by Hazel Grace
Her forehead presses into mine, our breathing mingling together. “I’m sorry too. I just wanted to look after you and your family. I could never pull the trigger with you in front of it just like you wouldn’t be able to do it with me.”
“I know.” I kiss her again. “Now, you have another problem, you’re marrying me.”
“I won’t be alive by then if you don’t finish me off.” I smile between us. “Not funny.”
“I’m sorry. I just love how greedy you get for my cock.” She lets out a frustrated growl, still pending her own release. “Alright, baby, you ready?”
She nods, still riding my cock, skin still connected with mine, and I’m at a disadvantage in the position I’m in, so we’re going to try something new.
“Can you feel how perfectly we fit together?” She bobs her head. “How fucking thick I feel inside you?” Stormi moans before she nods again. “This dick is all yours, baby. You can do whatever you want to it whenever you want. And when you want to just get fucked without doing anything other than feel, I’ll be right here to do it for you. You want me to taste that pussy all you have to do is spread those legs, and I’ll get on my knees to lick you dry.”
“Marty...” Her voice is rickety, on edge with just thinking about it. I’m about to break again too, but just the simple thought of Stormi always being at my side. Always there to kiss and hold.
She’s mine, and I’m hers.
There isn’t anything else I need.
“Yeah?” I press.
“I’m...so close.” On cue, her body rattles with pleasure as I drive myself quicker inside her body.
“Mhm,” I hum off a sharp inhale. “Fucking ready to break apart around me? I like the sound of you milking my cock and wanting it so badly that you just hopped right on it.”
“Yes...it’s mine.”
“And you’re mine.” She screams out, rattling the air as she continues to rock against me, getting every last bit of her orgasm out and off my cock.
It’s sexy, fucking beautiful, and my balls tighten painfully as I watch her.
Blues hit my hazels, and she perks a brow. “I’m waiting for my monster to claim me.”
“Not your knight in shining armor?”
“Hell no,” she scoffs. “They’re a dime a dozen, and I like the danger that encompasses the beast. They’re real. They are raw and unhindered. And this one—” She touches my chest. “—loves me. He’d die for me. He’d rip the world apart just to find me. He’d flip a truck.”
I close my eyes because that was by far one of the dumbest things I’ve done while being with her.
“And I expect you to do it again.” My eyes shoot open, studying her lazy expression. “And I also expect you to come again...please...fuck me.”
Hands on her hips, I don’t remember much else. Emric’s side comes out to play, and it’s fast, rough, and untamed. He wants a piece because he found her first, but I fell in love with her first.
Stormi’s voice comes through off broken exhales and taking it like she was born for me to fuck her.
My orgasm splits through me like an ax breaking me in half. The air is knocked from my lungs, I’m spent like a motherfucker, and Stormi’s sweet expression lingers on her face as I pant underneath her.
“What a way to be disciplined,” she jeers, leaning towards me. “I think I like being bad.”
“I’m rubbing off on you too much, sweetheart,” I quiver, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern.
“I like when you rub on me—” She places a chaste kiss to my lips. “—and if life is like this with you...sign me up.”
Smoothing down the satin-like material of the white dress Reagan bought me, I examine myself in the full-length mirror behind the door. The neckline plunges modestly down my tan chest, and the thin straps leave the dress open and airy for the hot summer temperature outside. The back is completely open for any breeze that might want to grace us with its presence, and the flowy fabric leaves plenty of space for my legs.
Except it’s white—at a BBQ.
One that Marty invited all of B723 to attend so I could meet them all. It’s like meeting another side of his family. People he’s always with and that know some of his quirks as I do, but it makes me nervous.
Being such a large part of his life, I want them to like me. Not having many friends or a family of my own, it’s important to me to be involved in Marty’s life and what he has.
If I can stop my heart from stampeding in my chest and me from sweating like a pig.
