Vow of Sacrifice

by Emma Renshaw

  I turn in my seat, pulling her forward until she falls against my chest. I shake my head. “Don’t do that. This is what it’s is about, birdie—living your life surrounding by people who care and love you. Having a damn good time. He doesn’t get to win. He doesn’t get your fear. He gets nothing from you ever again. This is living, Iris.”

  My hand weaves into her hair and I plant a kiss against her lips as I breathe her in. “He gets nothing. Don’t hide in the shadows when everything you are deserves to be in the light.”

  “Callan,” she whispers against my lips. She kisses me and opens her mouth. Mine matches hers and groan slips free when her tongue tangles with mine a short, sweet, wet, and insanely sexy kiss. “If going through hell brought me here, I wouldn’t change it. Not a single second of the pain. You’re worth the end result.”

  “Stop kissing,” Harper says. “It’s our turn.”

  I watch Iris’s hips sway up to the stage as I try to catch my breath. That girl undoes me. I’m transfixed by her as she moves and laughs with the others while singing a Spice Girls song.

  I’ve fucked up a lot in my life. Definitely didn’t stay on the straight and narrow. Iris is the chance I never imagined having. As she tried to hide herself from the world, I saw her light trying to burst free and as I watch her on stage, I see it now. It’s shining like a fucking beacon for all to see and I’ve never seen a sight so beautiful.

  Hudson meets the girls on the side of the stage. He whispers something in Iris’s ear. She laughs, looks over at me, and nods her head.

  “What was that about?” I ask when she gets back to the table. “By the way, loved the performance. I wouldn’t mind a private one later.”

  “Funny you should say that,” she says and grins as the announcer starts speaking again.

  “Iris and Hudson would like to request Foxy to come to the stage so he can sing “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix.”

  “You didn’t,” I say. She shrugs unrepentantly.

  “Show me what you got,” she says and winks.

  “Only for you,” I say and take her mouth in a deep kiss before heading to the stage.

  And, yes, later that night, Carmen wins for the second year in a row.

  Chapter 28

  Iris

  When I was a little girl, I thought Cinderella’s castle at Disney World would be the most magical place to get married to my Prince Charming. I’ve never been. Grams and I couldn’t afford to go, especially after Poppy passed away, but I saw it on TV. It was lit up against the night sky and colorful fireworks were exploding behind it. If I were married at Cinderella’s castle, everyone would be there, of course. Mickey and Minnie. Beauty and the beast. Ariel and Eric. The whole gang.

  That was the wedding of my dreams. By the time I got to high school, when those dreams probably would’ve evolved into something else, Grams got sick, and fantasies of a big wedding to my Prince Charming flew out the window, replaced with cancer-related rhetoric.

  My wedding to Pierce was definitely not what dreams are made of.

  I know my feelings for Callan are irrevocable. He could walk away from me tomorrow, and there wouldn’t be a person who could ever replace him. Even though I’m falling hard—and have thought about spending the rest of my life with him—I haven’t thought about a wedding.

  If I was tasked to come up with a dream wedding on the spot, it would be similar to this. Hudson and Ava are getting married today. I came to the venue early with Callan and Brae. Callan hasn’t wanted Brae or me to be out of his sight, so I’ve stayed in the chapel, watching the hustle and bustle of preparations.

  The little chapel is nestled in the woods on the outskirts of Austin. Tall pine trees surround it, and the light filters through perfectly. The sun is shining through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Tonight when the sun is setting and creating a warm, rich glow through the room—making each cherry wood and white painted pew look like it’s cast in light—it’s going to be better than Cinderella’s castle.

  I’m amazed how many people are moving around the room. The florist and her assistants are setting up a flower arch above the altar. White and blush roses, spread through the greenery, make the space even more romantic. The wedding planner is setting up a table near the entrance, and two people carrying a five-tier cake just walked through the door to the reception area.

  “Iris.”

  I turn in the pew and smile. Ava is standing at the end of the aisle she’ll walk down in just a few hours in a short white silk robe. Her blond hair is up in large, round curlers. Her hands are planted on her hips, and her bare foot is tapping against the carpeted aisle.

