by Jane Anthony
Backlit by the sunlight, she looks like an angel. I hold my breath waiting for the answer that’s bound to change both our lives forever. Her lips curl into a shy grin as she says the sweetest word I’ve ever heard.
“Yes.”
Chapter Seventeen
GABRIELLA
“Suck it in, babe. I’m gonna get you in this dress if it kills me.” Maribelle yanks on the hidden zipper.
When I told her Anthony and I were getting married, first she screamed, then she dragged me shopping. The simple dress was akin to finding a Rolex in a claw machine. It hung in the window, forsaken and forgotten, waiting for me to come find it.
“I can’t suck in my boobs. Pull harder.”
“We probably should have had this altered.” With a last-ditch effort, she manages to enclose me inside the satin cocoon.
“How do I look?” I ask, spinning in place.
“Beautiful,” she croons, bringing her steepled hands to her mouth as if she’s praying. “And busty. One sneeze, and your tits are going rogue.”
I turn toward the mirror. She’s right. Two large mounds spill from what’s meant to be a conservative V-neck. The only thing holding me in are the thick straps gripping my shoulders for dear life.
“Is it bad?”
“No.” She steps behind me, fiddling with the bow above the tea-length skirt. “It’s you, and it’s perfect.”
Thoughts of the past few months pop through my mind like images through a Viewfinder. Everything happened so fast. One minute, I’m preparing to graduate and head to college, the next I am standing in a consignment dress one size too small about to be married at the courthouse.
But I have no regrets.
Life moves fast. One day, you wake up and everything’s different. You can either try to change it and get back on course, or ride the train to see what happens next. It wasn’t my plan, but Anthony came into my life like an unstoppable force. Hardworking, kind, and handsome. A man who loves hard and fights harder. Anthony is the future I didn’t plan, but the only one I really wanted.
“Hey.” The feel of her fingers on my chin breaks my silent reverie. “Why the bummed expression?”
I shrug. “I guess I just always pictured my dad giving me away.”
She wraps her arms around me, resting her chin on the crook of my neck. “I know how much his disapproval hurts you.”
Reaching up, I wrap my fist around her slender forearm. “Thank you for not telling me how crazy this is. You’re a good friend, Mar.”
“You and Anthony are good together, and you’re gonna have a great life. Besides, who am I to tell you what to do? You’ve had enough of that.”
I twist in her arms to hug her back. All of this goes back to Maribelle. She befriended me when I had no one else, became the sister I always wanted, and the mother I never had. I don’t know what I would do without her.
“I do have to say one thing, though. I don’t doubt how much you love the guy.” She pulls away and fiddles with the sporadic flowers wedged into my bobby-pinned bouffant. “Gabriella Morello sounds stupid as fuck.”
Giggles snowball between us. I lift my lipstick from the dresser and smear on the bold shade of crimson Anthony loves.
Footsteps echo down the hall moments before his deep voice seeps beneath the door. “You almost ready?”
“Yeah,” I yell, smoothing my hands down the fields of tulle. “Wait for me downstairs.”
Facing Maribelle one more time, I inhale through my nose and out my mouth in a futile attempt to calm my racing heart. With shaking hands, I lift the handtied bouquet sitting on the bed.
Every footstep moves me closer, but with each padded sound, the hall seems to lengthen and grow. A lifetime passes before I get to the landing. Anthony in a garage with his name on the door, and me in the front taking the orders. A little girl with dark brown eyes and a scrappy boy with his father’s smile — all of it flashes before my eyes as I descend the steps one by one.
But my wedding day jitters wash away the moment I see him waiting at the bottom. I have nothing to fear, no reason to hesitate. I may not have everything figured out, but neither does he. The world around us can fall apart. We’ll build it up together brick by brick, standing strong for all to see.
“Holy shit.” He growls the words under his breath, elongating the vowels for effect. My arms raise with the lightweight skirts as I turn for his inspection, but he hooks me by the waist and pulls me in. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
The timbre of his voice vibrates my neck, licking flames up my spine. “Do I look pretty?”
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
The smile fixed on my lips can’t be helped. I’m literally beaming from the inside out. “So are you,” I praise, letting his soft hair run through my fingers. Wispy edges kiss his face in a perfect frame around his dimples. It cascades over his shoulders in raven strands that match his suit, dragging my eyes to the mountainous muscles peeking out from open “V” of his shirt. “You clean up nice.”
“Soak it in. You get one hour before I turn back into a pumpkin.”
“I prefer you in jeans and leather anyway,” I purr with a wink.
He falls back, taking me by the hand. “You ready to make this official?”
“Nothing’s gonna stop us now.”
Chapter Eighteen
ANTHONY
Gabby’s hand rests over mine as we ride back to our house. Our house. For better or for worse. The sun glints off the ring on her finger, the same one my mother wore up until the day she died. I glance to my right, knowing I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. Hearing her say I do was hands down the greatest moment of my entire life. This smart, gorgeous girl I met in bar is now my wife.
Wow . . .
I’m a married man — and I have the license in my pocket to prove it.
