“Can you handle one more surprise?” I whisper.
Beth looks up at me and shakes her head. “You’ve managed to throw a wedding in 2.5 hours. Gotten me a ring, a dress, coerced my parents into driving out here-”
“To be fair, I’ve had the ring for quite some time now.” She pushes against my chest lightly, but the smile on her face says absolutely everything I need to know. I shrug. “We did things wrong the first time. Consider this me rewriting that memory.”
She’s about to tear up again. “Maverick,” she says and I press a finger against her lips.
“Save it until after the surprise. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Just at that moment, Alekos draws near, stealing Beth’s breath in a way that makes me just a little unsure about what I’m doing here. But today isn’t about me. Today’s about her and I’m about to pack a million memories into one night.
“May I have this dance?” Alekos asks and she reluctantly releases herself from me. There’s a mixture of nervousness, intimidation and excitement floating in her eyes.
I lean into her. “Just don’t forget, your husband also happens to be a very jealous man,” I tell her and pull her in for one more kiss before releasing her.
The laughter in her chest feels like a warm hug against my heart as we wrap up our first dance.
Alekos walks over to us when I nod.
Beth’s jaw practically falls to the floor. “Remember. Jealous husband over here.”
“I love you!” She mouths before accepting his dance.
I already know how that conversation is going to go and I watch her face as it unfolds. She glances over at me from across the room before looking down at her feet and I know she’s crying again. Good. She deserves this win. She’s worked so hard her entire life.
“Beth’s quite the crier, isn’t she?” Collin seems to have appeared out of nowhere. I turn to shake his hand, but don’t take my eyes off Beth.
“Congratulations, Maverick. The wedding was perfect,” he says. “You’ve come a long, long way.”
The conversation doesn’t go on much longer as we both watch Beth from the sidelines. Her hand is on her heart now and she’s shaking her head ‘no’, then nodding ‘yes’. Even in the dimness of the light, there’s no missing the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Collin’s about to ask me what’s going on and perhaps why I look so pleased that my wife’s crying when Beth reaches us in full sprint. She throws her arms around me and presses her lips against mine. I’m pretty sure I grow at least a foot taller from her appreciation.
“I don’t feel like I deserve it. This is all so much.”
“Well...actually, there is one more surprise.”
“Maverick!”
“And then we’re done, I promise.”
Moving over to the corner of the room, a distance away from the crowd, I find Beth’s father. He’s the one I’d left responsible for approving and packaging Beth’s gift. He knows what’s happening now, following the cue that after her dance with Alekos, she’d get the final gift of the night.
“Ready?” he asks me before pulling a chair out from the table in front of him. Wrapped in shiny silver gift wrap is the final surprise of the night. I pull it from the chair and carefully place it in Beth’s hands.
She’s tearing up as she sets it on the table and careful pulls the giftwrap undone. Her eyes are pools of happiness, her cheeks boasting the waterfalls of her joy as she looks up at me.
“Maverick,” she whispers.
“If you’re going to go to Juilliard you’re going to need the best tools,” I say.
With a deep cleansing breath, she traces her finger along the engraving of my mother’s name before taking the violin from the case and resting it under her chin.
The song she plays is one we both know well.
A song of love.
A song of freedom.
A song that binds us not just in this world, but in one that ascends us.
A song that completely and wholly embodies Eloise.
Epilogue
When I walk into the bedroom, I catch Beth mid-stretch.
“Good morning Mrs. Williams.” I smile at her and she rolls her eyes at me playfully.
“Good morning Mr. Williams,” she responds. “You’re all dressed up.”
“And you’re running late.”
“What?”
I point at the clock on the night table beside her and watch as she jumps out of bed wearing nothing but my shirt. She makes a mad rush to the bathroom, cursing me on her way there and on her way into the shower.
“Maverick I can’t believe you didn’t wake me!”
There’s a new outfit on the bed that I’ve selected for her to wear and some very scandalous undergarments that I can’t wait to rip off her later.
“You’re pretty when you’re asleep,” I say, leaning against the bathroom door.
“And I’m ugly when I’m awake?”
“Not when you’re naked,” I tease and she laughs, lighting up my life like only she can.
So much of me wants to be with her in the shower right now. That’s what my life has become. Me trying not to be a perv when my wife does just about everything. She’s sexy when she cooks. Sexy when she cleans. Sexy when she does just about everything.
“Five minutes and we need to be outta here,” I tell her. It’s more for my sanity than hers because if she spends longer than that in the shower, I know I’ll be forced to strip clean and join her. But we need to be at this interview, and we need to be there on time.
We’d stayed up all of last night studying each other’s answers for the interview today and I couldn’t let her see just how nervous I actually am.
This is it. The moment we’ve all been waiting for.
I’m much more convinced that we’ll do well because what we have isn’t a fraud anymore, but the thought of Beth being thrown into jail for me makes me sick to my stomach.
“How do I look?” she asks, walking into the living room and I stand to greet her.
