by S. C. Adams
“Just now, you said you loved me,” says Kate. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course, I did,” I say. “I’ll say it again. I love you. I’m so madly in love with you it hurts. I can’t stress enough to you how scared I am of this. I’m sorry for acting like a schmuck before. I just want us to be together.”
She touches my face. Instantly, we melt together.
“I love you too, Aiden,” she whispers. “I don’t want this to end, either.”
“So, what do we do?” I ask. “Do we pretend we’re already engaged to maintain the lies we’ve been telling this last week?”
“I don’t want you to have to lie to them,” she reiterates.
“They’re both sharp, but I don’t think they’re going to follow our story or logic very well,” I suspect. “The only thing I could think of doing that would make the most sense to them and get them up to speed is if I did this whole ‘fake engagement’ thing right and actually proposed to you. I’ll do it when we’re all together tonight.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” says Kate. “You’re going to propose to me tonight?”
I nod. “Hopefully you’ll say yes.”
“Is it staged and part of our whole thing here?” she asks. “Or are you actually going to propose to me for real?”
“Why don’t we find out?” I say with a wink.
When we get to my grandparents’ house, I take Kate by the hand, give it a kiss, and escort her from my limo to the front door of the house.
The night is wonderful. Even with my grandparents breaking out the photo albums like they promised, we have Shepherd’s pie and steamed vegetables on the side, and I am again the quiet one in the group while anecdotes go around the room.
Before we got out of the limo that night, I had her give me the engagement ring so that they won’t see it right away and start asking questions. I used this opportunity to give her an ultimate switcharoo. Little did she know that I am going to be playing it real. How she responds to my call is entirely up to her.
“Everyone, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like the floor for just a few moments,” I finally say.
“What is it?” Nana asks. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s better than all right, Nana,” I assure her. “It’s been getting better every day. Ever since I met you, Kate.”
It’s still heartwarming for me, even though we both know what is coming. We can’t stop smiling at each other because I think we are both becoming aware of what kind of proposal this is shaping up to be.
“I’ve been falling so hard and so fast for you, Kate,” I say as I slowly descend onto one knee. “I feel safe and secure whenever you’re with me. I feel stronger, smarter, and better. I’m ready to share my life with someone I love.”
I pull out a jewelry box that Kate doesn’t recognize and extend it out toward her. Her look of rehearsed surprise is slowly morphing into sincere confusion.
“I’m ready for something real.”
I open the jewelry box and reveal a new engagement ring. This one is completely different in size, shape, and design from the one I’d gotten years ago. She is literally stricken by what she is seeing. She immediately begins to cry.
“Kate,” I say. “I’m on one knee, giving myself entirely to you, if you’ll have me. This ring was made for you. I want you to have it. Will you marry me?”
Everyone in the room is in tears. Nodding like a bobble-head, Kate accepts my real proposal.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Aiden. And I love you, too.”
I slide the new ring on her finger, and it fits instantly and perfectly. I pick her up in my arms and kiss her long and passionately. My grandparents are freaking out behind us. All I want to do is be alone with my fiancée and list the ways that I love her. I want her to know how special she is.
When I lower her back onto the floor, she continues to hold onto me tightly. She nestles her head into my shoulder, laying her face near my ear.
“Am I really your fiancée?” she whispers.
“Only if I’m the luckiest man alive,” I reply.
We are ecstatic and thrilled for the future that lays ahead of us. It all is beginning to fall into place.
Epilogue
Kate
Six months later and it’s our wedding day. It’s a huge event with a huge turnout. Over 350 people attend the ceremony and almost all of them stay for the reception.
My bridesmaids and Aiden’s herd of groomsmen have helped us plan a lot of fun activities, and everyone at the party is involved in dancing. The day is just about us, and everyone is having a blast.
There have been rumors about a week ago that Sarah Blackburn has planned to have someone crash the wedding and start trouble. I hadn’t even heard the rumor until the day before the wedding, and Aiden didn’t want me to hear about it and worry. We have plenty of security around us, but I do occasionally wonder if something is lurking nearby, waiting to ruin our perfect day.
About a month after we actually became engaged, Aiden and I learned that Sarah had bribed someone working security at the Tech Wreck building for the security footage of us having sex. It’s ironic that what she did to try and drive Aiden and me apart, only served to bring us closer together.
At first, Aiden considered suing Sarah over leaking the tape and even considered bringing criminal charges against the security worker who gave her the tape. He really wanted to see the both of them go to trial for their illegal and immoral behavior. I wanted justice too, but it felt better when deciding to ignore Sarah Blackburn and the scandals from many months ago. We decided it would be a magnificent waste of both our times to think about her. We agreed to just let the woman be bitter and let our love shine on.
“Everything’s wonderful,” Aiden would say. “What’s holding a grudge going to do for us? It’ll just keep us angry. Let’s look forward, not back.”
