Endure (Evolve #4)

by S. E. Hall

  And now that I know he’s good, well, better at least, and I too have gotten my breather, I welcome the zing that erupts through me whenever he’s near.

  “Quite the detour you took here, baby. Any particular reason for the needed privacy?”

  “I didn’t figure you’d mind.” I turn my head to kiss the corner of his mouth and when he demands more and takes mine fully, no need to beg entrance, I respond in full submission and a heady whimper.

  Our tongues tangle in synchrony, weaving together in the solace and security we both need to be reassured of.

  When we’re both sated and feeling reconnected, and with the taste of him still on my tongue, I look back out to the water and sigh. “Do you remember when we were their age? Our wedding?” I whisper; unsure myself if it’s melancholy or nostalgia contained therein.

  “Of course I do, every second, every detail.” His confident words heated on my skin.

  “Oh yeah? Wanna make a wager that I can stump you?”

  “Try me, baby.” He laughs. “What’s the bet?”

  Never let me loose in a casino, I have a problem with betting. The struggle is indeed real.

  “If I win, you have to spend some one on one time with Judd while we’re here. Just you and him; friendly round of golf, lunch, whatever.”

  “And if I win?” He hums, skimming the tip of his tongue along the crevice where my neck and shoulder join, slinking the thin strap of my dress down to lick behind its path.

  “What do you want?” I purr, head back and eyes closed, unconcerned with whatever the answer.

  He moves my hair aside now and devours his way down my neck, leaving a trail of moist warmth in his wake. “I want to fuck you in the sea tonight.” He grunts as I feel him harden against my ass; our spark as hot and live as ever.

  “Deal,” I agree readily, winner either way. I ask a hard one right out the gate. “When did I finally agree to marry you?”

  “The sixteenth time I proposed, on the pier in Emerald Isle. We’d just finished dinner, you had the sautéed bay scallops and were wearing the red dress I gave you that night. You said, ‘I told you when I accomplished all the goals I had to do alone, I’d marry you. I’ve graduated and got the coaching job I wanted, so Caveman, tonight, my answer is yes!’ Then I slid the ring on your trembling finger and carried you back to our condo. Your dress unzipped down the side, no bra, and I told you to leave the black garters on.” He licks behind my ear as he groans out the story, pulling me tighter against him, rigid length taunting my ass ever more so. “I let your hair down, pulled those little black panties to the side and took you from behind, bent over the dresser. Sound about right?” He torments, tugging lightly on my earlobe with his teeth, digging his fingertips into my hips.

  “Uh huh.” I gulp, my focus divided between the building desire scorching through me and breathing. “Our wedding, what—” I begin, but he cuts in.

  “Your something new were the earrings your parents bought you. Old, your “D” necklace. Borrowed, Whitley’s diamond hair pin. And blue,” he snarls, but a small laugh sneaks its way in, “was a picture Sawyer drew of his balls since Em was ovulating, putting him out of commission for a while. Under your dress.” I feel his thin shiver, “was all white lace. And you took it off, slowly, by yourself so I wouldn’t rip it. Which I would have. Then you undressed me, lay down on your back in the bed and held out your arms. You said, ‘I want my husband to love me, soft and slow.’ I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than in that moment. The anticipation in your eyes, the tiny quiver on your lips. Like you could already feel how different it would be, what it would mean.”

  He remembers everything about me and it’s all I can do to keep my tears at bay, hearing how each detail I hold precious truly meant as much to him. Thank God Whitley loves planning weddings, she’d made it the perfect day. But no time to reminisce and get all teary-eyed now, I do have a bet to win here, so let’s see if he pays attention to anything else in the room. “Go down my maid of honor and bridesmaid line, in order.” I challenge with a confident air.

  “Bennett was your maid of honor, then Whitley, Emmett, Hayden and Samantha.” My mouth agape in utter shock, he laughs, sliding his hands up to cup my breasts. “Baby, you’re riding in those waves tonight. Give it up,” he growls.

