by Lulu Pratt
“I am not about to back out at this point,” Lara says, giving me a significant look. I get a little tight feeling in my chest. I’d been suspecting for a few days that there was something up with her, but when she told me the night before that she’d been to the doctor, who’d confirmed that she was pregnant, I’d known that she was serious about what we were about to do.
“And you’re sure you don’t want an actual, real wedding with a dress and all that?” That was the one thing about what we were doing that I thought Lara would actually regret.
“I’m sure. Think of all the drama that would come up for that,” Lara points out.
“Oof, yeah,” I agree, as we get close to the entrance. I stop her there and give her a quick kiss.
“I’d much rather just tell people that it’s already done and not give anyone a chance to try to talk me out of it, including you,” Lara says, before we go in.
There aren’t that many people in line, and before too long we’re in front of the Justice of the Peace, with two witnesses who we managed to scrounge from the lobby while we were waiting.
“Do you, Ethan Parks, take Lara Hampstead, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, cherish, and honor in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?” For just a second, in my mind, I’m back with Alexis, standing at the front of the little church we’d married in, looking down into her eyes, seeing the tears standing there. But the memory fades in an instant.
“I absolutely do,” I say.
“And do you, Lara Hampstead, take Ethan Parks as your lawfully wedded husband, to love, cherish, and honor in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”
There isn’t even a moment’s hesitation from Lara to the question.
“I do,” she says, and I feel her hands squeeze mine.
“By the authority vested in me, I declare the two of you husband and wife. Let’s sign these papers and you’ll be legally married,” the Justice of the Peace says, bending his head over the paperwork.
It feels weird. I put the ring on Lara’s finger. I’d gotten it a few weeks ago, just before we started actually talking about getting married. It’s pretty simple, a white gold band, with a ruby shaped like a heart, because Lara had mentioned to me back when we were first dating in high school that she didn’t see anything special about diamonds.
We sign the paperwork ourselves and that’s it, we’re married. I have to wonder, as we’re walking out of the courthouse together, if Lara isn’t disappointed.
“You’re sure you don’t want a real wedding? This is enough for you?”
Lara smiles at me and looks down at her ring.
“I am damn sure that this is the most beautiful ring I can imagine ever having,” she says.
“It’s technically an engagement ring, you know,” I point out, looking down on it.
“I know, but maybe a year from now you can give me a proper wedding band,” Lara suggests, her eyes sparkling.
“There’s something else I want to give you right now, but I didn’t want to do it in the courthouse. I thought it might bring up too many questions,” I say, thinking about the other thing I’d brought with me, the thing I’d kept hidden in my wallet for over a year.
“What’s that?” We stop at the car and I take out my wallet. I reach into a little pocket along one side of the bill fold, and take out the thing that’s been weighing on me, a little, at least, ever since Lara and I started seeing each other.
“This is Alexis’ wedding band,” I say quietly. I pull the ring out and show it to Lara. I’d taken it off Alexis’ finger at the hospital, before they took away her body to send it to the funeral home. It’s one of the very last things I have of her, other than Riley.
“You want me to have it?”
I look at Lara’s face, she’s not angry, as I’d half-feared, but she does seem confused.
“I want you to have it at least until Riley is old enough,” I say.
Lara nods slowly. “I can see that, I guess,” she says quietly.
“I also… I feel like Alexis would want you to have it, with us getting back together,” I explain.
“You know… I’ve been wondering all morning how she would feel about this. About us getting back together,” Lara says in a quiet voice.
“It’s kinda her fault that we did. She couldn’t be too mad at us,” I point out. We’ve not really talked about Alexis for months now, and I’ve gotten past the point where that fact makes me feel ashamed. I know Alexis would have wanted me to move on, to fall in love again.
“The more I think about it, the more I feel like she kind of meant for it to be this way,” Lara tells me, speaking slowly.
“You do?” This is something that neither of us has dared to really talk about, whether or not Alexis would approve.
“I think she did. I think… I think she thought that if she was out of the way, gone, that things would get better between us, and that we’d eventually end up together. One way or another,” Lara explains.
“I think she took it to heart, how upset it made you. I think… I think that she really believed it was her fault, and mine, that the family fell apart the way it did,” I say. It’s like a weight off me, the same way that it was when I first admitted my part of the fault in tearing apart the Hampstead family.
“I think this was her way of sort of bringing everything back together, and so…” Lara smiles at me slowly, and slips her sister’s ring on the ring finger of her right hand.
“And so?” I put my arms around her and pull her close, pressing her body against mine.
“And so it would almost be an insult to her memory not to get back together, if you really think about it,” Lara finishes. I turn her face up to mine and kiss her on the lips, lightly at first and then more hungrily.
“We need to get home so we get at least a fighting chance at a wedding night,” I whisper to her, barely breaking away from her mouth. Lara murmurs something that sounds like an agreement, holding me tighter in the cold November air.
By the time we get to the house, the idea of having Lara all to myself for a few hours is already enough to have me half-hard. We get into the house we’ve been sharing for most of the year, and I close and lock the door behind us before pulling Lara into my arms and kissing her full on the lips hard and hungrily.