It is difficult to dwell on someone as awful as Sarah for long when I’m wearing the most glamorous wedding dress in all of New York, newly married to the best man I know, with our limitless future on the horizon. I truly am deliriously happy.
When we get to the luxurious penthouse suite, nothing else matters. It’s just my super sexy husband, me, a massive bed, and an indoor Jacuzzi tub. We are ready to have a honeymoon that lasts for months, and it will begin in bed.
Night is falling, and Aiden is waiting like a drug addict for me to arrive.
We’d both agreed to stop having sex about a month before the wedding because we want our first night together as husband and wife to feel as close to the first time as possible. I know that many other people in the building are going to soon be fully aware of what is going on in our suite.
I wear special lingerie that I picked out just for this night. My bra is transparent enough to reveal what it holds inside, and my panties are tight and have strategically placed slits all over the fabric. There is one lengthy slit right in the center that I want him to explore and widen.
We take our time at first, starting off slowly and sensually. I lay on top of him, pressing my naughty undergarments up against him so he can feel my entire body as I kiss and make out with him. We start on the bed, kissing and touching each other all over. Our hands travel and linger, but they never stay in one place for long. We aren’t tearing each other apart. We are savoring every breathtaking moment.
Next, we strip off each other’s soaked undergarments. He can feel my pussy dripping for him, and I can feel his throbbing cock beginning to spit pre-come on my hands. When we are finally completely naked, we simply admire each other, touching and kissing all over like we are afraid one of us might disappear. I’ve missed his giant dick, and I fondle it happily.
“Oh my god, you’re even bigger than I remember,” I moan.
He grins.
“I know sweetheart. You make me want you so bad, I swear I’ve grown.”
We happily begin servicing each other with our mouths. I suck on his cock like it contains the elixir of
life. It has been so long since I’ve felt his warm tongue going down on me, and it has been many months since I gagged on Aiden’s cock and drunk his man seed. We feed each other almost immediately, as my pussy secrets into his mouth and his semen creams into mine.
Then, he takes me over to the Jacuzzi and turns the jets on as high as they will go. We sit in it together, simmering and boiling in the spectacular tub. I sit in his lap, continuing to kiss and touch him while we cook and steam.
We have sex in the Jacuzzi, too. I ride him against the tub wall, grinding hard against him, sliding my clit up and down his massive shaft, allowing me to achieve my first underwater orgasm. It’s bizarre, but the sensation afterward is extraordinary, like I’m weightless.
Next, we get out of the tub, and he pushes me against the bathroom wall, grabbing my ass and bending me over so that he can fuck me from behind. I half-expect him to try and fuck me in my ass. I’m half-wanting him to, despite the massive pain that I know will come with it. After all, my husband’s insanely huge, and I’m not sure my tiny pucker can handle it.
We decide to put anal sex on our ‘Honeymoon To-Do List,’ and he, instead, enters my trembling cunt again and fucks me nice and hard. I take him like a good girl, moaning his name.
When he is close, he begins to rub my clit from behind with his right hand while his left keeps giving my ass a smack. All it takes is the feeling of my husband’s fingers right there to make me melt for him entirely.
After we come together in the bathroom, we dry off and go back to bed. We spend the rest of our night in bed together, wearing our bodies out beyond what I ever could have imagined. Our rhythm is always on, and for the majority of our lovemaking, we manage to withhold ecstasy long enough so that we can finish together.
Only lit candles provide light for us in the late hours of the night. We lie tangled up with each other, bodies intertwined and covers and blankets wrapped around us like vines. We are practically two human pretzels.
“I love you, Mrs. Marx,” Aiden says to me, kissing my neck tenderly.
“I love you too, hubby,” I say, leaning over to kiss his glistening chest.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he says. “I’ve always wanted to go to Greece.”
“I can’t believe you’re a successful billionaire, and you’ve never been to Paris!” I say. “How the heck does that even happen?”
“You don’t plan many business trips to France,” he answers. “I’m glad my first time is with my wife!”
“What’s next for us after the honeymoon?” I ask.
“Anything in the world, baby,” he replies. “Our future is a great big blank canvas that’s waiting for us to fill it in. What do you think we should do, Mrs. Marx?”
“I want to open a business together,” I reply. “I don’t know what we’ll sell. I promise whatever I owe for startup costs, I’ll pay you back.”
“You’re my wife now, angel,” says Aiden. “What’s mine is yours. If you want to start a company, all you have to do is ask.”
“We could literally do anything.”
“You could open and run your own PR agency,” he suggests. “You’re better than your boss and his boss. You’re a fucking superhero at the PR game.”
“I think if it’s okay with you, I want to retire from the PR game,” I say. “I know I’ve been talking about it for weeks, but I think I want to do it. I love working for Tech Wreck, and I love that I’ve been representing so many people in so little time. It’s been a rush, but now I want more.”
“We can do anything you’d like,” he says again. “I don’t care what it is, as long as I’m with my beautiful bride.”