  “One more.” I grasp for victory, even though…. I no longer want to win. “Our honeymoon, when the alarm we didn’t set went off, remember?” I snicker. Unable to remember ever being more pissed off, exhausted from the best day of my life and wanting nothing more than to bask in our entwined bodies, lying in bed as husband and wife for as long as possible, an alarm we didn’t even set had startled us awake. “What song came blaring out?”

  “I’d Rather Go Blind,” he boasts.

  “You know how many times that song’s been remade? Please be more specific.” I force my lips in a serious, straight line. Gotta make him work for the win.

  “Sydney Youngblood version. I know, you’re a Side B girl, baby. I’ve learned to pay close attention.”

  “Fine, you win.” I pout and turn to straddle him, running my fingers through his dark hair, touching our noses together. “Think you can navigate your way around the important things in only the moonlight?”

  “Sure of it, baby.” He winks. “Think you can hold on tight and take all I give ya?”

  I nod just before he’s kissing me with all the heat and exploration of the first time.

  When I pull back to catch my breath, he holds my gaze. Mirth shining at me from his chocolate brown eyes. “Let’s get this dinner over with, then tonight, you’re mine. We gotta christen the Caribbean Sea.”

  “And?”

  “And maybe, if he doesn’t piss me off, I’ll invite Judd to some golf tomorrow.”

  My Dane… even when I lose, I win.

  We really should’ve opened this meal with a prayer. And stopped every few minutes to say another one, just for good measure. Cause Lord knows—no pun intended—divine intervention is our only hope at this point.

  Too many people at one table only increases the odds of at least one show-down, and now that Evan’s parents and Blaze finally flew in and have joined us, our dinner party is in the double-digits. Bet on a showdown for sure.

  “I can’t decide where to look.” I duck my head to Dane’s ear and whisper.

  “We’re gonna have to split it up.” He laughs hollowly, wired by the same palpable tension I feel simmering to a boil around us. “I’m thinking, you keep an eye on Sawyer, and I’ll watch Ryder. Lil’ too smiley at our Brynn, fucker.”

  “Sawyer? No, I always have to watch him! That’s a full-time job, I won’t have time to focus on Zach and Bennett.”

  This is the first appearance the two of them have made all day. TLC, my ass. Her foot isn’t that hurt.

  My poor husband, he just stares at me much like I’d guess it’d look if I were to announce I’m pregnant again, dumbfounded. He has no idea all the irons at play in tonight’s fire.

  “So, Blaze.” Oh, shit, Sawyer’s talking! I flip my head that direction, hoping I can stop the train before it wrecks. “What the hell kinda name is that anyway? Your parents actually chose that, or is it just some ‘badass shit you go by?’” Sawyer sneers as he uses air quotes.

  “Dad!”

  “Sawyer!”

  Presley and Emmett both chastise him as Bennett snickers.

  But Blaze, apparently a friend of the kids’, whom I’ve never met, which is odd if he’s important enough to some or all of them to be a part of the wedding party, just leans back in his chair and chuckles in a deep, self-assured timbre. Sawyer zeroing in on him was inevitable; gotta be like looking in a mirror. The kid is huge, all muscle, covered in tattoos, dark hair close-cropped to his scalp and cocky ego emitting off him in an unavoidable cloud.

  “What it says on my birth certificate,” Blaze responds, left side of his mouth tipped in arrogance.

  “Ah, so your parents must’ve borrowed the ‘what not to
name your kid’ book from Ride Her’s parents,” Sawyer zings back.

  Thank God the four grandparents are seated together at the end of the table, and I’m praying, can’t hear the shitshow unfolding.

  “Ryder’s a great name, and no one even thinks to pronounce it that way.”

  Brynn, yes, Brynn Kendrick, actually corrects her uncle, albeit in a quiet, hesitant voice and while staring down at the table, but still… completely out of character for her.

  I glance at Dane, wide-eyed and as surprised as I am at our baby’s less than bursting outburst. And then I hear the growl, building in intensity and volume as it rises all the way from his toes to his chest and follow where his eyes have strayed.

  To Ryder, smiling across the table at Brynn like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

  Can’t argue with him there.

  “Fine, Ryder, you’re off the hook. Can’t piss off my Brynny.” Sawyer grins at her lovingly, then flashes a smug version of the same at Dane. “So then Blaze, all you. Who the hell are you and why are you here? And late.”

