by Mia Ford
Then she was in my arms, and Courtney was cheering, Courtney and Eli, too, who had followed me to the diner without me knowing. After ten years of fighting against it, I finally understood what home meant for me. It was Fay, and there was nothing else I could ever really need.
Epilogue: Fay
“Are you sure about this? You can always say no, you know that, right? It’s not like this is written in stone or anything.”
“Courtney! Come on now, you know I’m sure. Wouldn’t you be if I asked you? When we get to your and Eli’s wedding day, do you think you’ll just turn around and say no, never mind?”
“Hell no!” Courtney grinned, looking at me through the mirror while she made sure my veil was pinned properly into place. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been together since you two got engaged, and that’s been what, a year now?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Exactly! If I can make something work for a year, there’s no way I’m giving it up. Besides, if there’s any chance that romance shit is legit, for me, it’s with Eli. And if you tell him I told you that, I’ll murder you and make it look like an accident.”
“Ha! Okay, your secret’s safe with me, I promise. Now would you get my locket?”
“Are you sure you want to wear that? You wear it every day, you know? Don’t you want to wear something extra special?”
“This is special,” I answered softly, fingering the smooth, worn metal as Courtney fastened it into place. “This is the most special piece of jewelry I have, and I can’t imagine getting married with anything else.”
“All right, if you say so, but why? Why is it so special to you, I mean?”
I smiled and thought back to my thirteenth birthday, so long ago, but so clearly imprinted in my memory that I was sure it would never fade at all. Neil had given me the locket for that birthday. He had walked from his house on the hill to my front door with locket in tow, sitting inside of a little velvet box very similar to the one he’d presented my engagement ring with.
My mother had answered the door and had retrieved me for the red-faced, nervous boy standing there and waiting for me. As Courtney led me to the vast backyard of Neil’s family home, the scene for our small wedding, I could still see that little boy version of Neil standing there and waiting for me. I could see him in the man that was waiting at the end of the aisle. He had waited until my mom had left the two of us alone and then he had shoved the box towards me, asking me if I would be his girlfriend at the same time.
“Do you, Fay, take this man, Neil, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.”
“And do you, Neil, take this woman, Fay, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
“With the power invested in me by the state of Alaska, I now pronounce you man and wife. Neil, you may kiss your bride.”
As Neil leaned in and kissed me, kissed me as he officially made me his wife, I could still see that time so long ago when he had leaned forward and kissed me chastely after I had told him that I would love to be his girlfriend. I realized in that moment that he was still at least some of that little boy, while I was still some of that little girl. We were those versions of ourselves as well as the versions we were now, and we would be both and more as we went about the process of growing old together.
I kissed him back, and as he took me by the hand and led me down the aisle and back towards the massive house the two of us would live in now, I thought I might have just caught the faintest glimpse of what it meant to love a person for the span of a lifetime. It was too big to hold onto, and I was sure that I would lose sight of it sooner rather than later, but in that moment. I felt that I understood everything. It filled my heart with joy.
“Follow me,” he said.
“Follow you where?”
My thoughts had been such that I had been paying more attention to what was in my head than to where I was going. When I looked up, I saw that he was in the process of leading me to the master bedroom. Over the course of the last year, Neil had seen to it that almost the whole interior of the house had been made over, and the master bedroom was now where we slept. It was a lovely room, and one I still felt grateful to be able to call my own, but I wasn’t too sure why we were going to it now. All of our friends were still downstairs, getting ready to party and celebrate our wedding, and our bedroom had nothing to do with that. Still, his fingers were intertwined with mine, and he was leading me towards the bed, his intentions suddenly crystal clear.
“But Neil, we can’t! There are people waiting for us down there!”
“Let them wait. I love you, Fay. I love you, and I want to show you that.”
The part of me that wanted to play a good hostess was anxious to fight him and insist that we go downstairs and save what he had in mind for later. But there was a whole other part of me that I wasn’t sure had even existed before this second relationship with Neil. In so many ways, it was a continuation of the relationship we’d been a part of for almost all of our lives. This was the part of me that wanted to let him love me, that wanted to love him back, and this was the part of me that won out.
I didn’t put up any kind of fight. Instead, I raised my hands over my head in a submissive gesture that made him smile a little. He took the simple white shift I had chosen as my wedding dress and pulled it over my head, laying it out gently so that I could put it back on again when we were done. My arms came down, and I stood before Neil, naked. I stood before my husband and looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes. His face looking back at me was all sweet smiles and tender lines, and when he kissed me, it was after cupping my face in both of his impossibly large, strong hands.
He kissed me slowly. His lips moved on mine with something approaching timidity, feeling for my reaction as he went. Practically on my tiptoes to do it, my arms moved up to his neck and plunged into his slightly disheveled hair. I pulled him toward me as I used my tongue to separate his lips. I slipped it inside of his mouth, smiling as we continued to kiss. He groaned into my mouth.
