Pick Six

by Max Monroe

I pouted.

  “Don’t worry, that comes later.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Nice one.” An amused laugh left his lips.

  “Okay…so are you going to tell me what’s happening, or do I have to guess?”

  “Come a little closer.” He reached out his hand and led me toward the very edge of the bed.

  “Is this good?” I asked, still kneeling and looking up at him.

  “Perfect.”

  And before I even knew what was happening, Sean was down on one knee and looking up at me with sexiest, sweetest, most perfect smile I’d ever seen in my life.

  “Before I give you what I want to give you, I need to ask you something really important.”

  Down on one knee?

  Need to ask me something really important?

  This isn’t what I think it is…is it?

  My eyes grew wide, and I stared down at him. “W-what? What? What are you doing?” I asked and covered my mouth with my hand.

  He just smiled and reached into his pocket.

  And before I knew it, inside the palm of his hand sat a sparkly, gorgeous, way too big diamond ring.

  Literally, a diamond freaking ring stared up at me.

  “Sean? What is happening?”

  “Six.” He looked up at me with his whole damn heart in his eyes. “I love you, baby. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. You’re my best friend. My lover. My perfect match. And I know, without a doubt, I want and need to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you make me the luckiest man on the planet and marry me?”

  “Oh my God,” I muttered and just continued to stare down at him in complete shock. “Are you being serious right now?”

  He nodded.

  “This isn’t like some sort of comedy bit for my YouCam channel?”

  He shook his head, and his grin grew wider. “No bit, baby. This is one hundred percent the real deal.”

  “The real deal?”

  He nodded again. “Marry me.”

  “You’re crazy,” I said because, honestly, he was. I mean, we’d only officially been together for all of three months, and he was freaking asking me to marry him?

  “For you,” he said. “I’m fucking crazy for you.”

  I took in the earnest lines of his face. The way his eyes shone with more love than I even knew was possible. And all I could think was, God, I love him.

  He was my person.

  The only person I wanted and needed to spend the rest of my life with.

  When I looked toward the future, I saw him, and us, together.

  I saw us being playful and traveling and exploring the world together.

  I saw us making love and stealing kisses and cuddling on the couch rewatching episodes from Game of Thrones for the fiftieth time.

  I saw us having babies and growing old together.

  I saw everything I had ever wanted and all of the things I didn’t even know I’d needed.

  Until now.

  Until Sean.

  Marry him? I didn’t even need to think about it.

  In a bumbling rush, I hopped off the bed and threw myself into his arms. He nearly fell to his ass, but somehow managed to keep us both from hitting the hardwood floor of our bedroom.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I shouted in between placing crazy, erratic kisses all over his face. “Yes, you crazy bastard! Let’s get married!”

  He chuckled and wrapped both arms around me, embracing me tightly to his chest.

  “You’ll marry me?” he whispered into my ear, and I nodded like a lunatic.

  “Yes!”

  He pressed a long, soft, delicious kiss to my lips, and I pretty much just melted into his arms.

  But before he let the kiss get out of hand, he lifted me back onto the bed, sitting my giddy ass back onto the mattress, and then, with him still on his knees and his gaze firmly locked with mine, he slid the ring onto my finger.

  He kissed the top of the ring with his full lips and smiled up at me.

  “Are you ready to get married, soon-to-be Mrs. Phillips?”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Like, how ready are you?”

  “Uh…” I scrunched up my face in confusion, and a confused laugh left my lips. “I just said yes, so I think it’s safe to say I’m very ready.”

  “Good,” he said and hopped to his feet. “Let’s head out, then.”

  “Head out?”

  He nodded and stepped out into the hallway to wheel two suitcases into our bedroom. “The car should be here any minute. And I hope you don’t mind, but for time purposes, I went ahead and packed your shit.”

  “What car? And you packed my shit?” I asked and glanced down at my favorite pink suitcase, which apparently, was already set to go. The only issue was, I didn’t have a fucking clue where it was going. Or where I was going, for that matter. “Sean Phillips, what is happening right now?”

  “Vegas, baby,” he said, grinning. “You’re ready. I’m ready. And I sure as shit don’t want to wait another fucking day before I can call you my wife.”

  “We’re going to Vegas? To get married?”

  “Yep.” He glanced at his watch. “Our flight leaves in about three hours.”

  “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never been so clear or sure of anything in my fucking life.”

  He was crazy.

  This was crazy.

  But, good God, I was crazy too.

  I jumped off the bed and into his arms. “I fucking love you!”

  “I love you too,” he said through a few chuckles and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Now, go get dressed so I can take you to Vegas and marry you.”

  I started to walk back into the bathroom, but I only managed two steps before he grabbed my wrist and turned me back toward him.

  “Hold on,” he said. “There’s just one thing I have to do before we leave.”

  I quirked a brow, but when Sean started sliding my panties down my legs and doing the same with his shorts, I didn’t even need to ask.

  Before I knew it, my legs were wrapped around his waist and my back was pressed against the wall.

  “So…you needed to do me before we leave?” I asked cheekily, but he just responded by sliding his thick cock inside of me.