  “I need more bread. Who has any left in their basket?” Bennett cuts in out of nowhere, madly searching every basket on the table.

  “H-here.” Emmett passes one to her, a smile of…gratitude, I think, on her face.

  “Didn’t work, ladies.” Sawyer’s sneer aimed at the kid now bares his teeth. “Asked you a question, Blaze.”

  I jam my knee into Dane’s, the glass and silverware on the tabletop clattering. “Do. Something.” I grunt out the side of my mouth.

  He quickly stands, clinking his knife against his goblet. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

  Everyone falls silent, impending doom forgotten at least for now, and focus on Dane. I notice a little color returns to poor Emmett’s face, while she rubs Presley’s shoulder, and Whitley no longer appears seconds from tears. My son, however, looks disappointed, ready to watch more fireworks, for which I will ream him later.

  Dane clears his throat and I peer back and up at him. So dapper in his black suit, commanding authority in the sexiest ways. My small sigh must find sound because he tips his head down to me and winks before continuing.

  “I’d like to thank each of you for being here, to join us parents and grandparents, as we watch two wonderful young people we all love begin the blessed journey of loving each other for the rest of their lives. My beautiful Skylar, my first-born child, who I never imagined would ever be able to find a man worthy of her.” He takes a deep breath, an almost indecipherable shake of his head, “has done just that. Truth be told, it happened a long time ago, it just took me longer than her to figure it out. There was this one little boy, who just wouldn’t go away. Every time I turned around, there he was, right beside his ‘Sky Sky.’”

  We all laugh at the memory, that sweet little brown-haired angel, in his cowboy boots and hat, always right behind her, calling her “my Sky Sky.”

  “I think I knew I’d lost the battle the day my frilly princess, decked out all in pink and plastic high-heels, begged me to take her to buy a fishing pole and worms. I held out hope it’d only be the one trip, she’d have a miserable time, run home and crawl on my lap and stay there forever. But that didn’t happen. And then, a day I’ll never forget did. That one afternoon a beat-up pickup truck stopped in my driveway, and a young man all too familiar walked up to my door. Only this time, he didn’t call me ‘Uncle Dane,’ nor did he ask me if JT was home. No, this time he shook my hand and called me ‘Mr. Kendrick, sir.’ And he asked if he could date my daughter.”

  I dab under my eyes with my napkin, and catch every other woman at the table doing the same. Except Skylar. Skylar’s smiling from ear to ear, leaning against him, one arm up for her hand to curl back and cup his cheek.

  “Well.” Dane chuckles, “since Skylar had already heard him and came flying through the door squealing, I had to say yes. But,” he makes direct eye contact with the young man, “I would’ve said yes anyway.”

  “Oh, Daddy.” Skylar now sniffles, her words a mere wisp, as her fiancé draws her closer against his side.

  “Judd Allen,” Dane states, and somehow, conveys his veiled directive since Judd lays a soft kiss on Skylar’s head and stands as though asked to. “I love you son. Loved you since the day you were born, to two of the finest people I know, who love my daughter just as Laney and I do you. I’ve watched you adore my princess since the day you could both walk and talk, effectively communicate and all.”

  Another wave of hushed laughter from all.

  “I couldn’t be more pleased that it’s you, the only one who can put my favorite of her smiles on her face. But just remember boy.” He lifts one brow, “I loved her first. Fiercely, unconditionally, and without end. At any cost. I expect nothing less from the man who will love her last.”

  That’s it, I lose it, blubbering into an even bigger mess than Whitley.

  Dane’s eyes glisten a bit and his final words come out choked as he raises his glass. “To Judd and Skylar.”

  “To Judd and Skylar,” we all mimic and toast.

  My daughter is marrying Evan’s son.

  That’s… what’s even bigger than full-circle?

  More Than Words

  After we’d finished dinner, Evan and both grandfathers also rising to give a toast of their own, and too many hugs goodnight to count, I’d made sure that all my children had plans of their own. That didn’t include a late night swim at sea. Or being anywhere near the water for that matter. Once I had that confirmed, I proceeded to drag my wife in that exact direction.