I could feel him growing hard against my hip, and one of my hands began to slide down his chest, taking my time to unbutton his shirt as I went. He wore no undershirt beneath, and very soon, I had his bare chest exposed so that I could run my hands along the length of his muscles and feel his heart hammering underneath his skin.
“Are you nervous?” I asked with a smile, half joking and half serious as I peered into his eyes intently.
“Of course, I’m nervous.”
“Are you?” I asked again, genuinely surprised by his response. “But why? How could you be nervous about being with me when we’ve been together so many times before?”
“I’m always nervous when I’m with you. Every time I look at you, every time I touch your skin, there are always nerves.”
“But why?” I laughed, my hands still moving over his skin, moving down to the buckle of his belt as I liberated him from his pants. “I don’t want to make you nervous! That’s awful!”
“It’s not awful. I’m glad you make me nervous. It reminds me of how special you are. Every time I’m with you, I get to remember how lucky I am to have you. I get to remember how lucky I am that you took me back. I swear to God, Fay, I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to show you how happy you make me. There’s nothing I won’t do for you, nothing I won’t give you. I get nervous when I’m with you because you’re the only thing in this world I know I can’t live without.”
Without realizing it was happening, tears had begun to slide silently down my face, but they were happy tears, and my own little reminder of how much I had gained over the past year. I kissed him on the place where his heart lay and then pulled at his pants, standing back a little as he removed them the rest of the way.
My hand went to his long, throbbing member. My fingers ran along the length of him slowly, savoring the feeling of him beneath my fingertips. He gasped, then shut his eyes and threw his head back while my hand moved stea
dily. I could feel him growing slick as I grew slick at the same time. When neither of us could take it any longer, he gently removed my hand and led me to the bed.
He climbed on top, and then I climbed on top as well, moving my body so that I was hovering above him. When I was in position, I stopped and looked down upon him, surveying all of the wonderful things he was and reveling in the feeling of his eyes roving over me. The two of us had built quite a history for ourselves together in his bed, and despite that fact, there was something about this time that felt different to me.
This time when I looked down upon him, I knew not only that I belonged to him but that he belonged to me as well. It was the most empowering feeling I had ever experienced, and when I reached down to guide him inside of me, I cried out with immediate pleasure, already so wet I wasn’t sure that I could take much more. I hadn’t planned this interlude, hadn’t thought it was the best idea, but now that we were in the middle of it, there was nothing in the world I wanted more.
“God, Fay,” he sighed, his hands moving to my hips while his thumbs traced little circles on the sensitive skin that lived there. “God, I love you so much it hurts me.”
“Don’t let it hurt. Just love me. Just love me and let me love you back.”
We began to move at the same pace. His dick was deep inside of me. The feeling caused me to moan.
I sat up so he was deep inside of me, and I began to move my hips back and forth, rolling my body as I did so.
“That feels so good,” he said to me as his hands reached up and grasped my tits. He squeezed them, and the feeling caused me to move faster. I felt myself getting closer and closer to my climax. Then he stopped me and grabbed my hips, pulling me down so our chests were touching.
He began to move his cock in and out of me quickly.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned into his ear.
“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked.
It turned me on, and I felt myself getting closer to my release once again. Neil started moaning more, and even though we’d only had sex a few times, I knew he was getting close. “Come for me,” he said into my ear.
He moved faster, and I moved my body with him. In an instant, I felt the best release of my life. Neil wrapped his arms around me as he had his climax, and I had to admit the feeling made the end of my orgasm even more intense.
I climbed off of him and laid next to him on the bed.
“I love you, Fay. You know that, right?”
“I do,” I answered dreamily, fighting off the sleep that threatened to come in preparation of the celebrating still left to do. “I really do.”
“And do you know what else?”
“No, I don’t. Tell me?”
“This is it, Fay.”
“This is what?”
“This is it. This is the fairytale. It’s what everyone is looking for, what you were looking for. It’s the fairytale, and you and I actually found it.”
Cowboy Romance Stories
BILLIONAIRE COWBOY
Chapter 1
Celia shielded her eyes against the glaring Texan sun with the palm of her hand, this sun was going nowhere. She had just stepped off the train that had carried her from the Austin airport, and after a two-hour journey in a small cramped seat, she could feel her bones aching and her legs needing a stretch. How long would she have to wait here in the heat?
Two stuffed-to the brim suitcases lay at her feet. She had packed everything she could, everything she would need, although she wasn’t quite sure what she might actually require. She had never been to Texas before, and definitely never to such a small town.
Celia took in a deep breath and sighed. She had been standing there for over fifteen minutes now, and there was no sign of her ride.
Her grandfather had written a letter to her a month ago. Initially she had smiled when she found the letter slipped under the door of her tenth-floor apartment in New York, by the postman. Who hand wrote letters anymore? Clearly her grandfather did. But when she eventually read the letter, the smile on her face had disappeared. He was sick, very sick, and he was her only remaining family. She had to be there for him in his hour of need, there was no other choice but that.
