by Wild, Nikki
“So… are you taking me home?” I asked.
“No… I was gonna drop you off here… make you hitch hike back to the city.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Gravel crunched beneath the tires. The car swung into the road and aimed back toward the direction from where we came. She buzzed the driver’s side window all the way down. Cold Midwestern air blew her hair in a tornado around her face. Her eyes lit up like diamonds. If we didn’t have headlights, they’d surely be bright enough to lead the way.
“Hey, Troy?” she asked. Her voice was so soft that I had to strain to hear it above the whipping wind.
“Yeah?”
“Are you serious about us?”
She was calm, but I wondered how big the storm was that brewed beneath the surface. I was sure now that I knew her. At least, a little bit. I’d have to save the ‘rich girl’ taunts and the jabs about her being privileged for the bedroom—only when I wanted to get her blood boiling—because she wasn’t either of those things.
“What do you mean? We talked about this already.”
She gave a shy nod and pressed down on the gas pedal. The car drifted into the passing lane and went around an old pickup like it was standing still. “I know,” she said. “It’s just… can I trust you?”
“That’s up for you to decided. But I’m here, and what you see is what you get.”
“I need to make sure we’re looking for the same things.”
“I get it,” I told her. I put a hand on her thigh and squeezed. “But you don’t have to think about that. I meant what I said. You’re not getting away from me.”
Riley ran her fingers down the bridge of her nose and settled back into her seat. She was trying to hide the relief that crossed her face, but I saw it. “Is that a promise?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”
Riley
6 Months Later
“Are we really doing this?”
Troy looked around at the crowd of our drunken friends. “I think we just did.”
“By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Our impromptu minister—and my boss at the design company—tipped his hat to us and stepped out of the scene.
There were hoots and hollers and cheers and swears. Some people laughed, and the office secretary shed a tear.
“You may now kiss the bride.” They launched into another round of laughing and clapping as Troy dipped me and planted a loving kiss on my lips right in the middle of Times Square. He tasted like tequila and chaos.
It all started about six hours ago in a bar on the Lower East Side. What began as a belated welcome party for Troy and I quickly devolved into a shot drinking contest between the two of us and a couple of the senior designers. When the others joined in, things kind of got out of hand.
I finally figured out what I wanted to do with my life. Fashion had always interested me, but I never knew how to get started in the industry. When an internship opened up with J. Harvin, I was quick to submit my application. Against all odds, as well as my own expectations, I got it.
Troy was in negotiations with the top MMA organization in the country. With his home gym’s blessing, he moved with me to New York so he could start training with one of the most respected teams around. All in all, we were happy as could be and falling more and more in love every day.
Anyway, after too many shots, Troy and I started to “trash talk” each other about who was more committed to the relationship. It was becoming a favorite past time of ours when we got drunk.
Well, one thing led to another and we landed on the topic of marriage. Without a sober soul around, there was no one to put a damper on the inevitable.
My boss, Paul, yelled out that he was ordained and had the legal authority to perform a marriage. Neither Troy, nor I, blinked. Once that was established, there was no slowing the train—so to speak.
Someone dug up an online marriage license, and then, it was off to the races. We even got a dress and designated members of our party as bridesmaids and groomsmen. Since we didn’t have rings, I gave him the bracelet I had on as a gift, and he gave me the chain he always wore around his neck.
After the “I dos” were said, Troy scooped my up and carried me to a waiting car for our ceremonial ride back to the apartment. I couldn’t have come up with a better wedding if I’d been given a thousand years to think of one.
My new husband hustled me across the lobby and into the waiting elevator. A young guy tried to step on with us, but when he saw the look Troy gave him, he wisely stepped back and decided to wait for the next one.
The doors hadn’t even closed before he jumped me. All night long he’d begged to get out of that tie and this was going to be his opportunity. The metal box lurched and we were sent upward toward our fifteenth-floor apartment. A few seconds into the ride, Troy reached out and punched the emergency stop button. Gears and pulleys ground to a halt and then everything was still.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to do it in an elevator?”
“Uh… no! I’ve never even thought about it.”
“You better start thinking like me,” he said, with a grin.
“You’re kidding me, right? We’re just a few floors from our front door and the first time we have sex as newlyweds is going to be right here? C’mon, I bet our bed’s so warm.”
“Can’t wait that long,” he said. “You shouldn’t have looked at me that way when you said ‘I do.’”
“I-” but there was no use in continuing. It was decided already. “You’re gonna get me in trouble one day.”
“I hope so.”
Troy stepped forward and met me with a kiss. His nose brushed lightly against mine. A warm shiver rolled through me.
“That dress is beautiful,” he teased.
“Thanks,” I giggled. “It’s a Vera Wang.” Of course, it wasn’t. It was the first white garment we were able to come up with. Someone from our “bridal party” snagged it from an all-night drug store for twelve bucks while we were signing the paperwork.