“You look beautiful,” Reagan coos softly from behind me, sitting on our bed. “I did a bomb ass job on your hair.
She did. My light blue locks, which are now more faded, are loosely curled and pulled back. The diamond studs complement the modest look I’m pulling off, and I denied the necklace she brought for me.
This was enough.
All I wanted to do was see Marty and stand at his side tonight.
“Ready to go eat and mingle?” Reagan asks, now at my side. I nod, letting her open the door and guide us outside to the backyard.
The moment she opens the backdoor of the kitchen, the mixture of voices fill the air mingled with music. Smoke rises in the air from the grill somewhere in the back, but it’s the decorations that get me to pause through the threshold.
A long table that could fit over a dozen people is covered in blue picnic tablecloths and white flowers. Lights hang carelessly from the house to rods that are sticking from the ground, making a not so perfect square along the backyard.
“I did it,” Reagan announces at my side. “I got bored.”
I let out a weak chuckle. “Wow, I guess so. It’s gorgeous.”
“Stormi!” Emmy’s voice sinks into our conversation, and I look over to see her floating over to us with her normal and broad smile. She’s in a pretty yellow sundress that goes to her mid-thigh and her blonde hair in a half ponytail. “I was wondering when you were going to come out here.”
“My fault,” Reagan voices. “I wanted to do her hair, and I got carried away. Hopefully, this next baby is a girl so I can leave her alone.”
“I didn’t mind,” I counter. “I’ve never been pampered before.”
“Don’t tell her that,” Emmy offers. “She lives yards away from your house.” She loops her arm in with mine. “I’m stealing her. I want her to meet Kyson.”
Reagan states that she’s going to go find her husband and demon child while I let Emmy take the wheel on where we’re going to go.
We stop at Mills and a man I’ve never seen before—Kyson I’m assuming—and Mills greets me with a smile.
“Damn, Cinderella,” he says with a cluck of his tongue. “I got to kiss you and everything.”
My blush is immediate, and so is my narrowed eyes as Emmy bristles next to me.
“Shut up, idiot,” she chides before motioning to the stranger with her hand. “Stormi, this is Kyson. Kyson, this is Marty’s better half.”
Kyson offers me his hand after putting his toothpick back into his mouth, quickly giving me a not so subtle look over.
I can’t help but do the same. He’s built like Mills, not as wide-shouldered as Marty but tall. His red locks are cut short along the sides and longer on the top. His facial hair is minimal, and he has kind golden eyes that nicely match the shade of his hair.
“We’ve kinda met before,” he conveys with a friendly and really cute smile—that’s his best feature. My brows furrow, but he continues for me, “I was—uh, the dude holding your head still when...Emric was…”
When Marty was waterboarding me the first night we met.
“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”
Right.
“I think you owe me a beer or something,” I answer, watching him nod once before shifting his weight uncomfortably.
“I’d say more than that,” he replies before raising his hand for me to shake. “I hope you can forgive me as easily as the dickhead you’re staying with.”
“Depends on the beer,” I deadpan, clasping my hand around his. I give him a weak grin. “Consider yourself off the hook.”
I can see the held inhale he was keeping leave his body. “You’re too good for him.”
“Told you,” Mills chimes in, giving me a wink. “Be careful though, you have to fight Emric, Reagan, and Emmy for just a second with her now.”
I peer over to look at Emmy, who’s already wearing a rosy smile.
She shrugs. “Guilty.”
I loop my arm back around hers, giving her a friendly nudge. She turned out to be a really good person during an odd circumstance, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
“Is this Stormi?” A female voice inquires behind us, getting Emmy to tense against me.
Peering over my shoulder, a drop-dead gorgeous woman strides in our direction. Her thick locks of red hair bounce with each step, her curvy hips wave seductively as she stares at me while she approaches.
Sporting a gold, sparkly dress that she wears as a second skin, she removes her black sunglasses to display piercing green eyes with long eyelashes and flawless olive complexion. Her lips are plump with a natural shade of pink lipstick, and when her arm extends at me, even I’m tongue-tied at her beauty.