So, Celia quit her job, not that it was much of a job. It was an internship at a fashion magazine, but it was also a stepping stone towards the actual job that she wanted. Sure, it would have taken time, a few months, maybe even a few years…but it would all be worth it. Now, quitting her job, moving to a small town in Texas to care for her grandfather was going to be a major setback. But what other choice did she have? She couldn’t simply allow her grandfather to wither away by himself.
She had written back to him, probably her first handwritten letter in several years, telling him her plan. She would quit her job and move in with him to care for him, for as long as he needed. He was her only family, she had to do this for him and for the memory of her parents who had brought her up to care for those in need.
The roar of an engine nearby distracted Celia from her thoughts and she whipped around to find a red battered truck making its way towards her, sending dust clouds up in the air in its trail. Her grandfather had mentioned a ride, but this wasn’t what she was expecting.
The truck came to a sudden halt, right in front of her feet and Celia took a few steps back in surprise. It looked like an old dusty thing, with the red paint chipped in several places, the rearview mirror broken and dangling on the side. The engine made such a great sound that it was clear that it needed major maintenance.
Celia still had her face shielded with her hand when the driver’s door creaked open and she saw the back of a man who jumped off the truck. She still didn’t know what to expect, was this definitely her ride?
“Celia Ferro?” The man banged the door shut behind him and turned to look at her, placing his hands on the burning hot hood of the car engine. There was steam rising from it, it was so hot. But he didn’t seem to notice, he kept his hands on it.
“Yes.” She replied, in a meek voice. She had obviously expected a stranger to pick her up, but not such a handsome one. This man was a cowboy through and through, the likes of which she had only ever seen in films or on TV. She hadn’t thought that people like him actually existed in real life.
He was in a dark plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. His jeans were dark too, with a wide boot cut at the bottoms. For shoes, he had ruddy dusty boots and a cowboy hat to shield his face against the sun. But the sun had definitely got to him, because his skin was darkened, and it glowed like bronze in the midday heat. His eyes were piercingly blue, and Celia dropped her gaze from his face when he looked at her, because his eyes nearly frightened her. He looked muscular and lean, like he worked outdoors all day. As hard as she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help her mind from wandering and imagining what his bare torso would look like, underneath those clothes.
“Do you have bags?” The man asked and she nodded her head.
“They’re right here.” She said and pointed to her feet.
He walked around the front of the truck silently, taking quick long steps and was by her side within seconds. She felt her muscles freeze from his closeness. She couldn’t remember the last time her body had reacted this way to the physical presence of someone else. Without a word, he picked up both the suitcases and tossed them into the open back of the van.
Celia winced when she heard the thump of the bags as they fell. She didn’t want to imagine what the state of her perfume bottles and makeup cases were going to be inside them.
“Get in.” She heard him say, and he walked back around to the driver’s side without waiting for a response from her. Celia gulped. How was she supposed to get in?
She tried pulling at the passenger door, but it wouldn’t give. The man had already climbed back into his seat. He had his hands loosely placed on the steering wheel and was watching Celia struggling to get the door open. It was like he was enjoying her trying and failing and then trying again.
S
he yanked and pulled, but the door wouldn’t budge; and the man wasn’t helping. She turned a sour face to him through the windshield, her lips quivering as she glared at him. What was wrong with him? She thought, but didn’t say anything. After she had glared at him for a good few moments, he leaned over and pushed the door open from his side. It slid open as smoothly as a knife through warm butter.
Celia tried to haul herself up into the seat, as best she could. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion, she realized as she did this. Her pencil skirt clung tightly to her thighs as she tried to wriggle into the seat, her cheeks flushed and her neck burning red from embarrassment.
He was following her every movement with keen watchful eyes, and when she turned to look at him, she realized that she hadn’t once seen him smile yet.
“Thank you.” Celia said, as politely as she could, even though she didn’t exactly want to be polite to him, when he had been nothing other than rude to her.
The man said nothing, but simply started the engine and the truck roared and came to life.
Despite the fact that she was a little offended by this man’s coldness, she still couldn’t stop herself from admiring him. She couldn’t help but imagine what a big hit this man might be in the fashion industry; with his muscular physique and sharp jaw lines, he would look good in anything, and especially delicious in nothing.
“So, you know my grandfather?” She said, trying to make conversation. He had been driving in silence for a few moments now and she was beginning to grow uncomfortable in his presence. She didn’t want to simply stare at him the whole way.
“Yes.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. Celia realized that he had barely even looked at her. The hat remained on his head as he drove, and she noticed the clenching of the muscles on his long arms as he clutched the steering wheel.
“I’ve never been to Texas before. I grew up in Chicago and recently moved to New York.” She continued, looking over at him, hoping for a reaction, for something.