The Last First Kiss (The Do-Over Pact Book 2)

by Rocklyn Ryder

  "I don't think the pact is dumb," I mumble defensively.

  "Oh Sweetie, I know," she backpeddles quickly, "I'm sorry. You know I'm in the pact too, I guess we all have our own reasons for taking it seriously...that's not what I meant though.

  "It's pretty obvious to everyone else that Spence is your One. He's the guy you should have waited for. And he came back to Landsburg, got a haircut and real job, and sold that van he was so into, to buy you a ring...and a house? You said he wants to buy a house?"

  I nod.

  "Obviously, you're the one Spencer has been waiting for too."

  "You think I should go through with it?" I guess I was expecting Abbey to talk me out of this. I thought she'd give me a lot of good reasons why marrying Spence on the spur of the moment is a crazy idea.

  "I came here so you can talk some sense into me," I tell her.

  "Well if you'd listen to me, that's what I'm trying to do," she says plainly.

  "Paige, I've known you since you moved here. We've been friends since the sixth grade. I think we know each other pretty well."

  Nodding, I smile, she's right. Of all the girls in our group, Abbey's the one I've known the longest and she's the one that knows me best.

  "If you don't call Spencer right now and tell him to meet you at the courthouse when they open in the morning, you'll be walking away from the exact do-over you've been looking for since college."

  She leans forward and grabs my phone off the coffee table where I set it next to my keys when I sat down.

  "Call him," she orders, holding the phone out to me.

  "Then go home and pick out something to get hitched in. I'm going to bed. Somebody kept me up all night to tell her something she already knows."

  "I love you," I tell Abbey, taking my phone from her-- and the hint-- and grabbing my keys to head home.

  "Love you too," she tells me, giving me a hug and the shooing me toward the door.

  "Call him." She points at my phone. "Now."

  And then she smiles and closes the door in my face.

  Best bestie ever.

  Spencer

  She was late. And I don't care.

  Paige is notoriously late for everything.

  It was worth it.

  She looks amazing; with her long blonde hair pinned up with flowers and flow-y dress that's mostly white with some lace and pale blue flowers on it that makes her look like she ought to be standing in a wheat field on a summer day instead of under the bad fluorescent lights in the courthouse, surrounded by some truly ugly dark wood paneling.

  The JOP in Landsburg isn't one for sentiment, that's for sure. The ceremony was bare bones and lasted about 45 seconds.

  But it was enough time to get the "I do's" done and now my bride and I are waiting anxiously while our guests fight over who's signing as our witnesses.

  Reagan's my best bro and my best man, but Molly and Abbey are doing rock/paper/scissors to see which one of them gets to put their name on the license.

  "Oh for fuck's sake," Bailey steps in and grabs the pen from the Justice.

  "No, you don't!" Abbey knocks her sideways and takes the pen from her.

  All the girls break out laughing, including my wife.

  Wife.

  Paige is officially my wife. Or, she will be as soon as her friends stop trying to one up each other.

  I wait for the word to hit me and feel like a weight holding me down, but it never does. I like the way it feels and I say it again inside my head.

  I have a wife.

  Paige is my wife.

  It feels so good I can't help but grin from ear to ear.

  "Abbey gets the pen," I declare between laughing at the girls' shenanigans and the sheer joy of the whole absurd morning that is my wedding, "she's the one who stayed up till four in the morning talking Paige into making me the happiest man alive, she gets to sign the license."

  "Hey," Reagan's voice is all protest and I wonder what his trip is-- he got to sign already, "I know it's your big day, baby brother, but I don't know that you're really the happiest man alive."

  He glares at me and smiles at his fiance, "I don't even think you're the happiest man in this room."

  "There you go, man," I give my big brother a fake jab to the ribs before wrapping my arm around his shoulder, "always trying to steal my thunder."

  "Are you throwing that bouquet now or what?" I hear one of the girls say sarcastically to my bride.

