Bringing It Home (The King Brothers Book 2)

by Teagan Kade

  So what’s holding you back? I ask myself.

  “Name it,” he says, eyes bright. “Name the price and I’ll pay it.”

  “I’m not for sale,” I laugh.

  “Like my father says, everything is for sale.”

  “And this isn’t a transaction. This isn’t Indecent Proposal.”

  “You’re damn right about that, because it’s just about the only decent thing I’ve ever done, and if it costs me everything, I’d still do it, so come on, nod. Tell me you’re in.”

  I breathe out long and deep and can’t stop smiling.

  Oh, damn him.

  I nod and instantly start shaking my head.

  He reaches in and kisses me. From that one kiss I know everything is going to be okay.

  Crazy, but okay.

  I break the kiss breathless, staring down at the ring. “You weren’t serious about getting married today, were you?”

  He simply smiles that cheeky King smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  TITUS

  TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER

  I look at myself in the mirror, freshly suited, and I’ve got to say, I’m looking fine.

  My attention turns to Phoenix shaking his head in the background. “I saw that look, bro, but we all know I am the hottest King.”

  I turn around adjusting my bowtie. “So hot the girls you sleep with go dashing out the door the moment the sun comes up.”

  Peyton elbows us both aside. “Look here, fuckers, I am the sexiest King and that’s pretty well-established.”

  “You’re married,” offers Phoenix. “You’re out of the game.” He takes my shoulder. “And in fifteen minutes you’ll be joining him, bro. It’s not too late to pull out, or is that why we’re here, because you didn’t?”

  I give him a big, cheesy grin but nothing else, take both my brothers around the shoulders and pull them close to me. In the mirror the family resemblance becomes clear. “I’m going to miss you jerk-offs.”

  “You’re going to Boston,” says Peyton, “not fucking Botswana.”

  “Does Boston even have a single redeeming quality besides the Sox?” adds Phoenix.

  “Hope you like Sweet Caroline,” continues Peyton. “They play that shit every single game.”

  I smile in the mirror. “I could come around to Neil Diamond.”

  “He’s playing at the Monte Carlo later if you’re really keen.”

  We all turn around as Erin walks in. She’s in a tight red mini the perfect thing for our last-minute jaunt to Sin City. I’m surprised Maya went for it, but hell, if Erin can rope in Peyton, her skills of persuasion must be pretty damn impressive.

  So, here we are—the Little Vegas Chapel waiting for Elvis to serenade us down the aisle less than twenty-four hours since I proposed… again. I still don’t know if Maya’s fully into it, but I’m going to prove to her I want her in my life, forever. I’m going to treat her like a fucking queen. She’ll want and need for nothing. Physically, emotionally, sexually… I’ll be there for her.

  Peyton walks over to Erin, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Don’t know about you, babe, but I’m all shook up.”

  She pushes him away. “You use another Elvis quote on me, and you’re headed to the Heartbreak Hotel, got it?”

  Peyton puts his hands up. “Just getting into the spirit of things.”

  It’s nice having the gang here, though I’m pretty sure Dad’s going to flip when he finds out a) we took the chopper and b) his second—and let’s face it, most beloved—son is eloping. But he’ll get over that too. God knows we’ve been to enough of his weddings to last a lifetime.

  No, it’s better this way. I couldn’t wait a single second more. I have to make Maya my wife. Nothing else will do.

  Nolan’s at training camp, so he’s out, probably be as surprised as the old man when he hears the news. It’ll just be him and Phoenix left to fly the bachelor flag soon, though I can’t see either of them ever settling down.

  You could have said the same about yourself a week ago.

  It’s true, but a lot can happen in a week. Hell, a lot can happen in a single second. If that ball had of been just an inch right, or left….

  I let the thought hang and decide not to dwell on it, because what good does it do? I’ve got to start fresh. I might not remember what I had with Maya, but I can sure get the hell on with creating new memories.

  There’s a knock at the door. One of the chapel assistants telling us with a cheery grin, “He’s ready for you.”

  Peyton claps me on the shoulder. “Come on, brother. Let’s not keep The King waiting.”

