Extra Extra (Working Girl Series Book 1)

by CY Jones

  Chaz styled my hair to perfection. Half braided in a crown on top of my head and the rest flowing down my back in soft silky waves. My makeup is flawless, bold, making its own statement. This is my armor and this wedding is nothing more than a battle.

  Sitting in the front row with his hands folded on his lap is The Turd’s father. The mastermind behind all of this. The Turd did not come up with this plan on his own, if at all. I believe The Turd when he told me he tried to call this sham of a wedding off. This mess is all his father’s fault. “Mark my words. That horrible man’s ambitions will one day ruin them,” Sophia comments.

  For all Drew’s faults, he’s not vindictive. Tom Chatworth, on the other hand, is a fiend. But I do take great pleasure that he appears to be about as happy to be here as I am. I’m sure the thought of us sharing the same last name is as repulsive to him as it is to me. He always wanted better for his son, and with all his planning and interference, he still ended up with me. The expression on his face is priceless. He’s not pleased with my choice of dress, but too bad. Rebecca would have made the perfect docile daughter-in-law. This is what you get when you con a wolf in sheep's clothing.

  Although they aren’t family, sitting beside him in the front pews is Nathaniel Bishop and his wife. Unlike everyone else, he likes what I’m wearing. His dark eyes trace my body hungrily as I walk down the aisle, marching to my death song. “Maybe we should have requested they play Miley Cyrus “Prisoner”,” Gloria comments. I have to fight back my smile because she’s right.

  Nathaniel and I are both predators and to him I’m the ultimate challenge. A worthy opponent he wants to conquer. Each one of my outbursts, every time I defy my soon-to-be-husband and refuse to play ball or follow the social norms his kind ‘rich folks’ were raised to abide by, like his pretty trinket of a wife Victoria, probably turns the asshole on. I’m not doing myself any favors right now, but here I am. The real Brooklyn Hartford. I refuse to cower and hide.

  Standing up front with a proud look on his face full of confidence is Andrew Chatworth, my fiancé and soon to be husband. This is the first time I recognized his name past my loving nickname for the douchebag since he first betrayed me. “Why now?” Sophia asks softly.

  “It’s because I have given up on him, period. He’s nothing to me. Fiancé, husband, his title doesn’t matter anymore because he doesn’t matter. A nickname no matter how bad it is screams ‘I care’ when the honest to God truth is, I don’t. Any feeling I had for him drowned in the sea after he came clean on the beach.” My words may be harsh, but they are the truth.

  “And what about us? Have you given up on us as well? You know we don’t want to marry him,” Sophia questions.

  “We’ve been over this already. There's nothing else we can do but stay the course,” I remind her.

  I’m so sick and tired of this same argument. How many times have we had it before the wedding? Too many for me to remember. “There’s plenty we can still do. You’re giving up too easily,” Gloria chimes in. “For example, we can pop lock down the aisle, the running man, any-fucking-thing. You’re already wearing a red wedding dress. It won’t take much to convince everyone here we’re crazy. Let me take over and I’ll give a real show and send Drew running for the hills, thanking his lucky stars he didn’t go through with this marriage.”

  “A tempting offer, but I doubt it’ll work. Drew is in too deep to turn back now. He said as much at the beach.”

  With a scathing look, Chaz gives me away to Drew, who smiles down at me warmly despite knowing how much I don’t want to be here. He doesn’t seem upset at my choice of wedding gowns. He’s probably relieved I’m here at all after our last conversation. I made sure to not get back to the city until the last possible moment, risking the craziness of traveling on Christmas Eve, hoping divine intervention would kick in and delay my arrival. No such luck. Where’s a snow storm when a girl needs one? Instead, it’s sunny and clear outside, if a bit cold.

  My mind wanders as the reverend drowns on about love, reciting a sermon he has done a million times over with the expectation of Drew and I making promises to each other neither one of us plan to keep. I’m exhausted. It was impossible to sleep on the plane, then Chaz and I were up all night, making blood promises and gorging ourselves on ice cream and did not make it to bed until early dawn. I wonder if it would be terribly offensive to the reverend if I fall asleep standing up? Maybe in doing so, my lack of interest will help push him along so we can get this shit show on the road. Our vows are total bullshit anyways, not worth the time took to memorize them.