Panic ripples through me like a stone tossed in shallow water. What if her father’s right? What if she wakes up one day pining over all the things she gave up to be with me?
I couldn’t live with that.
All I can do is take it day by day and keep my vow to love, honor, and protect her from this moment on.
“Is everyone coming back?”
By everyone, I assume she means our sad bridal party of two. Lizard and Maribelle stood as witnesses, the remaining two members of Steele Hammer not in attendance.
They’re furious at me for choosing marriage over rock ‘n’ roll dreams. As if they can’t pick up another guitar player anywhere. I’m done with that. Music was my life, cars a close second, but Gabby changed everything I thought I wanted. She’s the dream now. The only thing in my life worth living for.
“No. Tonight, it’s just me and you.”
A salacious grin rolls across her ruby lips. “Good.”
I pull up in the driveway and cut the engine. “Wait,” I say as she reaches for the handle. I jaunt to the other side and open the door. The second she steps out, I swoop her in my arms.
Delicate laughter trickles from her lips. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying my wife over the threshold.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, melting against me as I bring her through the doorway before setting her down on the kitchen counter. Her inquisitive gaze follows as I move about the kitchen. “What are you up to?”
“I have a few little surprises up my sleeve,” I reply with a grin as I yank the fridge handle. “Starting with . . .” Trailing off, I push aside the gallon of milk and snatch the small bakery box off the shelf. I back up, letting the door slowly close, and lift the lid. “A wedding cake.”
Her hand springs to her chest. Chocolate icing swirls around the top of the single cupcake and comes to a point. She slips her dainty fingers around it, and plucks it from its cardboard case. “When did you get this?”
I set the discarded box on the counter. “I have my secrets.”
Taking the small confection from her fingertips, I bring it to her lips. They instinc
tively part, her eyes fluttering closed as she takes a delicate bite.
“Oh my God, it’s cinnamon,” she swoons, covering her mouth.
“Good?”
“You tell me.” She sweeps her finger through the thick layer of frosting and holds it out. Chocolate and cinnamon explode on my taste buds, a decadent concoction that transports me back to the little coffee shop on the edge of town. So much has happened between then and now it’s hard to believe it was just a few months ago. It feels as if I’ve known her forever.
I set the little cake down and press my lips to hers. Sugar dances on her tongue as it twirls with mine, a tempting tango that only ignites my need for more. I couldn’t wait to see her in this dress, now all I want to do is get her out of it. Slather her skin in sweet icing so I can lick it off. “Delicious.” Rocking back on my heels, I push aside the layers of tulle and wrench open a drawer near her leg. “Here,” I say, holding up surprise number two.
Her chest rises as she accepts my offer. “You made me a mixtape?”
My shoulders raise as I shrug off the embarrassment drifting up my neck. “I was never good at expressing my feelings. Ever since I was a kid, everything inside me felt disorganized and out of place. When the noise in my head got too chaotic to handle, music is what helped me find my way.
“I can say I love you, but there’s no easy way for me to convey how much you mean to me, Gabriella. I’m overwhelmed by you. But even when I can’t tell you how I feel, I intend to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”
Passion rages in her raven eyes. She looks down at the scribbled titles inked on the cover, cradling the cassette in her hands like a trophy. That’s what she is to me. A prize I never deserved but somehow won anyway.
“Will you play it?”
With a curt nod, I take it to the stereo and slip it into the tape deck. The gears turn, the speakers crackling mere seconds before the room fills with sound. I turn toward her and offer my hand as Peter Gabriel calls her forward. She floats on the serenade. Fields of white flowing around her, I pull her against me.
We move to the beat, the words I can’t come up with on my own leaking from my lips as I twirl her around the makeshift dancefloor. Her head on my chest, her heart against mine, it’s everything. This young girl with lips of the sweetest candy and eyes like a thousand churches. She found the fractures within me and held them in her tiny hands, softening their jagged edges with her heat and light.
By the time the song is over, she’s trembling. “You regret marrying me?” I ask
“Why would you ask that?”
“I just can’t believe how happy I feel right now. I look at you, and I wonder how the hell did I get so lucky?”
She rises to her toes, hot breath fanning the shell of his ear as she latches onto the lobe and lets it slowly slide between her teeth. “But you’re about to get super lucky.” She slips her hands inside my jacket and slides it off before fingering the button on my pants. My erection springs out, hard and ready. A slow breath trickles out as her eager fingers play along the shaft and dawdle at the tip. With her eyes on mine, she lowers to the floor. “It’s not fair,” she pouts. “I didn’t get you anything.”
Embers flair, glowing flames that blaze their way beneath my skin just as she has. “I have what I want,” I hiss, tipping my head back as her tongue suddenly runs up the side.
The soft slide over each pulsing ridge drives me insane. My vow of devotion still runs in the background, but all I can hear is the soft gurgle in her throat, the small whimper as I thrust into her mouth. My hands twist in the silken tufts of hair tickling my thighs. I look down. Tulle and satin circle her slender frame, pure and white as her pillow-plump lips wrap around my cock.
And the heat.
It starts at the base of my spine and slithers to my stomach, a roiling fire, and tightens my balls as she flattens her tongue and pulls me in deeper.