Be it a brand-new Vera Wang, or a CVS special, it still came off the same way, and that’s all Troy cared about. He pulled it gently past my shoulders and over the points of my breasts, taking care not to tear it.
“Whatever it is,” he said, “it will look better pooled around your ankles.” He tugged it off my hips and let it fall the rest of the way.
“Hmm, always the smooth talker,” I said.
He cocked his head to the side and gave me a crooked smile. “I’d rather not talk at all.”
And that was the truth.
Troy caught me at both wrists and directed my hands to the band of my underwear. I hesitated and looked toward the ceiling. “What about the cameras?”
“This building is a hundred years old. Trust me, there’re no cameras.”
“You’re sure?”
He rolled his eyes in that playful way that he had and hooked both of his thumbs inside the band. “Do I have to do it?”
I just shook my head and kept going. As I slowly slid them down, he wrapped one arm behind me, and with delicate fingers, sprung the clasp of my bra. They hit the floor simultaneously. When I stepped out of my heels, I was naked to the world.
“Mmm,” he breathed heavily from deep in his chest. “Better every time.”
When I leaned in to meet his lips, he dodged me and planted a kiss on my forehead. Then, he slowly made his way down my body. First, he kissed at the hollow behind my jaw, stopping only briefly to whisper something that tickled my ear.
From there, he went to my shoulder, and then the side of my breast. When he touched my hip bone, I nearly turned into a puddle. But, when he ended at the back of my knee and bit down on the tender skin, a shock went through my like electricity.
I grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged him back up a little too hard. Maybe his strong touch in an area that so rarely felt anythi
ng caused a short circuit. He looked me over with a mixture of surprise and perseverance, but he took it in stride.
Troy broke away from me and coolly backed up to the opposite corner of the box. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he pulled his tie loose from its knot. He left it draped over his shoulders like a boa.
“You’re gonna strip for me?” I asked.
“Call it what you wanna call it,” he said, “but I’m not taking my eyes off you.”
The buttons popped free of his dress shirt one by one. I’d fought so hard for him to wear something other than a polo before we left the house, and now I wanted it off him even more than he did.
He didn’t break his promise, either. Troy’s dark eyes remained on mine while each tantalizing inch of skin was revealed. Abdominal muscles climbed a staggered ladder up to his hard chest. When he reached his collar, he freed the last button and rolled his shoulders out of the shirt in one motion.
The leather belt he wore tore free of the loops like a whip. His slacks dropped and he kicked out of them, along with his shined shoes and thin socks.
He was as hard as oak and pointed right at me. The sight of him was too much to deny. I practically ran across the small chasm between us to get to his embrace. He caught me in a hug and pressed his mouth over mine.
His cock wagged at me. I jumped in the air and wrapped my legs around him. He walked me back to the wall and reached between us. I turned my body to help him as he lined himself up with my slickened canal.
He plunged deep on the first thrust. My body worked to take him. “Oh…God,” I moaned.
His strong neck held my weight as I leaned back and arched into him. He sent a series of powerful jolts through me that made my head spin.
In the mirror across from me, I could see his muscled ass drive forward to help deliver his package. Much like the rest of him, it was made for work. The view, along with the way he so insistently crushed his whole body between my legs, put me on the verge of an orgasm.
“Troy, I’m gonna come.”
He fired his hips even harder and his cock twitched. I went over the edge and fell into a sea of sensations. It washed through me like a heavy, warm, rain.
“Ohhh,” I cried.
Harsh breaths flowed from the corners of his mouth as he pinned me to the wall and pumped.
“Troy, don’t stop!”
There was a burst like lighting in my middle that rolled through my entire body. Wave after wave crashed down until I was breathless.
Troy hugged me around the shoulders as his lower half punched forward. He came inside me with strong spurts that filled me in a way I’d craved since I met him.
My hair tangled into his as we blew hot air on each other’s necks. He was spent, and so was I. We both seemed to float back to reality around the same time. He leaned his head against the wall by my ear. I could feel the last bits of pleasure run through him as he slid out of me.
Troy released the emergency stop and we shared a look like we’d just gotten away with something. I hoped I’d get to have that moment with him many more times over the rest of our lives.
I scrambled for my clothes and tossed him his. The elevator “dinged” and the doors slid open on creaky wheels. The silence that flooded in from the open hallway was deafening.
Troy poked his head out and looked both ways. I wore my dress draped around me like a towel.
He leaned back inside, and with that easy smile on his face, held his arm out in front of him like he was giving me permission to walk in to our new life together. “After you, Mrs. Eason.”
Thank you for reading, and thank you all for making 2016 the best year of my life. I can’t wait to show you EVERYTHING I’ve been working on next year, and I’m sure you’re all going to love it!
-Nikki
PS: Meg Jackson also wants to share her utmost appreciation for everyone who read this book. You’ve helped make her dreams come true, and I can’t tell you what a difference you’ve made in both of our lives.