  “Hey,” I tell him, “we’re the Kings around here.”

  “And don’t you fucking forget it,” adds Phoenix with a laugh.

  Erin makes a gagging sound behind us. “What the hell was I thinking marrying into this family?” she laughs.

  *

  We hit the Marriage Bureau first thing when we landed. To be honest, it felt more like the DMV. I was surprised to learn it’s open 365 days a year, until midnight no less, but I guess true love never waits.

  We dropped the girls off at Couture Bride with a couple of grand to pick out a wedding dress. Maya wouldn’t have it at first, but Erin insisted. “Hun,” she told her, “you’re marrying a King. Let him treat you like the royalty you are.”

  Peyton, Phoenix and I brought our own suits, dusted them off from Dad’s last wedding and voila, an hour later here I am surrounded by my brothers waiting for the girl of my dreams to walk down the aisle for a rather uncanny Elvis to join us in holy matrimony.

  Phoenix leans over to whisper in Elvis’s ear while we wait. “Loved you in Blue Hawaii, man.”

  “Why thank you, uh-huh uh-huh,” comes the tone perfect reply.

  I shake my head, cannot believe I’m here, but I’m not nervous. If anything, I’m excited, keen to get on with it and leave everyone behind so it’s just Maya and me, a California King bed, and no one to wake us in the morning.

  The three of us brothers straighten up when the chapel doors open, and Maya and Erin emerge. Elvis starts to croon Loving You and I got to say, dude’s got some pipes on him.

  Maya’s smiling, looks absolutely incredible in a simple, minimalist gown. Megan Markle pulled it off in that Givenchy gown, but she’s got nothing on Maya, even with the baby bump. There’s no grand lace, or excessive draping. It’s simple and sleek and her in a way I thought impossible, cut to perfection.

  She’s smiling, but I see the hesitation on her face. I know she’s uncertain, but I’m determined to prove to her I’m committing. I’ll do whatever it takes.

  I take her hands, not surprised to find them clammy. She breathes out and smiles again when her eyes meet mine. Elvis starts to run through the vowels.

  Repeat after me, he says, “It only took one night to get stuck on you, and now my wish came true, you big hunka hunka burnin' love!

  “I thought you were nothin' but a hound dog, cryin' all the time, but now I know you're my teddy bear, ’cause tigers play too rough and lions ain't the kind you love enough.

  “So kiss me quick and love me tender for I can't help falling in love with you.”

  The rest is just as cheesy, but it’s all background noise to me, because I’m lost in her eyes. I see the confidence building in them as I hold her hands, the knowledge growing that yes, this is right and true and everything she wants it to be. I don’t need to tell her. I see it. She knows.

  We exchange rings, Phoenix pretending he forgot it, of course, but we were all prepared for that. I don’t even know where Maya got my ring from, but Erin can be pretty resourceful when she wants.

  My mother’s ring looks perfect on her finger. I tell her as much as Elvis continues on.

  “I do,” she repeats, Elvis muttering something about no return to sender before telling me to kiss the bride.

  I don’t need to be told twice. I take her face in my hands and draw her lips to mine, and right then, in that moment whil
e the others whoop and holler around us, Elvis singing “Only youuuu,” I know I’ve made the right decision.

  We laugh and kiss again and there’s nothing but happiness and joy. In this little bubble, this chapel of love, we’ve made the ultimate commitment and I intend to honor it with every bone in my body.

  “Are you going to make me happy?” she asks, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye.

  I wipe it away with the back of my thumb. “Baby,” I tell her, still holding her face in my hands, “you have my word, but more than that, you have my heart.” She presses her hand against it and nods. I kiss her again and the world fades away.

  We head to Frankie’s Tiki Room, a cozy, kitschy bar with hand-carved furniture and bamboo décor. Everyone’s having a great time, the fruity rum flowing and Maya letting her hair down—literally. Erin’s busy fueling her up, the boys buying me drink after drink until the entire bar is lined with little Tiki statues.

