by J. Kenner
“Meant it then. Mean it now.”
I choke back another sob.
“Enough about all this. You tell me what’s going on with you. How’s Ryan?”
I squeeze my eyes tight in defense against another round of tears. “He’s okay,” I say. “We’re both okay.”
“Is that a fact?” I can hear the question in his voice.
“Honestly? No.” I draw in a breath. “But we will be.” I nod, those three simple words ringing in my mind—We will be. “Listen, Dad, I have to go. I’m—I’m sorry about you and Mom. I still can’t really wrap my head around it.”
“Sometimes I can’t either. But no matter what happens, know that your mother and I both love you very much.”
“I know,” I whisper.
I hang up and sit there at the table for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes. My mind is churning with thoughts that are too hard to pin down because they’re flickering too fast, more emotion than reason. More heart than mind.
I draw in a deep breath.
I can do this. I can overcome my fear.
I have to. Because the only thing I fear more than the great unknown of marriage is the certainty that I’ll lose Ryan forever if I don’t let him put a ring on my finger.
I attach my phone to a small tripod, set it to video mode, and focus it on the couch.
Right now, I know exactly what I need to do.
Because smart or foolish, right or wrong, the bottom line is that I’ll never really have a guarantee. I’ll never be completely certain about anything I do with Ryan or with my life. All I can do is believe.
Right now, the thing I believe the most in is Ryan.
Chapter Nine
I consider texting him the video, but this is something I want to hand to him personally. And since I happen to know where to find him, I make the short drive over the hill to the club on Sunset Boulevard.
Fortunately, Damien added my name to the VIP list long ago, so I walk past the line and ease into the crowded venue. It’s a Thursday, so the crowd is slightly less packed than it’ll be come tomorrow, but that’s not saying much.
I maneuver my way through the throng, trying to find Ryan in the sea of faces and the colored light reflected from the dance floor.
Since I’m having no luck, I head to the bar and signal for a drink. The bartender knows me and he nods in acknowledgement. While I wait, I turn and let my gaze roam the crowd one more time.
Nothing.
I’m just about to turn back to the bar to grab my Scotch when I see him. He’s on the far side of the room, about to go up the stairs that lead to the manager’s private office. And there’s a very stacked blonde right beside him.
Seriously?
Two days since he gives me an ultimatum?
Less than two hours since he confirmed that he loves me and wants to marry me, but says that it’s all on me?
Not even a fucking week before he’s hitting on a blonde in a tight knit dress?
Really? Really?
I gulp down my drink, leave a twenty on the bar, and push my way through the crowd. They’re halfway up the stairs when I pound up behind them, then tug at Ryan’s elbow.
“Jamie!”
“Do you want to explain yourself?”
For a second he looks confused, but when I shift my gaze quickly to blondie, he actually has the nerve to let his confusion morph into amusement. “No,” he says. “I don’t think I need to explain. I think the situation is perfectly clear.”
“What happened to you love me? What happened to you want to put a ring on my finger? Are you planning to put a ring on her finger, too? Are you—”
“Wait,” the girl says. “A ring? What?” She shifts her attention from me to Ryan. “Mr. Hunter, if you need some time to talk to—”
“Mr. Hunter?” I repeat. For a moment, I’m legitimately confused. But that confusion only lasts a second or two.
Soon enough, it fades away, replaced by something much, much worse: abject mortification.
“Oh,” I say, trying on a smile. “Um, who are you?”
“Delaney Dawson,” she says.
“Ms. Dawson is the new security specialist for Westerfield’s,” Ryan explains.
“Really?” I flash my most camera-ready smile. “Wow. Well. Congratulations. Everyone here is great. I’m sure you’re going to really enjoy working with everyone at Westerfield’s.”
“I’m sure I will, too.” Her smile is a little too bright, and I think she’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“Delaney,” Ryan says, “I realize this may be a little inconvenient, but do you think we could continue this briefing tomorrow? I need to speak with Ms. Archer alone.”
“Not a problem,” she says. She meets my eyes, amusement twinkling in hers. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Yeah,” I say, waving a limp hand after her as she heads back down the stairs. “A pleasure.” I swallow. “Ryan, I’m so, so—”
“With me,” he says, hurrying the rest of the way up to the management office. He pulls me inside, then slams the door behind us. And, I notice, he locks it.
