I Hate You, Propose: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Engagement Romance
Page 15
I have to run.
I have to stop her.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I push by my family members. I shove my cousins out of the way, never slowing down. There is no time to spare. I burst through the front doors just in time to stop her before she gets in.
“Lindsay!” I scream out.
She says something to the cab driver and turns to face me. I run up to her and stop a few feet away in front of her.
“Lindsay,” I say somewhat out of breath. “Don’t go.”
“What? But I thought this was over,” she says.
“I don’t want it to be over,” I tell her.
I almost reach out to her but drop my hand quickly.
“What do you want, Brent?” she asks in a whisper.
I know now more than ever exactly what I want. More importantly, I know who I want. After crossing the last few feet between us, I get down on one knee, take her hand, and look up at her. I have never been so sure of anything before in my entire life.
“Lindsay Miller, will you marry me?” I ask. “And for real this time.”
She tears up and laughs a little at the same time.
“Yes,” she says with a giggle. “And for real this time.”
Epilogue
Lindsay
It’s June and our wedding day is finally here. We decided to have the event at the Morgan family mansion. It is only fitting, as Grandpa Morgan is the one who brought Brent and I together. And although he is not here in person, he is here in spirit.
I will never forget his kindness. He was the one person who never judged me for being poor. I was always someone of worth in his eyes. And although I only knew him for just a short time, his influence on me will stay with me forever.
The wedding dress I chose is a long gown with a train and Chantilly lace accents. It’s the kind that you see in fairy tales. It is backless with rose appliqués on the sheer elements. The veil is long princess silk covered in floral embroidery done by hand. And I really do feel like royalty wearing it. Today I am one of those princesses I saw in my favorite animated films.
Tina, who helped me plan my wedding, is also my maid of honor. She’s getting married in a few months herself. Sarah is one of my bridesmaids. They attend to me and help me get ready.
“This is going to be the best day ever!” Sarah says.
“It will be,” Tina agrees. “I am so happy for you, Lindsay.”
“Thank you both very much,” I say. “I better not start crying though. I’ll ruin the makeup you did Sarah. Where did you learn to do it so well?”
“I grew up with five sisters,” she says. “We were always competing against each other. Makeup sort of became a survival skill.”
“I can barely apply mascara,” Tina says with a laugh.
“Oh gosh, don’t make me smile,” I say. “That will ruin it too.”
I do start to giggle and that causes Sarah to join in the merriment. I have to take deep breaths as not to go into a fit of laughter. I’m just so excited and happy for today.
“Okay, I’m good,” I say. “I want to see how I look in the full-length mirror.”
They help me stand up and hold the train of the dress as I walk over in my white heels to the mirror. I stand before it and I really do want to cry. Just a few years ago this very same girl wore a second-hand dress that had been hand-repaired, stitched and patched up just to stay wearable. Now I have on a wedding gown which probably costs more than a car. I’ve really have come a long way.
It’s time to go outside to the where the ceremony will take place. I haven’t seen Brent since yesterday, as is the custom. I know he will look handsome in his tuxedo. I am so fortunate to be marrying such a wonderful man.
Brent and Robert made up soon after he proposed to me. They worked out their differences and are now better friends than ever before. Robert agreed to be Brent’s best man. The bachelor party was a wild one, I heard. Arron and Collin were in rare form, I was told. But all-in-all it turned out to be good fun.
I still have some awkward interactions with Brent’s family, but I don’t let it get to me. I know many of them will never accept me as an equal. But that’s on them, not on me. That’s another thing I took from Grandpa Morgan, the ability to not focus on the problems other people have with you, just pay attention to what you can do to make your life and the lives of the ones you care for better.
My dad meets me at the start of the aisle. He looks very dapper in his suit. Brent offered to pay for a new one, but my dad wouldn’t have it. He worked out and got into shape so he could fit into the suit he married my mother in.
He looks at me as I approach, my maid of honor and bridesmaids behind me. I don’t think I have ever seen him prouder. My entourage splits off to join Brent, the groomsmen, and the preacher at the altar. My dad takes my hand and guides me to the walkway.
White rose petals have been placed all along the path leading up to altar. I sneak a glance of Brent through my veil. He looks so poised and confident. He radiates with a purpose and a sense of love. This is where he wants to be. This is where I want to be.
My dad leads me down the aisle. It is mostly Brent’s family in attendance. My mom sits at the front with a couple of friends. As I pass by her, I smile, and she takes a handkerchief to dab tears away from her eyes.
I am guided up the steps by my dad. Once I am standing firmly in place with no danger of teetering off the edge in my heels, my father nods to Brent and sits down to take his place next to my mother.
I am now in front of the man who with be my husband in just a few moments. I have never been so sure of anything before in my entire life. I want to be his lover, his companion, his friend, and his wife.
The wedding goes perfectly. The weather is calm, and the skies are blue. All of the decorations, tables and chairs are arranged with great care. It is a splendid setting.