“You’ll always have your blushing bride at your side,” I promise. “Always and forever.”
The End
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The Mountain Man’s Secret Baby
By S.C. Adams
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About This Book
The mountain man gave me a baby.
I’m a curvy girl, but I through sheer luck and hard work, I nabbed prestigious modeling contract.
I never thought I’d come this far.
The world isn’t that welcoming to women my size, but I like to flaunt my assets and pose for the camera.
While on a job, I meet him.
He’s a huge, growly mountain man.
He’s come down from the slopes to ruin my shoot.
But this is the opportunity of a lifetime!
I’m not going to let him take over.
Our fighting turns into playfighting which turns into something steamy.
But then the mountain man disappears into the woods.
How do I find him to tell him I’m pregnant?
As always, there is no cheating, no cliffhangers, and always an HEA.
20
Mason
I’m cruising down the 101, headed for Los Angeles and its beautiful beaches. I’m occasionally hitting stubborn patches of traffic, but I expected worse coming into L.A. on a Friday afternoon. There’s no point in stressing or worrying because I enjoy driving. Also, I’m also not in a major hurry, even though I know I’m going to be late.
I’m heading to my best friend Luke’s beach house in Venice. It isn’t technically his, since his parents own it, but they let him live in it. Luke likes to throw a lot of parties at the beach house, and he invites me over every time he has one. I try to make it to one or two a month, but it’s time consuming and costly to make the trek as frequently as Luke wants.
I live in Wrightwood, a mountain town about an hour and a half from L.A. when traffic is good. I was born in L.A. and lived there for most of my life, but for a multitude of reasons, I decided I didn’t want to be there anymore. I generally only come back to the city because I like picking up girls and partying—rarely are there any parties, let alone girls, up in Wrightwood. The town is quiet, and most people keep to themselves, which is a sharp contrast to what I’m used to.
The only other person in L.A. that I care about, other than Luke, is my dad. Unfortunately, I haven’t spoken to my dad or seen him since I moved. He isn’t happy with where I chose to live; he wants me to live close to him, despite us barely speaking to each other. I eventually don’t want anything to do with him.
While I love him, I have to keep some distance because of the woman he is married to. He and my mom divorced when I was a teenager, and he sank to an unimaginable low and married an evil, sick woman named Sarah. I never got along with her, and so, over time, I stopped getting along with my dad. It also doesn’t help that Sarah has a frustrating backup in the form of my younger stepsister, Kylie, who is becoming more like her mom every day and has a voice twice as loud. She and I don’t talk, either.
Sarah is a manipulative user, and she got her claws into my dad right as the divorce was finalizing, so he was fresh and vulnerable. My dad is somewhat known in southern California. He owns and runs Dunn Films, his film production company in Los Angeles that is becoming bigger every year. He has money even after the divorce, and he had been happily helping me through college, assuming that I would help him run Dunn Films. The film industry is appealing to me, but working near Sarah every day for the next several years seems like a hellish nightmare.
I am also a more private person than my dad or stepmom. I could live in Wrightwood, where the population is six thousand people and there are more mountains than roads. My dad wouldn’t go into the mountains even if one of his movies is shooting there. But I like the quiet, and I enjoy the laidback pace of my small town. My dad and stepmom think it’s strange and ridiculous to want to make the move I sought. Luckily, I don’t need their approval, and I’m not going to live off my dad’s money.
I started and operate my own delivery service: Dunn Deliveries. Although a lot of the towns in the mountains have businesses and restaurants, many people that live there don’t like making the long drive from their
homes into the city. People in the area tried suggesting to companies that they offer delivery, but when they didn’t come through, I started my own service that picks up from any business in Wrightwood or two other nearby towns and delivers anywhere in the mountains. I employ only three other drivers, so it’s a small operation, but it’s a profitable one.
I am lucky that my business took off because I never have to ask my dad for money. He would write me occasionally, offering me a spot with him at the production company. He hasn’t written to me in over a year—after a heated phone call on which I called my stepmom and him vain, self-obsessed, and oblivious. I went on and said that they only cared about their image and making money.
I felt bad saying it to him, but it’s the truth—at least to me. Once I saw it, realizing how shallow they are, I began planning my move. I don’t want to live that way. I still enjoy being on a film or TV set, but my experiences with my dad have soured the taste I once had for entertainment.
However, the taste always gets a bit sweeter whenever I physically return to L.A. for a visit to see Luke. I miss a lot of the sights and places I used to go to all the time. I miss putting on my sunglasses and getting some sun. I love the general overcast that came with mountainous terrain, but I miss the warmth of L.A. after I’ve been away from it long enough.
L.A. traffic holds me up for an additional hour, but I make it to the Bishop beach house eventually. There are many cars parked along the street, yet the house is empty of people. I can see only one man walking around, eating chips off a paper plate.
I look at my phone, realizing that I missed a text from Luke.
“We’re on the beach! Volleyball net, guys vs. girls HURRY!”