  “Dane, don’t we need our suits?” Laney giggles, trying to navigate the walk in the dark, taking way too long in doing so for my liking.

  “Nope.” I stop and turn, hooking her behind the knees and throwing her over my shoulder. I’ve been thinking about cashing in on our bet all evening, my dick in a perpetual state of painful hardness under the table the entire meal.

  “Oh, my God, you’re making a scene. We’re gonna get caught and arrested. Won’t that make a lovely wedding memory for the kids.” She tries to sound appalled, but the laughter dancing behind her words betrays her. Supposedly, you’re expected to start acting “older” at some point in life, but Laney refuses, and this is one thing I happily follow her lead on.

  I will never grow tired of Laney’s youthful spirit, the fact that she jams her music louder than our kids and actually thinks she raps better than… whoever the hell she listens to. And I will never stop fucking her, each and every chance I get it, any and everywhere, like a randy teenager.

  “Bet’s a bet, baby.” I set her on her feet when we reach the water, purposely choosing a secluded spot behind a large boulder, to shelter us from view. “You lost, now strip for me.”

  “D-Dane.” She looks around, checking for any possible spectators.

  As if I’d ever let anyone see my wife naked.

  “Naked, now.” I wink. “Gimme a show, sexy.”

  Too obstinate to break eye contact, she boldly holds my blue, desirous pair captive with her own honey brown set as she opens her shirt, one button at a time. My tongue glides across my bottom lip, impatient for a taste of the sweet flesh she’s revealing. And finally, there it is, my North Star, the single freckle in the middle of her chest that I’ve loved since the first time I saw it. If I can see it, I always know I’m in the right place, or at least headed that direction.

  She shrugs her shirt off her shoulders and stands waiting, yearning for my next explicit instruction, the fire in her eyes unmistakable.

  “Now the bra.” I toe off my shoes and socks blindly, not daring to interrupt my view.

  She reaches around her back and undoes the clasp then holds the loose fabric in place with both hands, just begging me to seize control. Which I’m inclined to do more often than not, but tonight, tonight I want to be provoked and lured into taking her.

  I slant my head and give her a suggestive grin, letting her know the next move will be hers, and I w
ill wait for it.

  Biting the corner of her lip, she lets the silk fall, arms then dropping to her sides. I harden even more from the sight, high firm globes topped with pebbled pink tips, bouncing for me with her labored breaths. My mouth literally waters to suck one in and play with it, but still, I pace myself.

  “Love your tits, gorgeous girl.” I reach down and flick open the button on my pants then unzip them, giving my rock hardness some breathing room. “Love that ass of yours more though, so show me. Keep going.”

  She slowly starts to work on her own pants as I do the same with my shirt, my chest bared by the time that she stands before me in only a meager piece of blue lace. Down to just my boxer briefs, I pull myself out, tugging up and down my cock with a tight grasp.

  “Come here.” I groan. Watching my hand in fascination, she walks toward me.” You do it for me. Stroke it, baby.”

  When her tiny but firm grip wraps around me and squeezes before starting to glide along my steel length, I grab both sides of her flimsy panties, where the lace sits on her curvy hips, and with one twist then yank, have them ripped off her body. Without having to be told, she releases me and drops to her knees, pushing my boxer briefs all the way down my legs where I step out of them.

  My dick bobs toward her mouth, right there and begging to be filled. “Take me in your mouth. Suck me, Laney.” She bends her head forward and wraps her lips around the head, running her tongue under the ridge there. “Fuck.” I groan. “Good girl, just like that.”

  My woman can suck a mean cock. I taught her that. But she’s too good, and I have bigger plans, so I stop her, pulling gently on her hair.

  I’m done with the thrill of foreplay, ready to fill more than her mouth. I reach one hand down for her to take, helping her to her feet and leading us to the water.

  It’s nice and warm, complete darkness but for the moonlight. I grab under her ass and seamlessly, my woman curls her arms and legs around me.

  I swim us over to the long pier that stretches out into the water and place a hand on her head, careful with her as I guide us underneath it. I push her back against one of the wide, wooden base poles and warn her. “Hold on,” I hiss with fading control, needing to be buried in her more than I need to breathe.