We exchange our vows and kiss in front of our guests. Then we turn to face them as they applaud, and in a moment of spontaneity, we take a bow. Was it to acknowledge our performance before the real engagement began? Or was it to graciously accept their praise, which was well-earned? No matter the reason, it causes everyone to smile. Arron and Collin even whistle in support. It kind of feels like we won the big game, after all.
The reception is lovely, but a whirlwind. There are more awkward exchanges with Brent’s family members, but Arron and Collin support us and do their best to talk us up every chance they get. To think, a few months ago we were enemies. Now we’re allies. Life is so strange and funny.
After dinner is over and desserts are brought out, Robert stands to give a toast.
“Brent befriended me when I first started school,” he begins. “I was a lonely shy kid who was struggling to adjust to life at a big university. Brent looked out for me and helped me gain the confidence I needed to take on the world.
“Now he’s married to my little sister. I remember when she was growing up she shared many of the same feelings I had. That we would be swallowed up by the universe. But our parents did their best to guide us. She was also able to get into the same school and start building a life.
“A funny thing happened along the way. She met Brent through me and they fell in love. Which is great, because now I not only have a best friend, but a brother-in-law. I don’t know who is luckier, them or me.”
The crowd laughs. Robert is really good at speeches!
“So now my kid sister is grown up,” he continues. “And has become a fine young woman. I know she will always be okay. But with Brent by her side, she will be not just good, but great. The two of them pair together in a classic way. I am happy they found each other, through me, mind you.”
More laughter. He smiles and pauses to acknowledge the audience.
“I wish them success,” he says. “I wish them grand adventures. I wish them happiness and joy. And I know that whatever challenges present themselves, they will rise to meet them. To Mr. and Mrs. Morgan!”
With that,
he raises his glass. The audience does the same. Glasses are clinked and champagne is sipped. It is a moment I’ll never forget.
After the reception, we make our way to the limo. I throw my bouquet back at the crowd and Tina and Sarah both try to catch it. I am not surprised when Tina wins.
We get in the back, wave through the windows as we take off, and head down the road towards our destination. Before our honeymoon begins, we are staying overnight at the fanciest hotel in town.
As man and wife, we check in under the Morgan name. We head up to the Presidential Suite. It is a gorgeous room designed with Victorian flair. If I didn’t feel like a princess before. I certainly do now.
We both got tested before getting married. Now we can enjoy sex without a condom. It has been a week since we last slept together, so while I am not a virgin, it will be exciting and new to be taken by him. Particularly now that he can enter me bare.
There is a tray with champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, crackers and cheeses. Brent pours us two glasses, takes one for himself, and sits in the big chair that is part of the living room arrangement. He looks like a king sitting there.
I start to slowly undress in front of him. My wedding dress is a bit tight, and there is a corset underneath, so this is indeed does take time, but Brent doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he appears to be enjoying it.
He reaches over to the tray, takes a chocolate covered strawberry, pops it in his mouth, takes a sip of champagne, and continues to enjoy the show. Seeing him so relaxed like this starts to turn me on. I feel my pussy get wet. I don’t want to ruin my panties, so I take those off first and throw them over to him. He twirls them, smiles, and tosses them on the sofa.
I take off my jewelry and turn my back to him and motion for him to unzip me from behind. As he does so, he kisses my neck and brushes his manly hands down my shoulders and arms. I get goosebumps. He goes to sit back down and watch the show. I turn and let the dress slide off.
I am standing in my lingerie now: white corset, garter belt and heels. I placed my panties on the outside of the belt while getting dressed earlier in the day. A little trick Sarah taught me. It makes for a better presentation. I start to take off the lingerie when Brent stops me.
“Keep it on,” Brent commands.
A woman must obey her husband, right?
He motions for me to come over to him. When I am directly in front of him, he points for me to get on my knees. I do so. The corset is so tight and restrictive, it keeps my posture up and my breasts pushed forward. He is pleased by this site. How can I tell? By the growing bulge in his trousers.
He unzips his pants and presents his big cock to me. It really is a beautiful thing. I know I’ve had it inside me before, but it seems different now. More powerful. And all mine now and forever to enjoy.
I slowly place his dick in my mouth, licking around the head. He looks down at me and smiles. I close my eyes and suck the tip, applying pressure and then pulling back. He seems to like that.
I then put his cock back in my mouth and start to suck it more, this time taking it deeper. I look up and lock eyes with him. I am his wife now, subservient, obedient, anything he desires I will do everything I can to satisfy him.
He stands up and holds the back of my head. He guides me forward. I open my mouth to receive his hard shaft. Brent shows his dominance over me, not letting go, as I have to adjust and take it. I slobber a little, the drool runs down my chin and onto my tits. He face fucks me and I love every second of it.
Then he pulls out and takes my hand. He lifts me up. I want to take off my corset, but he stops me from doing so and bends me over the sofa.