  Erin’s deep in conversation with Maya, giving her the 101 on being a member of the King family. She seems to have managed, though, and that’s saying something given how tough my brothers are on anyone trying to ‘go steady.’

  Phoenix has his arm around my shoulder, on his third Bearded Clam ‘guaranteed to lift that grass skirt’ according to the menu. Pretty sure the only thing he’s going to be lifting later is the toilet seat, but he’s merry enough for now.

  “I cannot believe you’re married, bro. It’s insane,” he drawls.

  I drink, though I’m sipping now. Don’t want to go into this wedding night drunk and numb and fiddling around for my cock. “Maybe you’ll find your own Maya or Erin soon,” I tease.

  “There is this one girl…”

  Now he’s got my attention. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk about any girl where the sentence didn’t include the words ‘tits,’ ‘ass,’ or ‘pussy.’ “Let me guess, cheerleader, blonde—”

  “No,” he cuts me off, almost pushing me off the stool. “She serves soup.”

  I have no idea what he’s on about. Maybe he’s had one Bearded Clam too many. “Does Soup Girl have a name?”

  He squints. “Fuck. I don’t know. H-something, maybe?”

  “I don’t think Helga’s going to be the one,” I laugh.

  He shrugs. “You and Peyton, man, you’ve got me worried. I think this marriage thing could become contagious.”

  “You’d be so lucky,” but my words are lost on him as he picks up the menu and starts flicking through it.

  “Where’s all my attention, huh? It is my wedding night.”

  I turn the other way where’s Maya’s looking at me with a cheeky grin, her hand between my legs, lightly stroking my cock. It responds almost instantly to her touch.

  I lean over to whisper in her ear. “You’ll have it. Just say the word.”

  “Word,” she giggles.

  I scoop her up off the stool, standing. “We’re out of here, people.” I take out my wallet with one hand and place a wad of hundreds on the bar. “Drinks are on me.”

  That distracts them enough to make our escape.

  Erin winks at me from the bar. “Make it a night to remember, will you?”

  I wink back. “Since when does a King disappoint?”

  Maya in my arms, I snake through the tables and emerge out to where a white Cadillac is waiting for us, dumping Maya into the red leather of the backseat and jumping in after her, yet another Elvis waiting at the wheel. “Where to, good-lookin’?”

  “The Palazzo,” I reply. “And step on it.”

  *

  The Palazzo Tower at the Venetian is one of the most luxurious places in all Vegas, though right now I’m pretty sure we’d be happy with a mattress on the floor.

  We’re in a Penthouse Suite, over three-thousand feet of opulence with sweeping views of Vegas below. It’s going to put a serious burn on the family credit card, but as they say, better to ask forgiveness than permission.

  I carry Maya over the threshold and head straight to the bedroom, placing her carefully on the bed, my heart racing in anticipation of the night to come, of our life to come.

  I hold her face. “How did I get so lucky?”

  She laughs. “To be hit in the head by a flying baseball? Guess you just suck at baseball.”

  I run my thumb over her lower lip, slide it further into the wet, coral interior of her mouth. “You’re going to have to pay for that one, Mrs. King.”

  She sucks my thumb, letting it free with a pop and reaching up to kiss me. Her tongue drives deep into my mouth, fights with my own for territory. Her lips leave mine and she falls back. “Better get started then.”

  I don’t need any more encouragement. I roll her over and unzip her wedding dress, peeling it from her body and tossing it to the floor, flipping her back over to take in the supple curves of her body.

  And it’s all mine.

  Always.

  Forever.

  That thought alone is enough to make my cock stiffen painfully against my pants.

  I’m about to lie over her when she pushes me back onto my knees, kneeling herself in front of me and slowly unbuttoning my shirt. “Allow me, dear husband.”

  I like that.

  I help her, pulling my shirt away and let her hands explore my chest. They reach my pants and she tugs them down, finding my cock and going to work on it before I have a single second to protest.

  I close my eyes. “Fuck,” I exhale.

  She takes it deep, her tongue swishing over my glans, her hand pulling my shaft deeper into the hungry, heated cave of her mouth.