I let my hands wander all over her body, stopping for a second at her breasts, and then at her waist. I remember all in a flash that she’s pregnant, pregnant with my baby, and I hold her even tighter, moaning against her lips as I think of that tiny, microscopic thing that’s made up of her and me both, growing inside of her.
We make our way to the bedroom slowly, taking each other’s clothes off, first each other’s coats and then sweaters, and then I’m struggling to unzip the heavy, thick skirt Lara’s wearing even as we step through the bedroom door together.
I hesitate for a second before pushing Lara onto the bed. I’m almost worried that I might hurt her, that I might hurt our new baby together. But she grins up at me even as she tumbles down among the blankets and sheets, and the next moment I’m on top of her, kissing her again, touching her everywhere.
“If I can’t have a glass of Champagne, at least I can get good sex, right?” I laugh at Lara’s comment, slipping my hand up between her legs, past the fabric of her panties, to touch her, to slide my fingers along the soaking wet folds of her pussy.
“I will give you the best sex of your life,” I tell her, stripping off her panties, leaving her completely naked underneath me.
LARA
Ethan begins working his way down from my lips and I shiver as he gets to my breasts, cupping them both for a moment, ignoring my hot, drenched labia. He brings first one and then the other of my nipples to his mouth to suck and lick, worshipping me with his mouth. I moan out, not even caring how loud I am for once, there’s no Riley here for me to worry about waking.
I’d suspected I was pregnant about a week before I actually told Ethan. I�
�d started feeling queasy in the mornings, and my breasts had been tender, and I’d just all around felt run-down, like I was coming down with the flu. I’d felt better this morning, and with Ethan worshipping my breasts with his mouth, even as he drops one hand down between my legs once again to stroke and rub my pleasure center, I feel even better.
Ethan moves on from my breasts and slithers down my body, spreading my legs wide as he shifts down in between them. I’m trembling from how turned on I am, gripping the sheets under me as I wait for him to get to his destination. Finally, I feel his fingers gently pushing my outer labia aside, and then he buries his face against my pussy, immediately sucking and licking, lapping up my fluids and teasing my clit with the tip of his tongue. I moan, my hands reaching out blindly until I find his head, and I grab at his hair, at his shoulders, as Ethan works me with his lips and tongue. I feel his wriggling tongue slide inside of me, and my muscles tighten around him, flexing, as a little spasm of pleasure works through my body.
Ethan teases me for what seems like ages, taking his time, his tongue moving up to my clit to swirl and flick against the bead of nerves and then dipping down to my labia when I’m on the edge of climax. My hips buck and twist under Ethan’s attacks, and I writhe and move on the bed, trapped underneath him, trapped by the pleasure swirling around my body and shooting through my nerves as I come closer and closer to climax by the moment. Finally, when I feel like I can’t possibly take any more teasing, Ethan pulls back and I groan with impatience.
“Oh, come on!” Ethan laughs at me, slithering back up my body and kissing me on the lips after licking his own lips clean. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it’s so incredibly hot, so wonderful to taste myself mingled with the taste of him, that I almost can’t stand it.
“You have never been all that patient, have you?”
I feel the heat and hardness of Ethan’s erection against my thigh, against my hip as he shifts on top of me, holding me down, the weight of him so good against my body.
“Nope, never,” I agree, chuckling a little bit from the sheer excitement of knowing that Ethan won’t keep me waiting for very long. I reach down between our bodies and find the shape of his cock, wrapping my fingers around it and stroking him for a few moments. Ethan moans against my neck, biting me carefully, sending another jolt of pleasure through my body.
After a few more moments of waiting, I push my hips down and wrap my legs around Ethan’s body, guiding his cock to my soaking wet pussy. Ethan laughs again and moves out of the way, shifting his hips away from me to tease me for just a moment longer. He pushes my hand away and then guides himself up against me, rubbing against my clit steadily before finally sliding inside of me in one steady thrust.
I cling to him, pushing my hips down to take him as deeply as possible even as I moan in pleasure. Ethan holds still inside of me and then slowly pulls out, almost completely, until just the tip of his cock is still in. Then he thrusts into me once more, hard and fast, making me gasp.
“How does that feel to you, wife?” The words, especially the last one, are almost all that it takes to send me over the edge. I kiss Ethan hungrily, letting my muscles tighten around him in little spasms as my body reacts to the pleasure he’s giving me. We start moving together, me twisting my hips and pushing down to take him, Ethan thrusting in a steady rhythm that I couldn’t help falling into even if I wanted to.
“It feels incredible,” I tell him, moaning it, holding him and touching him everywhere my hands can reach, kissing him everywhere I can get to with my lips. We move together like we were made for this, like we’re perfect for each other, and the tension builds deep down between my hips. I only think of the baby I have, Ethan’s baby, growing not too far from where he’s taking me for just a moment, and then I can’t even care whether or not what we’re doing is good for the baby, surely it can’t be a problem, not this early?