When I don’t respond to acknowledge my own self, Mills offers, “The very one.”
She flicks her gaze down my frame. “Damn, you’re the one who tamed down the monster. Well done.”
Speaking of...
I haven’t seen him anywhere yet, and I want to ask Emmy but don’t want to come off as rude.
“Thanks,” I reply, finally returning her handshake and watching her settle between the men in front of me. She props her elbow on Kyson’s shoulder, plucking the toothpick out of his mouth.
“How long has it been?”
“Two months,” he replies then glances at me. “No smoking.”
“Wow—” I raise my brows. “—that’s great. Congratulations.”
“He’s been cranky as hell,” she offers, giving him back his wooden stick. “—he needs something else to preoccupy his time.”
“Let’s hope it’s not you,” Emmy cajoles, straightening her spine as though she’s waiting on Blue to attack. Tension fills the space between us, but Blue displays nothing but amusement written all over her pretty face.
“Did you claim him too, Emmy Lou?” Blue muses, flicking the end of Kyson’s toothpick with her index finger before removing her propped elbow off his body. “I think I might need a list, although that only leaves Mills left.”
“I’m not getting thrown into your catfights,” Mills voices, lifting up both of his palms. “All I know is that y’all fighting over Bishop is a waste of time.”
Bishop?
My interest is beyond peaked, sending my mind reeling to all the weeks that they were around me. Not one of them remotely triggers any sort of love interest or flirting from what I can remember.
“No one is fighting over anyone,” Emmy retorts, rearranging her blonde locks over her collarbone. “It’s bad to mix work and your personal life.”
“I had fun,” Blue adds in. “Sometimes you just need to pound the stress out.”
Emmy’s body constricts in my hold as a buzzing sensation reverberates through the top layer of my skin. I catch Kyson’s face, watching something behind me, and I follow it. The desire to know strongly forcing me to look.
In my wake is Marty dressed in fresh-looking khaki pants and a white, button-up shirt that is cuffed up below his forearms. It shows off his chest and the bulkiness of his shoulders. The light colors he’s in mocks the man who does dark things. It presents more of a formidable danger smoking off of him.
And, Lord, save me. I think I’m more consumed to his darkness than I thought I was.
The sun brightens the greens and browns in his eyes as he stops within a foot of me. He trimmed down the scruff along his jawline and chin, but Marty is still the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, that deep gravelly tone of his voice sending a rippling excited chill running to my nipples. “You look edible as fuck right now.”
My cheeks flame at his words, not only because I can feel them, but because we have an audience where all eyes are on us right now.
I coerce a smile, happy to see him but embarrassed when I’m not used to a public display of innuendos sent my way.
“Funny how we’re both dressed in white,” he continues, cocking his head to the side as I soak in his words.
“Right,” I deadpan off a mutter, watching him slowly lower himself onto one knee. My hand immediately goes to him, but he waves me off.
“I’m fine, baby, let me do this.”
“Do what?”
“Propose properly like a normal human being and because you deserve it.” Reaching behind him, he brings around a small wooden box that glints off the sun. “From the very first moment I saw you, I wanted you. You were my enemy, and I wanted to kill and fuck you at the same time. Something about you...I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was a mixture between torturing and kissing you until both of us couldn’t breathe anymore. Something was always off.”
“Besides the fact that she was innocent,” Mills immediately chimes in before everyone quietly scolds him, and hands start flying in his direction.
I cover my mouth to stifle back my chuckle and nerves as Marty surprisingly ignores him.
“I love you, more than anything in this world. I know for a fucking fact that you will make me the happiest man alive, and I don’t deserve you. But I will make it my mission every day to earn that right to be your husband. To spoil and love you, I promise to make you never regret marrying me. If you still will. So...Stormi, will you marry me and be stuck with me forever? And remember, that bunker is only 74 yards away from where you’re standing, so consider your options—”
“Shut up,” I chortle as I bob my head. “Yes, you dummy—” I step back and fall to my knees in front of him. “—of course, I’ll marry you.”