  Probably Bailey, sarcasm is her second language.

  "Alright," the justice announces dryly, "you should be able to pick up your copy at the recorder's office in about a week."

  He stashes our license in a folder and begins the process of ushering our group out the door.

  "You can throw the flowers outside, please," he tells the girls as he closes the door to his office.

  Abbey showed up this morning with a beautiful bouquet of flowers for Paige and now the girls are following the deep red and white flowers out to the courthouse steps in a fit of giggles.

  "I cannot believe my baby brother beat me to the altar," Reagan punches me in the arm not exactly lightly, as he and I give the girls some space for their bouquet toss.

  "You're beating me to the dad thing, though," I point out.

  I might be a tad jealous about that.

  Reagan puffs his chest up and smiles as his eyes settle on Molly, who is videoing the bouquet toss since she's already engaged.

  "Well, you can't be far behind us," he says.

  "Slow down, man," I chuckle, "we barely got married. We need to find a house, I need to get settled into the new job, Paige and I haven't even..."

  Shit.

  I see the look on my brother's face as understanding dawns on him.

  It's not like he doesn't know about the pact the girls all made six months ago-- he went though that with Molly.

  "You are kidding me," he grins, "I thought you two were rushing to the altar so you could pretend you weren't pregnant before you got married. You mean to tell me that you haven't even...?"

  He wiggles his eyebrows.

  "Dude." I give my brother a serious look, "You know Paige's story. No way I was going to pressure her to break that pact before the legal stuff was done. I'm just a lucky bastard that she didn't make me wait for another six months or more."

  "She loves you, Spence," Reagan tells me in a voice that's far more serious than we usually use with each other, "that's been obvious since you two started sneaking off for late night heart to hearts. When you left for Baja, we thought she was going to fall apart."

  "You knew we were hanging out all summer?"

  Frankly, I'm shocked. Paige said Abbey had been clueless.

  "Moll and I had some suspicions, but after we left you two alone after the Labor Day picnic, we knew something went down while we were gone.

  "Nothing happened, man, I swear. I tried to kiss her and she ducked on me."

  "Maybe she ducked the kiss, man," Reagan lowers his voice to a confidential tone as the girls go quiet-- Paige says she has to concentrate, "but she obviously didn't duck Cupid's bow. She hasn't been the same since then.

  "Glad you came back for her, man."

  My brother gives me a pat on the back and a congratulatory half hug and heads down the steps toward his own lady.

  Paige cocks her head at the women standing at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her to toss this bunch of flowers at them.

  "Need help?" I ask her.

  "I'm afraid I'm going to subconsciously favor someone."

  I love the little wrinkle that lines the center of her forehead when she's worried.

  "So turn around and throw it over your head, backwards," I suggest.

  Her smile is what I live for.

  "One! Two! THREE!" Paige shouts and then lobs the bouquet over her head.

  "Hey!" Abbey shouts, as Bailey steps in front of her.

  Abbey isn't the only one who's surprised to see Bailey make a grab for the flowers.

  B
ut it's Sierra that holds up a hand triumphantly with the flowers in the air.

  Amid the congratulations, bubbles fill the air as my wife and I head down the steps, eager to get home.

  "Hey! What do you say we take the newlyweds out for a proper breakfast?"

  As Paige and I find ourselves being swept into a car and carried toward the Boat Dock Cafe, I make a mental note to kill my brother.

  Paige

  "My friends are assholes!"

  It's the first thing out of my mouth when Spencer and I finally meet up again at the end of the day.

  It was such a surprise to see everyone waiting for me at the courthouse this morning. I guess Abbey was on the phone as soon as I left, organizing a wedding ambush for me and Spencer.

  That was great, getting a bit of a "real" wedding, complete with bouquet and bubbles and people taking photos so we'll always have the memories.

  It was less great to get whisked away right after the ceremony for breakfast down at the Boat Dock.