  “You do realize that camera is still rolling right?” I asked, but then I started to moan as he pushed himself deeper.

  “Our first sex tape. I bet your YouCam followers will love this,” he teased, and I wanted to laugh or smack him or maybe a combination of both, but his cock…

  Holy moly, it felt so good.

  His heady gaze locked with mine. “Soon-to-be Mrs. Phillips,” he said, and his big hands gripped my ass. “I hope you don’t mind, but I just had to be inside of you. I couldn’t wait another fucking second.”

  I pressed my mouth to his, and the instant his lips parted, I dove my tongue inside to take a taste.

  Soon-to-be Mrs. Phillips? Yeah, I could definitely get used to that.

  And this.

  God, I could get used to this, being all wrapped up in my soon-to-be husband.

  Forever and ever and ever.

  “Yes, okay!” Six yelled as I pulled her into the elevator at the Wynn Hotel in Las Vegas. “This is Sean Phillips, and I am the woman you saw ranting about his cock veins! Stare a little harder, why don’t you!”

  “Okay, baby,” I hushed her with a laugh, wrapping a hand around her mouth as the doors finally closed. “Time to be quiet now.”

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized with a stamp of her foot. “I broke, okay? Six straight hours of people staring at us in the airport and on the plane and in the other airport and in the lobby, and I fucking broke.”

  I laughed and shook my head, pulling her into a hug to place a kiss at the top of her head. She was the love of my life, and comforting her in her time of craziness was the least I could do.

  Plus, when she found out I’d secretly had
her camera running to capture audio for the last hour and a half, she was going to need this really romantic gesture of mine to look back on.

  Especially since she’d gotten lost in the Las Vegas airport, and I’d been too busy capturing the hysteria on camera to help.

  “I know. But we’re on our way up to our room now. We’ll shower—possibly together—and then we’ll go get married. You can relax.”

  She had been holding it together pretty well, but people had been relentless and I hadn’t prepared her for it. Since we’d lost the championship game, the two of us had done a superior job at living low-key. Paparazzi had hunted us for a while, but they’d eventually given up when we hadn’t produced anything else noteworthy. Of course, that only made getting a shot of us now more coveted.

  “I can’t relax,” she protested, jerking out of my arms. “And I can’t do sexy time with you, so put your perfect penis back in his hidey hole.”

  I laughed and pouted. “Why can’t you do sexy time with me?”

  The snap of her eyebrows as they came together was comical. “Uh, because I’ll be too busy making you a costume?” she suggested with an air of snobbery. Clearly, I should have been able to guess.

  “What costume?”

  She shook her head. “Disguise. I should have said disguise.”

  “Are we going on some top-secret mission I should know about?”

  “We’re getting married! In Las Vegas! And everyone knows we’re here now thanks to my yelling about your cock veins. So, yes, we are going on a top-secret mission. I hope you’re comfortable in spandex.”

  “If we’re trying to avoid people recognizing me, shouldn’t we be trying harder to disguise my penis? I mean, that’s the part they’re most familiar with, thanks to you. Spandex is hardly going to do anything to hide it.”

  “You’d better disguise your penis right now. Word on the street is that my fist is looking for it.”

  I bobbed and weaved with a laugh, covering the goods with a splayed hand. “Easy, Sixy. You’re going to have to use a little care if you want kids one day.”

  “Kids?” she shrieked. “Can we just focus on getting married for now?”

  The elevator dinged, and I ushered her out the doors and onto our floor. We passed a couple in the hall, but they were too busy canoodling to pay any attention to us.

  “Trust me, baby. I’m completely focused on marrying you,” I whispered sweetly into her ear.

  She turned with a jerk, and I laughed as her hair smacked me in the face. “No sexy time!”

  I gathered her closer, stepping out to the side of her body to walk as we hugged. “Okay, baby,” I agreed easily. “You need to save your sexy-time energy for after the wedding anyway.”

  Her arms lined mine right under her breasts, and I could feel her smile as it warmed the hall outside our door. “Yeah,” she whispered. “You better start planning now. We both know you have to put in a little extra effort to make it good.”

  God, she was a ballbuster.

  I fucking love her.

  “Are you sure this is the way you want to do it?” I asked, one last time, as we made the turn into the drive.

  Six’s nod was absolute, just as it had been the moment she’d come out of our hotel bathroom with fire in her eyes and a smartphone in her hand. Nothing good could come of internet surfing about your wedding in the room you peed, I had feared, and it didn’t take her long to prove me right.

  “Yes. I had no yarn and no time, so knitting you a disguise got eliminated pretty quickly.”

  “But our wedding in the drive-thru?” I asked again with a laugh.

  Didn’t she want the aisle? The flowers?

  “Yes. It’ll be just as special as if we did it inside—and a whole lot more private. This way, you don’t even have to get out of the car.”

  “Ah, yes,” I murmured sarcastically. “Staying in the car was my number one priority for my wedding day.”

  “Shut up. And pull up to the window. And flash them your abs so they’ll give us a discount.”

  I laughed. “We don’t need a discount. I’d say we’re already getting a fucking bargain on our wedding by doing it this way.” My pockets weren’t being emptied by any pomp and circumstance.