  I let my fingers weave into her hair, slowly thrust myself between her lips until a desperate need to taste her overcomes me.

  She’s confused when I pull away. “What are you doing?”

  “This,” I reply, shoving her back and taking hold of her silk panties, tugging them off her legs and placing my hands on her thighs. I spread them as wide I can, slipping two twined fingers inside her pussy.

  She gives a single, quickened pant and throws her head back, her right hand shifting over a breast and pulling her nipple taut.

  I hook my fingers upwards against the sensitive roof of her sex, lying down and covering her clit with my mouth, lapping at her cleft until she’s bucking and forcing herself against my fingers. They squelch in her wetness, swim inside her molten heat and the sound of it is music to my fucking ears.

  I narrow my tongue and lap a little quicker, note the light blush fanning across her skin.

  She tastes incredible, the slick release coming from her core the best kind of aperitif.

  Both her hands move to her breasts. She holds and squeezes them, breathes with a vaulted irregularity that makes my cock twitch in need.

  “Titus,” she gasps with fresh urgency, “I’m going to come.”

  With a final swish of my tongue, I let my fingers slide out of her quietly, come over her and press them into her mouth so she can taste herself.

  “See how wet you are for me?”

  She nods, sucking gently, eyes wide and alert and so fucking pretty it hurts.

  I lean forward to kiss her, taking her mouth with the same kind of urgency, claiming it as my own. Her chest rises and falls below me, the pebbled nubs of her nipples brushing against my skin.

  I could get used to this, I think somewhere in that tangled web of sensation and thought, that heady sexual soup in my head.

  Christ, I cannot get enough of her.

  I take hold of my cock, but she places her hand against it. “Not yet. I’ve always wanted to….” She stops there, unsure.

  “You can tell me.”

  “Sixty-nine?” she says, though it’s more of a question than a statement.

  I nod smiling wide. “My favorite number. Lie down on your side.”

  She lies and I join her in the opposite direction, bring her top leg over my ribs and take hold of her ass, filling my face with her sex.

  Tentatively, head lying on my thigh, she grips my swol
len erection and brings it to her mouth, licking around the head of it before sucking it deeper.

  It’s fucking incredible being locked together her with like this in mutual pleasure, my cock in her mouth, my tongue separating the puffy lips of her pussy, splitting them right down the center and slowly entering her most intimate place.

  She pumps my cock, sucking and licking until I’m close myself and want nothing more than to be inside her.

  I sit up and help her onto her back, climbing over her and sliding inside her in a single, actioned motion. Deep in that tight, wet channel of her pussy, it’s bliss. Legs raised against my sides, she pulls me deeper, fingers clawing into my buttocks, the mattress forcing her down and up against my cock.

  I kneel and change the angle, hitting her g-spot with every thrust, watching the way her hair sways against the side of the bed as I take her.

  “Yes,” she moans. “God, yes.”

  I place my hand lightly around her throat, leveraging harder and faster inside her, the heat, the wetness, the comforting pressure of her pussy almost too much to bear.

  She reaches up and pulls me to her, lets me trail hot kisses down the side of her neck and across the bare blade of her shoulder. When I settle on a nipple, pulling it to tawny attention in my mouth, her moan stops and her mouth simply remains open, caught like a bear trap.

  I plunge inside her, desire building around the root of my cock with every thrust, my head swimming and lost in her body, the two of us more than lovers but passengers on some strange space flight ready to leave the planet for good.

  When she asks to be on top, I simply roll us over and take hold of her beautiful ass, let her fuck me in her own way and enjoy the show. She bounces on my cock with enthusiasm, holding and kneading her breasts, her mouth remaining fixed wide in ecstasy.

  Her movements grow so frenzied I slip out momentarily, her hand moving to lightly stroke me before guiding me once more back inside her body.

  She leans forward and kisses me. I seize the opportunity and drive up inside her, my ass jumping from the bed, hers filling my hands.

  She places her hands on my chests and rocks upwards, leaning back until my cock’s deliciously compressed inside her pussy, her walls clamping my shaft every time it enters her.