  I mean, it was great and all, and I know it was fun for Spence to be ordering breakfast instead of serving it for a change.

  But then Gilbert and Dan-- the brothers who own the cafe, and Spence's good friends and former employers-- got in cahoots with Reagan to throw my new husband a "better late than never" bachelor party.

  Which prompted the girls to insist on giving me a "better late than never" bridal shower.

  Which meant not only have I not gotten the long day in bed breaking the pact that I had planned for my wedding day-- but I haven't even seen Spence since 10:30 this morning.

  "I suspect my brother is to blame for all that," Spence laughs, welcoming me into the quaint little cottage he's renting short term till we buy a house together.

  "Reagan's the reason my girls are assholes?" I laugh back between the kisses.

  "Well, he's definitely not a good influence," he answers, "I'm pretty sure they did that on purpose to keep us from spending the day in bed."

  "Why would they do that to us? Those bitches know how much I was looking forward to this!"

  It's hard to be mad though. Today really was the best day of my life, even if I did have to wait hours to get back to see my new husband and get started on the do-over I've been looking forward to.

  Spence leans against the front porch, pressing me to the wall beneath the porch light. He braces himself with one hand on the wall beside my head and runs his other hand from my hip to my breast, kissing me deeply enough that I feel it in my toes.

  "Sorry, Hon," he says, trailing kisses over to my ear and down my neck, "I might have fucked up when I told him you weren't pregnant."

  "Reagan thought we were pregnant already?" Frankly, I'm a tad shocked.

  "Yeah, he thought we were shotgunning the vows to avoid making it a family tradition."

  "So this really was all on purpose?" I ask, pretending to be surprised.

  " 'Fraid so," Spence mumbles against my throat.

  "You're brother is an asshole too," I say without much conviction.

  Making out on the front porch like teenagers is fun, but I have much more indecent plans for my new husband-- and the neighbor across the street is glaring at us from her front window.

  "Mrs. Putnam does not approve." I giggle lightly between the gasps and the moans that Spencer is causing, with his mouth taking advantage of my exposed cleavage and his hand taking advantage of the fact that I'm wearing a dress.

  "I don't approve either," he murmurs, "I'll get him back, don't worry."

  Laughing, I reluctantly remove Spence's hand from my thigh.

  "No, I don't think she approves of us making out on the porch," I say, tapping him on the shoulder and drawing his attention to his neighbor.

  "Well then, she definitely isn't going to approve of what I'm planning to do to you next."

  There's a thrilling promise in his lurid tone that sends heat blossoming through me.

  "Guess it's time to get inside." He grins and the heat inside me turns to liquid.

  The double entendre is not lost on me.

  "No you don't," Spence warns me, grabbing my arm and pulling me back when I make a beeline for the open door.

  "We are starting this marriage off right," he tells me firmly, pulling me into his arms and off my feet. "No way you're crossing that threshold on you own feet, it's bad luck."

  I barely have time to push the front door closed over Spence's shoulder before he's carrying me into the bedroom.

  Outside on the porch, we were making out like teenagers. Now the mood is different.

  There's electricity in the air and our giggles have gone silent.

  Spencer drops my legs so that my knees hit the bed, but his other arm remains wrapped around my torso and now he uses it to pull me tightly against him so he can kiss me deep and hungry.

  This is what I've been waiting for. Not just the wedding night, or the promise of a future that includes the words happily ever after-- I've been waiting for Spencer.

  My heart knew it last summer when we were spending so many evenings pretending we weren't falling in love.

  My body knows it now.

  It's a good thing we aren't stopping with a kiss this time. I need to fuck this man like I need to breathe.

  My hands rise to his shoulders and slide down his chest. Finally taking their fill of the sculpted muscles I admired so many times over the summer, watching him play volleyball in the park with his shirt thrown in the grass on the sidelines.

  The feel of him is better than I'd even imagined.