“I am going to fuck you right here and right now since you are my wife now,” he says in sexy, playful, yet dominate voice.
He comes up behind me, holds my hips, and guides his bare cock to my quivering pussy. We’ve always used condoms before, so this is a new feeling. As he slides in, I quickly realize that this is as real as it gets. Skin on skin.
I still have my heels on, and they prop me up a few inches, giving him an even better angle to fuck me deeper. And he does so. I lean over on the sofa and take it. I lose myself in as each thrust builds up not only his climax, but mine.
I think he likes me like this, all in white, a corset cinching my waist, garters, stockings and heels. Maybe I will wear lingerie more often in the future. I would love to keep surprising Brent.
He takes me to the bed, and we shift to love making. It is our wedding night, after all. He lets me take off my lingerie, but slowly so he can watch, then he tenderly kisses me.
“I love you, Lindsay,” he says.
“And I love you, Brent,” I say.
We were close to cumming on the sofa, but here in bed, we take our time again. This is about our connection, or commitment, our passion for each other. Yes, this is about our love.
We are in the missionary position. The man on top, the woman on the bottom. How many babies have been made this way?
I feel his manhood slowly move in and out of me. I know that soon I will feel his warm cum deep inside of me for the first time. And as we come closer to that point, I myself feel my feet and fingers start to tingle.
He starts to make love a little faster. He is so close, I can see it in his face. He kisses me again. He goes faster still, and I hold onto him. I pull him close and we both cum at the same time. It feels different, more intense. I know that his seed is inside me now. I take comfort in that fact. I am his.
He pulls out and I can feel some of the cum drip out of my pussy. I move my hand down and rub my pussy a little as the sensation fades. Brent then spoons me and kisses me and shows me he loves me.
We lie like that on the bed for a while, finally husband and wife. Happy that we moved through our problems with each other to find the bond that we had and will share for the rest of our lives.
THE END
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Sneak Peek of I Hate You, Move In
Enjoy this sneak peek of I Hate You, Move In: An Enemies to Lovers Accidental Roommate Romance.
Chapter One
Tina
“You should be living at home,” argued my dad, even as he carried a mini-fridge into my brand-new dorm room. “Why can’t you commute?”
“Daddy, we’ve been over this,” I pleaded. “I want to meet people. Plus, Kensington State College recommends that I live on campus for the first year. They said it helps freshmen transition to university life way better than if they tried it living off-campus. Or not at all,” I added, with a note of sarcasm.
I knew I should appreciate the fact that my parents were helping me move into my dorm for my freshman year of college. But I didn’t ask for their help and honestly, I didn’t want them there.
My parents were very old fashioned and that often equaled embarrassment. It was always a huge battle with them, to get them to let me do anything on my own.
I couldn’t understand it. I was eighteen, not eight. Didn’t they want me to grow up and be independent? Didn’t they want me to learn how to be an adult?
Quite frankly, I couldn’t wait to be free from their iron grip for a while. I mean, actually having a room to myself where they wouldn’t be constantly looking over my shoulder and judging me just sounded like heaven.
Not that I hated my parents or anything crazy, but you know how they can get, at least if you have the over-protective, smothering kind of parents like I do. They crawl all up in your business until you can’t breathe and can’t even think.
I wanted to live on campus just so I could meet people alone, in my own space. Without my mother running my life and without having to see my father’s judgme
ntal looks right before he locks me up, Rapunzel-style.
“So, you’ll move back home sophomore year?” Daddy asked hopefully.
He set the minifridge down next to the old wooden desk that came with the room. Someone had scratched party on into the dented surface.
“Daddy, I love you, but I need to start living on my own,” I explained for the twentieth time, as I walked over and opened the dorm’s only window. “How am I going to learn how if I don’t?”
“I could teach you,” he offered, totally serious.
“You did teach me. For eighteen years,” I corrected, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And now I’m going to put what you taught me into practice. That’s how it’s supposed to work. You’ll see. It’ll be great.”
Mom came in with an armful of my clothes. She found the dresser and started arranging my belongings, just like she did at home.
“I don’t see why you even need to go to college,” she muttered, her long, conservative dress rustling softly.
“Oh my gosh, Mom,” I said, embarrassed, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
“You just need to find a good and Godly husband,” she insisted. “And you could learn to cook.”
“I know how to cook,” I corrected her, walking over to watch her organize my clothes. “You taught me, remember?”
“It’s just that, well, you’re not that good, dear,” she said, patting my cheek.
I sat down heavily on the twin bed. I didn’t feel as insulted as I probably should have by that comment. I hated cooking, anyway.
“Mom, please,” I begged. “Can we not do this? I’m already here. Do you really want to drag me away from the only chance I’ve ever had to see what life holds outside our apartment? Away from the only thing I’ve ever worked towards and pinned my hopes on? Would you seriously trade all my dreams for my return back home today?”
“Yes,” she said determinedly, not looking up from the drawer she was organizing. “Yes, I would. I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.”