“Like a trophy.” I grin and she shakes her head before marching to the kitchen for a snack to drop inside her purse.
“Let’s go make an American out of you,” she quips, and we march out of the flat with her tiny hands perfectly locked in mine.
The drive to the Embassy is a breeze, even though it’s one taken in a much slower vehicle than my Lambo. I’d held up the silent promise I made to Beth’s father and now, Bethany and I are the proud owners of two ridiculously boring, but incredibly safe Volvos.
Collin had warned us that the waiting time at the embassy might be lengthy even though he had worked some magic to fast track the process. When I pull into the parking lot, I realize just how right he was. He could only speed up the process of getting us to an actual interview, everything else will just take its course.
I step out of the vehicle and meet a smiling Collin on the tarmac. He’s beaming like a dad who’s proud of his son. Bethany has that effect on people. She knows how to make them like me. My relationship with Collin now is a lot better than the one I had when I was a single man. He’s not just my lawyer. He’s a valued friend.
We’re outside for about twenty minutes, laughing and chatting and shooting the shit when I get a brilliant idea that has absolutely nothing to do with Collin. It’s also something he wouldn’t approve of because it has nothing to do with me being on my best behavior.
“I’ll be right back,” I inform Beth and Collin.
I walk down the hallway, taking in the facility before I find a single stall private bathroom.
To: Wife
Wanna play a game?
I close the bowl and sit on it to wait for her response.
From: Wife
What are the rules?
To: Wife
Find me and you’ll win a prize
I give her directions and she doesn’t respond.
There’s a strong possibility that I shouldn’t be in here. Th
e bathroom has its own sink with a counter and a baby changing area, unlike most other public bathrooms. The sign on the door says ‘family’ and that we are. But what we’re about to do here, it’s breaking a whole bunch of rules.
There’s a tiny knock on the door.
“Maverick?”
I cross the room and open the door. As soon as she’s set a foot inside, I pin her to the wall.
“Maverick,” she gasps as I run my hand up her skirt, firmly grabbing her perfectly shaped ass.
“You win,” I smirk and she pulls me down to kiss me.
I pick her up and she wraps her legs around me as I set her down on the counter.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this here.”
“There are no cameras in the bathrooms.”
“We could get caught,” she whispers and I smile.
“That’s why you’ve got to be very, very, quiet.”
Before she has the chance to protest, I capture her lips with mine and slide my hand all the way up to the seat of her lace panties. I can feel my cock punching against my fly, wanting out and in her.
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes.”
“Is this still mine?” I ask, but don’t wait for an answer before slipping two fingers inside her. When she moans, it’s with none of the discretion I asked for. It’s loud and breathy, needy and greedy. I clasp a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as I get her ready for me.
When her juices are flowing down my fingers and her body starts to shake, I ease my fingers out of her and set her down.
“Turn around,” I groan, and she turns her back to me.
I lift her dress up to her waist and gently bring her right leg up to the counter. I waste no time shifting her panties to the side as I glide into her wetness.
My left hand covers her mouth while the right massages her breasts.
My cock is heavily coated with the evidence of her satisfaction as I keep pounding into her, loving the way she matches me thrust for thrust. She’s thirsty with need and I’m on marathon to quench her every desire.
“Come for me baby,” I pant, and my body tenses. Her walls tighten around my cock like a vice grip and I feel my knees buckling at the sensation of her. She cums hard, screaming into my hand, gripping the edges of the counter as her body convulses and I follow close behind her.
“I must admit that when we saw how young you both were, I was a little concerned. More than just a little concerned, if I’m completely honest.”
“We get that a lot.” I smile at the immigration officer and she nods.
“Why so young?” she asks, and Bethany looks over at me, her sated eyes shining with affection.
“When you know, you know.”
The immigration officer asks us a few questions about our relationship before taking a look at the folders we’d put together in preparation. The smile on her face as she flips through our wedding album is one I know all too well. When she closes the album, I’m almost sure I see real tears glistening in her emerald eyes.
“Well, everything checks out here, we have no reason to keep you for much longer. I am recommending that your green card application be conditionally approved.”
Everything that she says after that is a blur to me.
I get to stay? Holy shit, we did it!
“Thank you.” I stand to shake her hand and with a raise of her brow, she examines our rings.
“I will see you guys again in two years, alright?”
“Thank you so much.” Beth has tears in her eyes, and I hug her before we rush out of the office like the kids we are.
In the parking lot, Collin congratulates us on missing prison, and I thank him for convincing me to hang in there and for the mass of support he’s always provided.
When Collin leaves, I turn to Beth and I can’t find the words to tell her how I feel. Nothing seems appropriate or good enough to even come close.
“Burn the prenup,” I finally say to her. “All that I have, all that I will ever have, is yours. I don’t want any back doors. I just want you. Burn it.”
“Prenups are only relevant if we get divorced,” she tells me. “And I’m kinda in this for the long haul.”
This time, when she hugs me, it’s different. It’s a hug that’s not just filled with love and excitement. It’s a hug that tells me she too feels like her heart has finally found a home.