  “Happy wedding day,” I say, with a wide smile.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  My back straightens. Am I not allowed to sit in here? “Callan didn’t want me at home alone.” I hope she can’t hear my uneasiness. I try to recreate my grin from moments ago, but it feels fake now.

  “I told you I wanted you to get ready with us,” she says as she walks toward me.

  She did tell me that, but I didn’t want to intrude on her day, so I bowed out.

  “I want you in there. You’re in the family now, girl. Trust me, once you’re in, they don’t let you go.”

  Warmth spreads through my belly. Callan’s given me more than he will ever know. I take the hand Ava holds out and follow her into the bridal suite with the rest of the women, who have found their places in my heart.

  “It’s happening soon, gentlemen,” Hudson says and grins as he tugs on the lapels of his tux. “Ava will be right back and then we’re going to do this. There’s a hardhat under each of your seats for you.”

  “Really? A hardhat?” Callan asks.

  “Ava likes my hardhat,” Hudson says and winks.

  I burst into laughter as Callan says, “Should not have asked.”

  I lick my lips and chuckle as Hudson walks away when Ava comes back into the room and resumes her seat.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” Callan whispers. He looks a little pale. His hand is resting on my shoulder, and his lips are so close to my ear I feel the brush of them with every word. I shiver in my seat and goose bumps break out over my skin. I turn my head slightly noticing he looks a little pale.

  “It’s going to be great,” I say and bend down and use my hand to feel under his seat until I find what Hudson was talking about. I bring it out and place it in my laugh. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to bust out laughing at Callan’s horrified expression. He leans closer to get a better look.

  “I’m going to kill him,” he mutters as he looks down at the bright silver hardhat sitting in my lip. There’s a turquoise painted fox on the side that has its leg wrapped around a stripper pole with his new nickname underneath. Foxy.

  “I kind of like it,” I say and brush my finger of the top.

  “I can’t do this.” He’s staring at the tile dance floor. We’re sitting at a long table with Hudson, Ava, and Lilly, surrounded by their bridesmaids and groomsmen and their dates. Lilly leaves with Hudson’s parents, and Hudson is about to surprise Ava. “I won the bet between Hudson and me,” Callan says. “I shouldn’t have let you convince me.”

  “You promised,” I whisper back. I’m not letting him out of this one.

  “I shouldn’t be held accountable for what I promise while you’re naked and on top of me. That’s not fair. You could get me to agree to anything while you’re naked.”

  “That’s good to know,” I whisper and plant a kiss against his cheek.

  “The trick is to make her promise something in return. That’s the only reason why I’m doing this shit,” James says. The corners of James’s lips tip up, and it’s the biggest smile I’ve seen from him. His eyes turn to his wife, Tate, and that tiny smile turns wolfish. “She makes you do something, get a dirty promise in return.”

  My jaw drops and Tate blushes. I’ve never heard James say many words, but the eye contact between the two of them is making me f
eel like I’m intruding on something dirty and totally private.

  “Should’ve thought of that,” Callan grumbles.

  During our conversation, a row of chairs was set up in front of the table. Hudson stands up, dropping a quick kiss on Ava’s cheek, and walks to the DJ booth. I’m almost bouncing in my seat.

  “Bluebonnet,” Hudson drawls. “Come here.”

  Ava stands, and Hudson licks his lips watching her walk toward him. The obvious love between them makes my heart pound, and I wonder—if Callan and I get married one day, will our love be this obvious? Callan places a kiss on the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

  “Bluebonnet, you’ve made me the luckiest man in all of Texas today. The whole damn world. I wanted to give you something to show you how much I love you and just what I’m willing to do for you. Sit down in the middle of those chairs, and have your girls sit with you.”

  “That’s you, too,” Callan murmurs in my ear.

  “No, it’s for the bridesmaids.”

  “Birdie, there’s a chair there for you. Get used to it.”