“Ryan—”
But he shakes his head, silencing me, his expression like a wolf on the prowl. He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back, then another and another until I’m right in front of the wall of one-way glass that looks down on the dance floor below.
“You thought I was fucking Ms. Dawson?”
“Well, I...yeah.”
He steps closer still, and now my back is to the glass and he’s right in front of me, so close I can feel his heat and smell the scent of him, like earth and musk.
“If you’re not with me, I’m a free man, Jamie. That means I can fuck whomever I want. Right?”
I swallow, but I don’t speak. The thought of him with another woman is so horrible I can’t quite wrap my mind around it, much less my words.
“But here’s the thing, kitten. I don’t want anybody else. Not to fuck. Not to hang out with in front of the television. You’ve destroyed me, Jamie.” He reaches out, then cups my face in his palm. “You’ve destroyed me completely. And for that, I think you need to be punished.”
“I—what?” My head is certain I’ve heard him wrong. But my body is right with the program. Heat has pooled between my thighs, and my nipples are tight against the lace bra I wore under the sheath dress I’d put on for dinner with Hunter’s family.
“Turn around, baby,” he orders. “Put your hands on the glass.”
I do, and as I stare out at the dancers beyond, relief explodes through me, along with a wild desire that is so palpable it makes my skin burn. Ryan pulls up my dress, then rips down my panties. “Is this what you want?” he asks. “For me to take you hard and fast? To punish you for thinking I could ever fuck another woman?”
“Yes,” I say. “Oh, please, yes.”
His hands slide over my ass, and he spreads me wide. “Christ, you’re wet. I love it when you’re wet for me.”
His finger teases my core, slipping in and out of me as he lowers his zipper with his other hand. Then his hands are on my hips and his cock is at my center. He eases inside me, and I gasp, watching the dancers writhing beneath us as he fills me.
His fingers stroke my clit, expertly taking me to the edge. He keeps me there, teetering on the precipice as he pumps hard into me, lost in the rhythm of the music. Hard and fast with an increasing frenzy. Like an ancient dance. A mating ritual.
A claiming.
When he comes, he cries out my name, and I explode in his arms, my core milking his cock as he comes inside me, filling me completely.
When he cleans me up with a nearby tissue, he is tender and gentle and sweet. And then he picks me up and cradles me as he walks over to the sofa and carefully puts me down.
I’m sitting there, my skirt twisted awkwardly, my body still on fire, when he kneels in front of me. “I want you, Jamie. I want you to be my wife, but if you can’t handle that, then okay. If
this is what you want—the two of us together with no vows to bind us, then that’s what you can have.”
He draws a breath. “There’s nothing I can deny you, Jamie. And god knows I won’t force you to do something you don’t want to do. I want you to be my wife, yes. But I’ll take you any way I can have you.”
I sit perfectly still for a moment. “Ryan,” I finally say. “Are you sure?”
He drags his fingers through his hair, his shoulders rising and falling as he sighs. “Sure? The only thing I’m sure about is you, kitten. Do you think these last few days have been easy on me? Do you think I’ve been playing a game?”
I start to open my mouth, but he presses his finger to my lips and shakes his head. “I want you as my wife, make no mistake. But I can’t lose you. Seeing you at dinner with my mother and sister drove that home. And, yeah, you helped drive it home, too,” he adds with a wry grin, as he lays his palm over his cheek where I slapped him.
“I’m sorry,” I manage to say before he taps his finger on my lip in a not-so-subtle reminder that I’m not supposed to be speaking.
“Thanks for that. But the truth is, I’m sorry, too. I took the righteous high road. But when it comes right down to it, we both want the same thing. And it’s no more fair of me to insist we get married than it is for you to insist we don’t. And when I looked at it that way, I couldn’t keep the fight up. Because you’re the thing I’m most sure about in my life.”
He brushes my cheek, and it’s only then that I realize that I’m crying and that he’s brushing away a tear.
“I can’t lose you, kitten. And if I don’t have a choice, then so be it.”
I swallow because this is my out-clause. My Door Number Two.
This is the result I’d wanted, and Ryan has handed it to me as a gift.
I should sit back down and be done.
Except that’s not what I want now.
I want everything.