  My fingers trace the definition of his pecs, sliding over his tight, flat nipples, and enjoying their journey along the ladder of abs I thought I would never get to explore.

  That's when it hits me: These are my abs now. Mine to touch and admire and-- holy shit-- this man is my husband.

  The revelation does not bring my world to a sudden stop and give me a massive panic attack. Quite the opposite.

  It's excitement and relief that floods my body and stokes the fire that's already threatening to consume me.

  Spencer seems to sense my growing need.

  We tumble together on the bed and our brief moment of awkward hesitation is over.

  Spencer

  I don't know why I got nervous. Maybe it's because I've been thinking about this moment since I met Paige. Maybe it's because our asshole friends pulled us apart all day just to be dicks, and it managed to build the anticipation.

  Suddenly Paige is in my arms, wearing my ring, and we barely kissed for the first time yesterday.

  It feels like we're moving fast.

  It also feels like we've dragged this out for so long.

  But Paige's soft whimper when my thumbs move over her hard nipples, makes all the noise in my head goes silent.

  The way it always does when I'm with her, but in a much different way this time.

  Pushing her down on the bed, my hands can't continue to caress her softly. My grip grows firm, kneading her breasts and pinning her to the mattress with my weight.

  She gasps when I pinch her nipples and I expect her to push me back, but she doesn't. She drives her nails into my back and moves her hips so that her mound pushes into my dick like it's begging to get fucked already.

  Her damn dress is so gauzy, I don't want to fuck it up-- it is her wedding dress, after all, and she'll probably want to keep it nice for memories-- but the material is too delicate and I hear it tear anyway.

  "Get this off," I order, dragging it up her body from the skirt.

  Paige quickly undoes a set of buttons down the front of the dress and the sight of her creamy tits spilling out temporarily distracts me until I feel the material being stressed to breaking again under my hands while my mouth is busy savoring her bare flesh.

  "Shit," Paige squeaks, pulling the dress over her head in a hasty move that barely interrupts me.

  The dress flies across the room. Her fingers lace in my hair. Her back arches, offering me better access to those perfect globes
so I can tease her pale pink nipples with my tongue.

  She moans and the sweet sound makes my already rock hard cock surge with need.

  "These off too," she tells me, tugging at my pants.

  My wife is not showing much patience. She pushes me to my back and yanks my pants-- and briefs-- down my legs and tosses them across the room.

  If I thought this was my chance to get my mouth on her pussy, I was wrong. Paige pushes herself between my knees and slides my cock down her throat, sending me reeling.

  "Fuck," I manage to gasp, doing my best not to lose my control, "you're not playing fair, woman."

  I feel her smile around my dick before she lifts her head and gives me a chance to breathe.

  "Fair wasn't in the vows," she tells me in a voice that's anything but innocent.

  "Good point."

  She doesn't get to go back to what she was doing, but I'll still make sure she finishes what she started.

  Paige lands on her back with a bounce on the mattress as I turn the tables on her.

  In a simple movement, her bra is gone and her panties are the next thing to go flying across the room.

  No more playing. I've been dying for a taste of Paige for months and that she's officially mine, I intend to drink my fill.

  Her nails scrape against my back, dragging the only piece of clothing left between us-- my shirt-- up my back and over my head, but I'm not ready to take my mouth off her yet so the material stays bunched up behind my neck.

  I knew Paige would taste like this, tangy and sweet on my tongue with a scent that makes me desperate for more.

  Her hips buck and she rubs her bare cunt against my mouth, fucking my face while she gasps or moans depending on whether I suck her clit or flick it with my tongue.

  Learning to play her body like a musical instrument is going to be my new addiction.

  Her mound is waxed clean, hiding nothing from me so I can see every crease and fold of her petals as I stroke through them with my fingers.

  The way she moves her hips as I slide my fingers through her slick folds is an invitation to explore inside her.