  “Come on, Iris,” Tate says as she gets up from her chair. I walk around the table with her. “We’re the only two who know.”

  “Really?” I ask, getting even more giddy. I take the seat on the end, allowing Tate to sit closer to Ava. Tate rolls her eyes.

  “Eventually you’re going to get it. This is Callan’s family. James may not be blood-related, but they are brothers. I have a feeling you’re going to be my sister-in-law one day. You’re in. Don’t second-guess it, babe.”

  “Gentlemen,” Hudson says. The smirk on his face is adorable.

  “What’s happening?” Valerie asks Tate. Tate shrugs.

  Callan, James, Roman, Kiernan, Liam, and Gabe walk out to the dance floor, meeting Hudson in the middle each with a hardhat in their hands, though from what I can tell, Callan’s is the only one with a stripping fox on the side of it.

  “I love you, bluebonnet.”

  The guys are in a straight line with Hudson about a foot in front of them, his eyes locked on his brand new bride. Music bursts from the speakers as Hudson slowly walks toward Ava, lip-syncing “My Girl” by Dylan Scott and pointing at her. The men behind him stand still until he gets to the chorus, they put their hardhats on top of their heads, and they unbutton their jackets and whip them off to the side just in time for the song to change to a sexier beat.

  “U Got It Bad” by Usher picks up, and Hudson continues to sing that she’s his girl and he’s her man. The guys behind him are rolling their hips and unbuttoning their shirts. At least I’m assuming all the guys are doing this. My eyes are solely on the Caribbean-blue eyes that are lighting me on fire and making wetness gather in my panties.

  He points at me when the song claims “you’re my girl” and winks. His starched white shirt is falling from his shoulders, exposing his taut, golden arms. I squirm in my chair.

  “Dear lord,” Valerie says. She grabs her purse and pulls out a stack of ones. A laugh bursts from my chest when she makes them rain down on the dance floor.

  My focus lands on Callan again, just as he drops to the floor and rolls his hips. It’s exactly the way he moves over me when we’re together. My nipples pebble beneath my dress, and a low moan escapes my lips. I would be embarrassed if the ladies sitting next to me weren’t having the same reaction to their men.

  It’d be impossible for Callan to see my turgid nipples or hear the noise that I just made, but I swear I see his eyes focus on my breasts and a grin break out across his face. He winks again, and I’m melting into a puddle in my seat. When I convinced him to do this, I never imagined it would be this sexy.

  “Gross,” Brae groans. I find her in the crowd. Her head is on Corbin’s shoulder, and he’s cracking up as he films the dance. It’s good to see him smiling and laughing. The past month, since he was stabbed, hasn’t been the best for him. He hasn’t been the same kid I’ve come to know, but he’s slowly starting to heal not just his physical wounds, but his emotional wounds as well.

  I find my man again. He’s standing and rolling his hips to the song, walking toward me as the song changes to “Ride” by SoMo. When he reaches me, he hovers over me—rolling his hips in time with the beat and lyrics—and I moan again, needing him. A handful of crumpled ones is pushed into my hand. I stuff one into Callan’s pants, right in the center of his enticing v. He spins around and starts twerking in front of me. My eyes watch his butt move up in down in front of me, but also catch James next to him. I never thought I would see that strong, silent, and giant man doing anything remotely like this. Whatever Tate promised him must be good. She’s throwing ones at home and shoving them into the back of his pants before she slaps his ass. He looks over his shoulder at her giving her a look so hot it’s a wonder she didn’t catch on fire.

  They turn back around as my attention turns back to my man and pull all the women to their feet. Callan’s lips land on mine as the final song ends. I wrap my hands around his neck and tug on his head toward me so I can whisper in his ear.

  “Find us somewhere private.”

  Chapter 29

  Callan

  I snag my shirt from the floor on our way out of the reception. My strides are long with one destination in my mind. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Iris during that dance. I didn’t want to do it, and now I’m glad I did. I saw every heave of her chest and watched a blush spread up her chest and neck and to her cheeks.