I try to hold back because it feels so good, and I want it to go on forever, but before I know it, the tension is reaching such a peak deep down between my hips that I can barely stand it. All at once it snaps like a rubber band stretched too far, and I cry out, gripping Ethan as if for life itself as wave after wave of pleasure washes through me. He slows down just enough to keep me at climax for what seems like an hour, steady but not pounding me, and when my climax starts to ebb I realize he hasn’t come yet, he’s holding back.
He works me up again, speeding up and slowing down, paying better attention to my body and my cues than any of the few other guys I’d been with between when I broke up with him and when we started up again. I have no idea how long we go at it before the tension deep between my hips is almost unbearable again, and this time when I hit my climax Ethan is only a few heartbeats behind me. I hear him groan in pleasure as we both come, kissing each other breathlessly, touching each other as if we can never get enough of each other, my body tightening around Ethan as if it never wants him to leave it.
We collapse to the bed together, panting and gasping for breath, slick-sticky with sweat. I smile sleepily at all the pleasure humming in my veins, like honey, like bees, buzzing through my nerves but not stinging at all.
“Well if I wasn’t pregnant before, this would probably have done it,” I say jokingly, as soon as I’ve caught my breath.
“Are you worried?”
I open my eyes and wriggle around in Ethan’s grip, turning onto my side to face him. “Worried about what?”
Ethan raises an eyebrow. “About anything, I guess. About how your dad is going to take it. About giving birth.”
I lick my lips. I know if I tell Ethan I’m thirsty, he’ll get up like a shot and run into the kitchen to get me whatever I want, but I put that thought aside for a moment longer.
“I think that he’ll have to fully come around with this baby. And if my sister could give birth without drugs or anything, I think I can manage it,” I say, grinning. It’s one of the few ways that I’ll let myself compare my situation to my sister. I’ve given up any sense of rivalry or keeping score with her. There’s no point in it anymore.
“I’ll be right there with you. Also, I think Riley will love having a little brother or sister,” Ethan says. He looks me in the eyes for a moment longer and then pushes himself up onto his elbows and knees, then slides out of the bed.
“What’s wrong?” Ethan grins at me.
“I know that look on your face, you want something to drink. Juice, tea or water?”
I laugh and wave off the question, leaving the choice to him. Ethan bounds off to go get me a drink and I stare up at the ceiling of the bedroom we share. It isn’t my bedroom at home, it isn’t the bedroom I slept in as a single woman, and it isn’t the bedroom he shared with my sister. It’s our bedroom. It’s our house. Not the one we talked about when we were in high school, but it’s our own little happily ever after.
Revenge F*ck
Revenge is a dish best served hot and sweaty
It started as revenge.
A simple way to punish my ex-husband.
Fucking his divorce lawyer, Eric.
It wasn’t supposed be anything more.
But when he touches me, it sets me on fire.
I don’t want to stop.
Yet how can we carry on when it risks my divorce settlement?
Maybe Eric is the one using me.
Screwing me and screwing me over at the same time.
What if I’m the one being played?
***A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot hero. No cliffhanger, no cheating and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***
CHAPTER ONE
KATE
I could really use a margarita right now. Big one, shoved to the top with limes that have been marinating in tequila for three days, pink salt. Extra tip for one of those tiny umbrellas in the glass and a bartender who replaces the empty glass with a full one before I notice. Once I get out of here, I am going to have at least three. Bare minimum.
“I don’t think what
we’re asking for is beyond the realm of reason.” This from the attorney in an expensive suit and tie. Although he is working for my ex, I can’t help but think about what the attorney looks like without his shirt. I have a feeling, deep, deep down, that he is very fuckable.
“It’s quite respectable,” he says with a hint of a smirk.
“Bullshit.” I mutter and innocently examine my nails. Vivian kicks me under the table but I don’t acknowledge it. That would require me to look like I give a shit and shatter the illusion I’m concocting.
“We both know that isn’t true.” Vivian bares her teeth in an unfriendly grin. She looks like a shark in pinstripes, which is precisely why I hired her. “There is a long-documented relationship and partnership between my client and yours. What you are offering is laughable at best.”
“Documented how, exactly?” the lawyer smirks again. “The internet? We both know a few tabloid photos aren’t admissible in court.”
“We’re not in court, Mr. Stevens. We’re in mediation. Surely you remember there is a difference?” Vivian turns to cock an eyebrow at our mediator, a staunch older woman with a severe librarian bun and laser beams for eyeballs.
The woman doesn’t say anything and scratches a few notes in her notepad. If I was footing the bill for this nonsense, I’d be livid. It’s my ex’s money, David’s bank account, the one under lock and key, that was responsible though, which means I don’t mind wasting as many hours as margaritas I am waiting to drink.
“This all comes back down to your client’s insistence,” the sexy asshole lawyer says, “that there be no prenuptial agreement. My client recommended it for protection of all parties and your client declined it. By law, she isn’t entitled to anything beyond what we are offering. You won’t find better with a judge.”
“Bullshit.” Vivian and I say in tandem. She comes off less bitter than I do.
“A marriage isn’t a business contract, Mr. Stevens.”