  “Discounts aren’t always about need, Sean. Gah. Who am I even marrying right now?” she asked teasingly.

  I stopped the car in the Tunnel of Love, behind a car in front of us at the Little White Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas, and leaned over to the woman of my dreams to touch my lips to hers.

  They were soft and sweet and melted under my own as I whispered Six’s truth. “The love of your life.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed easily, melting into the momentous feel of what we were about to do. “Something like that.”

  The car in front of us started up, the people inside cheering in celebration of their nuptials, so I put the shifter back into drive and pulled forward to the window. With the infamous pink Cadillac next to our rental Chevy Malibu, I was feeling a little inferior.

  “Maybe we should have rented something a little cooler.”

  Six narrowed her eyes. “Flashy cars aren’t discreet, Sean.”

  “Neither is yelling about my cock in the Wynn lobby, Six,” I challenged back.

  She nodded. “Fair point, well made.”

  I rolled down the window on my side as a woman came to the window, our laughter still rolling as we mooned at one another.

  “Well, well. That’s what I love to see. A truly happy couple who can’t even stop looking at one another long enough to look at me,” the woman greeted.

  My smile deepened, and so did Six’s.

  I knew in that moment that this was so much more than a crazy decision made out of lust and new love. This was life.

  Six made me happier than anyone I’d ever met, and she did it all the time. Anytime we were together, my face ached. No matter the years spent as a happy guy, or the years hanging out with my crazy sister, or the many years I’d spent dominating on the football field, I’d never smiled as much as I did when Six was with me.

  Making me laugh or turning me on, making fun of me or screaming in lobbies about my dick, Six was always finding a way to burrow a little deeper under my skin.

  Keeping my eyes on the sparkling amber in her brown ones, I lifted a hand to push some of her wild hair out of her face.

  The woman in the window would wait, but the words I had to say wouldn’t.

  “I love you.”

  I wanted her to know forever and I wanted her to know always and I wanted her to know right then, right before I made her my wife.

  “I think I fell in love with you the moment I met you,” I admitted, thinking about staring down at her at the front of the team meeting room that day.

  She laughed then. “Me too. Every part of you,” she emphasized, glancing over my shoulder to the woman playing third wheel to our conversation.

  I knew instantly she was referring to her moment in the locker room, and I pulled her in for a kiss.

  Deep, wet, and real, this kiss was worthy of a beginning. Worthy of the start of the rest of our lives.

  And apparently, I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

  A throat cleared as I pulled away, and Six and I both shifted to look at the woman in the window. Her smile was wide, and her gray hair blew in the gentle breeze.

  “Not too often couples do my whole job for me,” she said with a laugh. “I say, the two of you tell me right now that you take each other to be husband and wife, and we seal this deal officially.”

  Six leaned forward to bring her head in line with mine and glanced over to meet my eyes. Hers were sparkling and sure, and I’d never been more captivated.

  “I definitely do,” she said.

  My smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I do.”

  “Well, then,” the nameless woman we hadn’t even bothered to introduce ourselves to declared. “By the power invested in me
by the State of Nevada, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

  A drive-thru window, a Chevy Malibu, and a nameless officiant—it wasn’t the normal dream. But it sure as hell felt like mine.

  “Aaaahhhhh bleeee blahhhhhh,” Ace yelled as he tore through the house like a fluffing maniac, Gunner chasing after him like a rabid dog.

  “No running in the house!” I yelled to the two of them, but then I quickly went back to focusing on the blinking cursor in front of me.

  Writing romance novels, my new hobby, was no fluffing joke, and doing it with kids in the house was my own version of waterboarding.

  Shut off the fluffing valve already! I’ll talk!

  I glanced at the clock, knowing my giant ogre of a husband would be walking through the door any minute and praying to all that was holy that Gunner would give him a shot in the balls as soon as he stepped over the threshold.

  Both for old times’ sake and practicality.

  I was still crazy about Thatch—and crazy in general—and he was still hard all the time thinking about how gorgeous I was.

  But I was in the middle of this fucking chapter, and the last thing I needed was him coming in the door and trying to rut all over me immediately.

  An attack from Gunner would buy me testicle-recovery time and set Thatch’s sights directly on our fluffing hoodlums.

  Win-win.

  I chewed at my lip, considering the different ways I could describe Regenald’s hardening penis. It could be a bulging member or maybe a stiff rod. Or maybe I just needed to go all out and cock drop.

  It was always such a hard decision.

  I right-clicked the cursor to bring up the thesaurus for “penis,” but I didn’t get even a moment to explore before my phone rang beside me.

  My brother Sean’s smiling face taunted me. I answered with a sigh.

  “This had better be good, Sean. I was right in the middle of researching all the different things to call a penis.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and all of a sudden, the interruption felt worth it. If there was anything I loved more than almost anything in the world—my kids and Thatch’s Supercock took the top spots—it was skeeving out my brother with oversharing.

  I smiled. “No dear, brother. Jesusina Christina, maybe, but I am not Jesus Christ. Is there a reason you’re calling?”