Wrapping my arms around his head, I pull him into a kiss. Our lips mesh and mold when I slip my tongue into his mouth and—shit I forgot our fan club next to us, cheering loudly during our moment.
I break the kiss as Marty opens the box, showing off a beautiful white gold ring with a light blue stone in the middle.
“It’s beautiful, Marty,” I state in awe. “It’s too much.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, no, I love it. But money—”
“You will get everything your little heart desires,” he appeals, reaching for my left hand and slipping the cool metal over the appropriate finger. “As long as it’s me doing the giving.”
“It’s perfect.” I peer up at him. “You’re perfect.”
His hand ascends to cup one side of my face. “Don’t say that so loud. I have a reputation to upkeep.”
My eyes roll, and he presses a sweet kiss to my lips before motioning with his hand. Mills approaches my side and helps me up while Kyson does the same for Marty, still not able to keep a lot of his weight on his right leg.
“We doing this thing or what?” Mills asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“Doing what?” I counter, my attention still locked on Marty, who nods at me.
“You got a white dress on, baby, and when have you seen me in white? Reagan did all of this in case you wanted to take me off the market today.”
My eyes widen. “Get married right now?”
“Yep.” Marty’s lips curl. “What do you say?”
I break from Mill’s hold and fight the urge to jump into Marty’s arms, prompting to just wrap them around his torso instead. “Yes. Right now.”
Marty lowers his head. “I was hoping you would say that.” He reduces his voices. “I was kinda hoping that I was going to be able to fuck my wife tonight.”
“Sounds like you found the one you wanted.”
“And didn’t even know it.” His mouth brushe
s mine. “Maybe we should go give it a trial run just in case you’re not into married sex.”
“We’d have to be married first.”
“Then let’s hurry the fuck up and do it.”
“I’m ready when you two are,” Mills announces, making Marty pull back and look over my shoulder.
“Ready for what?” Marty snaps. “You just have to sit down and shut up.” Wrapping my arm around Marty’s waist, I pivot around to see Mills with his arms crossed, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Oh, I’m officiating the damn thing,” he quips. “I’m getting you two hitched.”
“Oh, hell no,” Marty growls. “Emmy, aren’t you—”
“Nope,” she quickly asserts. “But I did get your guys’ marriage certificate. Mills is the only one here who can do the ceremony.”
“Did it online and everything,” Mills beams before tapping his forehead. “All fresh and up here.”
I smile at him because I honestly couldn’t think of anyone else that would be more perfect in this unconventional life I’m about to step into.
“You’re not marrying us,” Marty retorts. “I’d rather—”
“You cool with it, Cinderella?” Mills quirks a brow, not bothering to hide the still smug look on his face. “After all, I did force Marty to confess his jealousy and feelings for you.”
“I’m going to confess all the ways I’m going to kick your ass when—”
“Yes,” I interrupt, patting Marty’s chest with my free hand. “It’ll be great.” I peer up at Marty. “Wouldn’t it be?”
“Seriously?” Marty’s brows furrow. “You want him to—”
“Yes.”
“But he’s a fucking—”
“Genius,” I fill in. “It just fits.”
“God,” Mills recites. “Will you marry me too, Cin? No one has ever called me a genius before, and I love you anyway.”
“Marry us, idiot,” Marty promptly answers. “So, I can rightfully kill you when you keep hitting on my wife.”
Mills’s finger guns him. “Let’s do the damn thing then.”
The ceremony was short and sweet—exactly how I wanted it. No huge crowd or band, Emmy played music off her phone and a Bluetooth speaker. I watched everyone smile and felt the warmth of being included in something strong. A bond. People that love each other no matter the differences.