  When he finally gets to the good part, the point I’ve been waiting for before we lie before God and our honored guests, I wait on bated breath as I stare down Drew’s repulsive father when the reverend asks, “Who here has any objections to this marriage?” Come on, dude. We both know if anyone has any objections, it’s you. Why bite your tongue now, asshole? But unfortunately, he says nothing. “Fucking coward,” Shelly hiss.

  Silence. One beat. Two. Birds chirping. Nothing. My hopes crash because that asshole is not going to say anything and neither is anyone else here. My gaze switches to Chaz, who opens his mouth, but closes it at a slight shake of my head. It can’t be us who stops this. We’ve gone this far. I might as well see it through.

  “Brooklyn Kathryn Hartford, do you...”

  The doors to the church slam open with a loud boom, filling the church with bright light from the sun and within that sunlight is my avenging angel, my savior, if I’m the reason why he’s here. “Well, duh, why else would he be here?” Nancy says, rolling her eyes. I wished for a miracle and here he is, a broken man on a mission. I thought I would never see him again. That I lost him. But I was wrong and I couldn’t be happier.

  My heart races, beating with renewed life. My skin flushes, despite the shock channeling through my body. Tears spring to my eyes, ruining my makeup, and through the blurriness, I watch Justin stride up to me with sure confident steps; never wavering his gaze from mine. Love. True love is a powerful force. More so than all the riches in the world or one foolish man’s fucked up ambitions. Like a dream, he’s before me and with a clear and proud voice, he says without a shadow of a doubt in his tone, “I object.”

  “Who the hell are you? What is the meaning of this?” Tom roars, jumping to his feet. Gasps ring out around the church as those in attendance murmur about the turn of events. This has got to be one of the most scandalous weddings they have ever gone to. Newsworthy enough that even I’d report it. But I don’t hear any of it. All I see is him. He’s here. For me. “Told you he was a keeper,” all the voices in my head chime.

  Ignoring Drew’s father, Justin gets on one knee right before me and his green gaze traps my hazel holding me captive in their heavenly glow. When realization hits me like a slap to the face, tears overflow running a river down my cheeks as my body shakes. “Hell yes!” Gloria cheers, fucking ecstatic. I’m sure she’s happy Justin is as insane as she is.

  “Brooklyn, my love. There never has been a love story quite like ours. You were a surprise to me, like I’m sure I was to you. When we met, I was drowning in regret, so sure I’d never find happiness again, and then you came along like a force of nature and knocked me off my feet. My mother told me I would meet my other half at Paige’s wedding and she was right. You opened my eyes. Helped me forgive myself. Gathered all the pieces of my broken heart and glued them together with your love. You’re a firecracker that never fades. You taught me what it means to fight and here I am, laying my newly repaired heart bare before you. Still fragile, yet you are the only one it beats for. I love you, my dark angel. Will you marry me?”

  One second. Two. Three. My heart is jumping all over the place. Never in a million years did I expect this. That Justin would swoop in like a knight in a perfectly tailored Armani suit to save me. I’m transfixed by the green glow of his eyes as he stares up at me with some much love and convection shining through them. You would have to be blind not to be moved.
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br />   Grabbing my other hand, Drew brings it to his lips and brushes a soft kiss against my knuckles. Slowly, my gaze leaves Justin's and turns to him. I was expecting to see fury. Jealousy even. But neither is present in his blue depths. Instead, all I see is acceptance. Softly, for my ears only, he murmurs, “I love you, Brooklyn. I probably always will. I only want to see you happy, so if he is who you want to be with, then I won’t get in your way.” Surprise flickers in my head. Twice today a man has rendered me speechless with a crazy ass, unexpected grand jesture.

  “Yes,” I say with tears in my eyes once I find my voice. “Yes, I’ll marry you... Justin.”