But I don’t want my cum burning a hole in her stomach. I want it inside her, leaking from between her legs as she comes apart beside me.
Lifting her chin, I slide from her mouth, her swollen lips rife with saliva. She sweeps it with the butt of her palm, looking up at me from her spot on the floor. “What’s wrong?”
“Get up here.” Taking her hand, I pull her to her feet.
She twists in my arms, pressing her hands on the smooth Formica counter. “Will you help me out of this dress?”
“No,” I growl nipping her neck. “I want you to keep it on while I fuck you in our kitchen, wife.”
“My husband.” She arches her back, reaching behind her to pull me closer and tilts her head up. “There’s one thing I do regret,” she purrs, the quiver in her words holding me back. “You’ve already had me in the biblical sense.”
Our mouths whisper over each other. Her warmth beckons like a drug. “And I’ll have you again.”
“I want you to have all of me, Anthony.” Need drips from every syllable, and our gazes lock.
I bring my hand between our bodies. She curls to meet my fingers as I reach the apex of her thighs, but I slide them back and press the pad of my middle finger against her tight entrance. “All of you?”
A crimson stain splashes her cheeks. Her lashes flutter, the whites of her eyes peeking through kohl-lined lids as I increase the pressure. “However you want me.”
I close the distance, feeling her chest rise as I seal our lips and drink in the taste of the woman I’ve loved since the moment we met. I take my hand off her for the second it takes to open the cabinet and swipe the olive oil off the shelf.
“Extra virgin?” she jokes with a salacious grin.
“Not for long,” I grumble, bunching layers of fabric in my fingers until her pert ass is exposed underneath. Crouching, I skim her panties down her lithe limbs, pausing as she lifts one tiny foot, then the next, allowing me to free her of them completely.
Gnashing my teeth, I sink into her soft flesh, and she cries out, the sound thickening my cock to solid steel. I rise to my feet, letting my hands graze her supple skin. The breath hitches in her throat when I come to her backside. “I’ll be gentle,” I soothe, but the small hole resists my first attempt. I flip the lid of oil with my thumb and squeeze a few drops near the danger zone.
Lubed and ready, one digit slides in easy. She gasps and claws at the Formica. I venture in, then gently pull back, feeling her out before adding another. “Nice and easy,” I croon, reaching around to pull her close. Finding my way under her dress, my free hand finds her pussy drenched.
“Look at you. Your body tense, barely breathing, your tiny asshole is pushing against me, but I bet just thinking about my cock back here makes you want to come, doesn’t it?”
She nods.
My middle finger slides into her wet heat. She lets out a breath, adjusting her stance as I fill her deeper. One in the front, two in the back, she’s tethered to me, mind, body, and soul. I crook against the soft, spongy top of her inner wall. Her knees quiver, her whimpers erratic. I could make her come right now, but toying with her is too much fun.
We’ve only just begun.
My fingers pick up speed, pumping in and out of both tight holes. “What would Daddy think of you now? Dressed in white, begging to get fucked in the ass?”
The mewling sound of her pleasure is the only response she offers. It bounces off the walls and echoes around us, fueling my need to be inside her. Removing my hand, I grab my shaft. A drizzle of pre-cum lubes up the tip. I rub against her, and mix it with spit before pushing inside. She drops her head, letting out a labored groan against the black Formica.
Her back curls, her whimpers growing as her tiny pucker stretches around my girth. “That’s good, my sweet rebel. You’re doing great,” I cajole, moving my hips and hand at the same torturous pace.
Together, we find a rhythm. A slow, steady grind that has Gabriella on the verge of unraveling like twine. I hear it in her moans, feel it in her movements. She’s full and wrecked and torn in two.<
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“I’m not gonna last,” I warn. “You feel too fucking good.”
“Then come in me.”
“You first.” I find her swollen clit and squeeze. Gabby soars. A keening cry tears from her lungs. She pushes up on her hands, her muscles clenching as she covers my hand with spurts of cum.
Light pixies dance before my eyes. I cup her cunt, emptying into her as she sags against the counter. We fall in a tangled heap. A mottled mess of tired limbs, intertwined and twisted around each other.
My little rebel buries her face in her hands, letting me love her down from her intense high. “Holy shit,” she mumbles into her palms. “That was incredible.”
Her fervent rush of breath is symphony. Mozart. Beethoven. Lemmy . . . Who knows? But my world has shifted. The virgin Catholic school girl who lived under Daddy’s thumb, now a defiant sex-dwarf with my cock softening in her ass.
“Come here, crazy girl.” I turn her around and pin her to me. “You always surprise me. I planned on making love to you,” I murmur against her neck. “Slow, steady, all night.”
Her pulse jumps against my lips. “Night’s not over yet.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that, right?” If your father doesn’t kill me first.
Chapter Nineteen
GABRIELLA
My hands shake as I sit outside my childhood home. The gold band on my finger feels heavy on my hand. I’ve done nothing wrong, yet knowing what awaits has me tied in knots. But leather and grease swirl with Anthony’s masculine scent. It floats through the cab, offering silent comfort.