physically assaulted at his club last week, and not a single staff person deigned to intervene.
Not only that, they refused to acknowledge it, burying the incident altogether.
My daily attempts to reach anyone higher up the food chain have failed.
Turns out the man in charge of everything fell into my lap.
This week might’ve been intended as a reprieve from the hustle, but one thing matters to me now.
Justice.
I turn back toward the bar, glancing at Elle. “There’s someone I need to confront. I didn’t want to do it until after the wedding, for Tyler and Annie’s sake.”
Her eyes dance, fascinated. “Really. In that case, I think we need something stronger.” She nods to the bartender. “Two tequilas, please.”
A moment later, they
’re set in front of us.
“You’re not the confrontational type,” Elle says, sliding a shot over to me.
“I am if I’m pissed.”
“Cheers to that.” We clink our shot glasses, and I toss mine back.
The alcohol burns down my throat, and when Elle begs off to use the bathroom, I make a decision.
It’s time.
I square my shoulders and shift off my stool, my wedge sandals slipping in the sand.
I’m tipsier than I thought, my weight falling forward.
The feeling that I’m swimming rather than standing is sliced clean in two by the strong male hands that catch me by the waist and shoulders.
I open my mouth to thank my mystery savior, but the intrusion of a cool British tone has me pulling up short.
“I trust I didn’t miss the confrontation.”
Fuck.
My gaze drags up the hard body encased in an expensive dark suit to the strong jaw and electric blue eyes.
“Confrontation,” I echo, swallowing.
My prey dwarfs me even in my heels. That soul-stealing gaze studies me, insolent. “You told your friend you were preparing to confront someone. So, tell me. What did this person do?”
I grip the back of my stool for balance, jerking out of his grip. “Refused to take responsibility.”
His attention drags down my body, making the hairs on my arms lift in the night air and my nipples harden. That attention stops at my stomach. Lingers.
“Congratulations.”
“You think I’d be drunk if I was pregnant?”
“We don’t know one another that well yet. But I’m relieved to hear it.” The smirk on his lips says he was fucking with me. “So, if he’s not your lover, who is he, then?”
I’m caught in his eyes, glittering in the firelight. “He thinks he’s powerful.”
“He thinks or he is?”
I turn the glass in my hand. “He is in some circles.”
Harrison shifts closer, and his male scent invades my nose.
It’s dangerously refined, like the man himself, reminding me of old money and new sheets.
“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He tugs at the knot on his tie, and my pulse accelerates.