  With a loud shout of triumph, Justin clambers quickly to his feet and pulls me into his embrace, twirling us around in a circle. I’ve never seen him happier. The wide smile on his face is bright, shining like a shooting star. Then his lips are on mine, devouring me as if we are already man and wife.

  “Fuck, firecracker, I love you,” he murmurs against my lips and I kiss him back, showing him with my mouth how much I love him too.

  “That was hands down the best wedding I have ever gone to,” Chaz chirps from the driver seat of the Cadillac SUV we came here in. In the back, Justin sits beside me with my hand held tightly in his. I don’t think he has let it go since I told him I’d marry him.

  “It was certainly entertaining,” I tell him, smiling a big sappy smile. I don’t think I've ever been this happy before.

  “Really? What part?” Justin says in a teasing voice.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was the part where the handsome prince saved the badass warrior princess from the big mean dragon.”

  “You think I’m handsome?” he asks, moving closer, his lips a breath away from mine.

  “Very,” I whisper, closing the space.

  “Hey, hey, none of that. Wait until I’m out of sight before you start sucking face. I rather not see my sister’s lady bits,” Chaz gripes.

  “Don’t be such a prude,” I tell him, but he has a point. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from jumping Justin’s bones back here if we keep at it. Already, my cunt is soaking my lace panties and dress. Good thing this car is rented because I’m sure to leave a wet spot behind. With more patience than I thought I had, I refrain from jumping Justin until we get back to the townhouse. Once there, all bets are off. Chaz might want to find somewhere else to be for a couple of hours. “Or a couple of days,” Shelly adds.

  It’s a whirlwind from Chaz dropping us off and yelling for us to make good choices, he’s not ready to be an uncle yet before peeling off, and Justin carrying me into the house bridal style and into my bedroom. Once he has me where he wants me, he sets me down and kisses me with so much passion, my brain fries. Our mouths duel it out in a battle of who missed each other more, but unlike before, this time is special because now we’re no longer unsure of our feelings for one another. I am his and he is mine. Case closed. We are a match conjured by the stars where we had to fight like hell to make come true.

  “Fuck, firecracker, I almost lost you,” he says, pulling back. The look in his gaze destroys me. No one has ever loved me this much.

  “I thought I did lose you,” I tell him honestly.

  “Never,” he whispers, kissing me deeply.

  Our hands work in tandem discarding each other's clothes and tossing them to the hardwood floors until we’re both completely naked. Walking me backwards he leads me to the bed and pushes me onto the mattress. I bounce once and that’s how long it takes before his body covers mine and his lips are back, devouring me like I’m his last meal. Pushing us further on the bed, his lips trace my body as it gets reacquainted. He’s driving me crazy, but I don’t have the willpower to rush him because everywhere he touches feels so damn good.

  His fingers tingle across my skin, sending shivers in his wake. His lips are divine, two pillows of pleasure that can make me do whatever he asks. But it’s the emotions that seep out of his body that undoes me. Never have I ever felt this loved before. Justin is the key to my cracked soul. I cannot leave without him to set me free.

  Sliding to his knees, in a primal move, he spreads my legs and holds them apart, opening me to him to do as he pleases. Moving closer, the tip of his nose grazes my slit and he takes a deep whiff before moaning. “Fuck, you smell so good. Spicy with a sweet coconut scent.” I’m too aroused to be the least bit embarrassed, especially when his tongue skips along the same path his nose took until it’s diving in like it’s digging for gold. “Fuck, this man is a rock star at eating pussy,” Shelly praises. It takes a lot for her to be impressed, but I’m not surprised. Justin is a sex god.

  His tongue fucks me like his cock, moving in and out of me before licking my walls. He takes his sweet time devouring me, shaking his head like a wet dog thoroughly enjoying my taste. I’m putty in his hands and when he sucks on my hardened nub, I scream his name so loud, I’m certain the neighbors would call the cops under the assumption I’m getting murdered. Amused, he chuckles darkly, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me.