The End
Trinity High Teaser
GRAB YOUR COPY HERE
This isn’t what I thought I’d be coming back to after summer camp.
Granted, the sun is out. It could be a lot worse. As soon as I get off the school bus, I stop on the sidewalk just to look at it. My new school. Who the hell uproots her daughter right before her senior year and plops her in a new and potentially dangerous environment? A freshly divorced mother, that’s who.
I resent her for it. I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive her, or dad, for that matter. They didn’t tell me anything. I knew they were having trouble… I’m not blind. But they could’ve stuck it out for another year. Why do I have to pay for their mistakes?
Mom moved out and grabbed me along for “a new adventure,” as she likes to call it. I’m two towns over from all my friends and the people I actually care about.
The high school looks decent. Typical suburb establishment, with clean walls and preppy looking kids moving in herds before the first bell. They’re all giving me nasty looks—the kind that say - “You’re not supposed to be here, scab.” I can feel it in my bones, it’s not going to be a pleasant experience.
I’ve got my backpack on one shoulder, my hand gripping the padded strap a little tighter than usual. I’m nervous. Why shouldn’t I be? I’m on foreign, clearly hostile territory. I’m eighteen and not financially independent enough to be on my own, though it’s exactly what I’d like to do right now. Mom thinks I’ll be fine. Dad hasn’t called since he picked me up from summer camp. Fun fact: shortly after he dropped me off at home, he and mom sat me down and told me they were getting a divorce. The selfish bastards…
Sometimes, it’s really hard to love them. Not because I don’t want to, but because they just make everything so difficult. My stomach tightens and I fight the urge to bring my hand down to comfort it. I skipped breakfast this morning, loading up on coffee, instead. I’m not really rebelling. I just wasn’t happy enough with mom to spin around in a bar stool and pretend that everything’s okay while biting into a piece of toast. I’m starting to regret not eating. My stomach rumbles again. Shit, I’d kill for a waffle, right now.
The other kids keep giving me weary glances. Maybe there’s a “Stranger Danger” sign on my forehead? I run my fingers through my hair, thankful that it’s long and red enough to distract from the dark half-moons under my eyes. The depth of the circles are proof that I need a better concealer. I suck in a deep breath and tilt my head back up to the crowd before me.
“What the hell are they staring at?” I mutter to myself, glancing down. I’ve got short jeans, white Vans, a pale-yellow tank top and my washed-up denim vest. It may be September already, but it’s still August-hot. From what I can tell, I’m not outside Trinity High’s fashion norms. Plenty of skimpy summer dresses and spaghetti straps around, from the juniors to the seniors. What makes me so different?
I’m the new girl. I think that’s the deal with these middle-class specimens. Like tigers, they smell new blood. If I’m not careful, if I let my guard down, they’ll pounce. I know they will. Teenagers can be mean, not to mention the seniors, who prefer to call themselves “young adults” these days. Doesn’t really get a lot more pretentious than that, does it?
My phone rings and I briefly check the time. Fifteen minutes until the first class. Brenda’s calling me. I miss her so damn much…
“What’s up, Dougie?” I answer, lowering my voice.
She mimics me to perfection. “What’cha’ doin’, sweet cheeks?”
We both laugh. I love hearing her voice. It’s the most I
can get from Brenda, these days. We’re fifty miles apart, but those fifty miles feel a heck of a lot like five hundred. Her parents are always busy, my mom won’t lend me the Mini Cooper to visit Brenda back in my hometown… So, we’re left with Facetime and phone calls.
“You in school yet?” she asks. I can hear noise in the background. Hell, I can almost see Tracy and Uma sauntering over to her, lattes in one hand, bear claws in the other. Our morning routine.
I let a deep sigh roll out of my chest. “I’m about to go in. This new school has got some Cruel Intention vibes, I tell ya’!”
“You mean, hot guys and three-way innuendos every fifteen minutes?” Brenda giggles. She’s being nice. Trying to make light of what I know she fully understands is a shitty fucking situation.
I roll my eyes and let out a deep sigh. “No, more like sassy beauty queens throwing daggers with their eyes,” I say. “And they’re looking straight at me. It’s creepy. It’s like they’re planning to murder me the moment I’m alone.”
Brenda gasps. It’s one of her fake, overly dramatic gasps, meant to make me laugh. “Oh, my god, stay away from the bathroom, you hear me?! Stay. Away. From the bathroom!”
I chuckle softly, a little sorry I can’t give her a heartier laugh. But there are three gorgeous senior chicks eyeing me like I’ve just stolen their quinoa salads. I’m not the aggressive type but I don’t back down, either. My physique might not be in any way intimidating, yet I can still throw a punch and hit something. The apparent leader of the pack throws me a glossy smirk as she goes through the main door, joined by her sidekicks. Their cheerleading uniforms give anyone at the bottom of the stairs a good view of their round, perfectly toned rumps.
Vile Intentions: A Dark Sports Bully Romance Page 30