  I couldn’t hear her moans, but I know the shape of her mouth when she’s in ecstasy. My cock was hard throughout the dance as I watched her squirm in her seat. My need for her is roaring through my veins, and every drop of blood I have is rushing south to one spot.

  “My legs aren’t as long as yours,” Iris says. I glance at her; she’s practically running to keep up with me. I lean down, not breaking my stride, and throw her over my shoulder, and I start to walk even faster down the hallway. I open the door to the room where the guys and I got dressed.

  I lower her to the ground, letting her slide down my body. My hand cups her ass, making sure she stays in contact with me. Iris licks her lips and takes a breath before her mouth crashes down on mine.

  I fall back onto the couch, bringing Iris with me, so she lands on top of me. My tongue sweeps inside her mouth, and my hand fists in her hair. Iris grinds her hips over my hard dick. She grabs my undershirt and starts moving it up my body.

  “Take your dress off, birdie.” My voice is gruff and hard. I rip the shirt over my head and unbuckle my belt, sliding my pants down my legs and kicking them off. I’m in nothing but my briefs watching Iris slowly slide the zipper down her dress.

  “Giving me a show, birdie?”

  “I really liked watching you,” she says, her eyes flaring. Ideas about what we could watch each other do race through my head. I could watch her do anything and never tire of it. The knowledge that she’s it, the one, mine, slams into me harder than a Mack Truck.

  I’ll do anything to keep her.

  The left strap falls from her shoulder, the right following it. The pretty pink color compliments her heated skin. The dress gets caught on her breasts, but when she breathes deeply, it falls and exposes her. She isn’t wearing a bra, and her perky tits are bare for my viewing.

  I slide my hand in my briefs, squeezing my cock and willing myself to calm down so I don’t finish before we even get this started. I’ve never had a problem controlling myself, but Iris excites me in ways I’ve never experienced.

  My eyes coast down her body, locking on the barely-there pink lace. The only thing blocking me from her pretty pink pussy. I grab her hips and bring her to me. Her legs part as she straddles me. My hand skims up her thigh, and I edge a finger into her thong. Iris rocks her hips, trying to get my finger where she wants it.

  I love to tease her, but I can’t wait anymore. I fist the lace and rip it from her body before I tug my briefs down all the way. My hard length springs free from its confines. Iris lifts
her hips and hovers over my erection. I sweep my finger through her folds, testing her readiness. She’s hot and soaking wet.

  “I want to ride you,” she whispers as she wraps her hand around my shaft and positions it at her entrance.

  “I’d never stop you,” I grunt. She slides down my shaft, taking in one inch after another and wrecking me at the same time.

  I lean forward, tracing my tongue around one peaked nipple and up her chest, over her collarbone, and up the column of her neck to her ear. I tug on the lobe with my teeth as her ass meets my thighs. We both groan.

  “I’m going to keep you,” I whisper in her ear. She shivers and swivels her hips, making my eyes roll back in my head. I hold on to her hips, lifting her and slamming her down as I rise from the couch.

  Iris screams and tugs on the ends of my hair, lifting herself again and slamming down. “Harder,” she cries.

  I meet her thrust for thrust. Sweat starts to slide down my chest, and my eyes are locked on her bouncing tits. I lean forward, sucking one into my mouth, and my fingers find the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. With three flicks, she goes off like a rocket and I follow her, coming inside her without a condom for the first time.

  Thoughts of Iris’s belly swelling with our child don’t scare me. They only make my just-spent cock hard all over again.

  Chapter 30

  Iris

  “Do you like this color, pretty girl?”

  Avery, Savannah’s daughter, is sitting in my lap, crumpling one of my paint chips in her chubby little hands. The chips scattered in front of me are all different hues of turquoise—completely inspired by Callan’s eyes.

  Savannah and I are teaming up on a project, creating a pitch to an outdoor sports company in the Austin area. Their website is basic, a blast from when the internet started. It’s hard to navigate and their branding is all wrong. Recently, they’ve gained a lot of traction due to their quality equipment. To take it to the next level, they need some help. Savannah and I are overhauling their branding.