  I try to fight him. My primal side wanting us to be on equal ground, but he holds me down, devouring me with his talented tongue and continues his war on my pussy until he’s the winner. Tightly fisting the sheets, I bulk against him, arching my back from his ministrations as he holds me firmly, licking and sucking until I can’t take it anymore and raise my white flag, exploding on his tongue until I see actual firecrackers of his victory behind my lids.

  “Umm, my name screamed out your sinful mouth is my favorite song. Sing for me, baby,” is my only warning when he dives back in and completely wrecks me.

  After my second orgasm, he moves up my body, sucking a path to my lips and kisses me deeply. I can taste myself, taste us mixed together in a speciality ordered drink. My shaky legs wrap around his trim waist and I bulk against him, urging him to sink his hard cock inside me. All this build up is going to be the death of me. I need him inside of me now. Getting the hint, he braces his body over mine. The tip of his cock toes my entrance, slowly nudging in before backtracking, just to do it again.

  “Don’t play with me, Justin. I’m likely to kill you.”

  “So impatient,” he chuckles against my ear and I shiver from the feel of his warm breath against the sensitive skin. I open my mouth to, I don’t know, tell him off for being a cocky shit, but instead, I shout his name for all to hear when he plows through me with one hard thrust all the way to his balls. His big cock slides home, opening me up and he gives me half a second to adjust before he starts to move.

  And move he does. He fucks me with all the emotions he’s been bottling up inside as his dick uses my G-spot as target practice while he gets all his aggression out. His name is already branded inside me and his cock retrace those letters, renewing his claim on me. This is a contract forged in mind-blowing sex and can never ever be broken. He-owns-me.

  His eyes glow, sweat glisten on his body, dripping from his forehead to mine and my skin absorbs it, taking everything he has to offer like a precious gift. I never want to be without this man again. We weren’t meant to be apart. Tears leak from my eyes. I’m overwhelmed with so much emotion. The overwhelming relief of having him with me again is all-consuming. His eyes spark with understanding and he licks the salty trail before kissing me just as intensely as he’s fucking me. “Fuck,” I moan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re a G.” My words are incoherent. All circuits in my brain are currently fried. All I know is our equation. Him plus me times forever equals happiness and that’s all that really matters.

  The sound of slapping skin and moans fills the bedroom as we give the bed one hell of a workout. Justin’s thrusts increase going deeper and he moves inside me faster, drumming to his own beat. My nails scratch down his back like a cat, marking him, my own personal brand that says ‘fuck off he’s mine’ and I cum so damn hard I almost back out. Pleased with himself, he smiles against my skin before he rolls us until I’m on top of him and he grabs my hips in a firm hold.

 
“Ride me, firecracker. I want to watch your tits bounce.” Fuck, his dirty mouth. How can I deny him?

  I do as he asks. Slow at first, grinding on top of him in a seductive dance. Bending forward, my palms make a path up his smooth chest and he closes his eyes as he moans my name. When he opens them, they spark with arousal and his restraint snaps and he tilts his hips, moving in an unrelenting pace, making my tits bounce in a personalized dance for his enjoyment.

  “Shit yes. Just like that, firecracker. Fuck, I love your tits. So big and so damn perfect.”

  At his words, I clench my pussy and he growls as I squeeze his dick. His mouth latches onto my tit, licking and sucking like a newborn babe while his palm presses my back, bending me to him. Simultaneously, his dick plows inside me, proving men can indeed multitask when it’s worth their while. I moan again loudly, shouting his name to the rooftops until I explode on top of him, cumming for the fourth fucking time, but this time, I take him with me, my pussy milking his big cock of its seed.

  Exhausted, I fall on top of him, breathing hard and he holds me there with his arm around me. Neither of us speak, both recuperating from that epic fuck.

  20

  Consequences

  Two days of non-stop fucking is nearly not enough with Justin, but that’s all the time Chaz was willing to give us before coming back to the townhouse and pounding on my bedroom door. “Up and at 'em, lovebirds, we have shit to do.”

  “Can I kill him? Justin murmurs against my thigh. He says it’s the best place to rest because he loves eating me out and it’s easy access to my cunt. Who am I to disagree with that logic?

  “No, I like him, so no killing.”