And so instead of sitting, I go to my purse and grab my phone. I hand it to him. “It’s a Valentine’s Day present. I didn’t give it to you on Tuesday because, well...”
“You’re giving me your phone?”
I cock my head and raise an eyebrow as I go sit next to him. “A video,” I say, finding the app. “I, um, originally planned to do this whole reporter theme, where I reported on all your virtues. But I didn’t do that.”
“No? Did you decide I don’t have any virtues?”
“Haha. No, I just decided on a slightly different approach. So...” I wave my hand. “Go ahead. Watch it.”
He looks at me, his mouth twitching with obvious amusement, then presses the icon to start the video playing. A split second later, there I am on the screen. Slightly off-center since I hadn’t lined the camera up exactly where it should be.
“Um, yeah. So, this was supposed to be something different. A glowing report of all of your virtues. But, well, I guess it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. And that’s a good thing because I keep changing mine.”
I clear my throat.
“Anyway, here’s the thing...”
I trail off as I stand up, and for a moment, my head disappears off the top of the screen. Then it reappears when I lower to one knee. “I’ve been an idiot,” I say. “A scared of my own shadow kind of idiot. But I’m not scared anymore.”
I lick my lips and look straight into the camera. “I want to get married. I want to marry you in Vegas, where it all began. In a tacky little chapel without all the noise of a big wedding. I want to elope, Ryan. I want to go right now. This minute.”
I exhale.
“I guess what I’m saying is this—Ryan Hunter, will you marry me?”
Then I smile, a little uncertain. “So, that’s it. Um, okay...”
And I stand up and walk out of frame. A second later, the video ends.
“I didn’t have time to edit it,” I say, turning to see him staring at me with a look of wonder and adoration on his face. “I just shot it and then came to find you because I wanted you to see it, and—”
“Yes,” he says.
My breath hitches. “You mean—”
“Yes. Yes, kitten, I’ll marry you.”
He pulls me onto his lap so that I am straddling him. I laugh with delight, especially when I see that he looks as happy as I feel.
“Kiss me,” I demand, and he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth closes over mine, and he kisses me deeply. Passionately. The kind of kiss I feel all the way down to my toes and everywhere in between.
I shift forward so that my core rubs against his already hard cock. I’m breathing hard, and so is he. Slowly, he lifts my dress, then slides his finger between us. My panties are still by the window, and the sensation of his finger against my slick skin makes my body tingle.
“Make love to me,” I say, looking into his eyes as I open his fly. His cock is hard and ready, and I lower myself onto him, claiming what is mine. “Make love to me slowly.”
“Whatever you want,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to the side of my mouth. “Anything you want. For tonight,” he says. “And for the rest of our lives.”
Chapter Ten
“You do realize that usually there aren’t invited guests to an elopement.” Nikki frowns thoughtfully at my hair as she talks, and I sit still in front of the mirror and remind myself that after as many pageants as she’s been in, Nikki knows how to wield a curling iron.
“Is that even a word?”
“It is now,” she says. “Okay, last strand. Now I just have to pin it up.”
My hair is normally wavy, but it takes curl well, and now it’s a mass of loose curls that frame my face. It’s a little wild. Frankly, it reminds me of sex.
And I know that Ryan will like it just like this. “No,” I say, holding up my hand. “Leave it. It’s sexy.”
She starts to protest—I know her so well I can just see it on her face—but then she just nods. “Let’s get you dressed,” she says as I take another sip of champagne.
“Pass me your phone,” I demand, and she complies with a roll of her eyes, then laughs as I program in a personalized ringtone just for me—Chapel of Love, the classic by The Dixie Cups. “Now you’ll never doubt it’s me,” I say, tipsy but oh, so happy.
Because this is my wedding day. And I’m already at the chapel.
I’d meant what I said in the video—I wanted a Vegas wedding at a tacky Vegas chapel.
And, yes, I’d wanted to elope. But I figure we make our own rules, and so there’s nothing wrong with inviting Nikki and Damien, who flew in for the night from Austin. After all, she’s my best friend in the world.
And Ryan can’t get married without his sister and his mother. That just wouldn’t be right. So they’re already inside the chapel, waiting for me to change.
As for the rest of our friends and family...well, I’m all about the after-party.
“Okay, we’re almost out of time,” Nikki says. This little chapel only gives each bride thirty minutes to prep. “Let’s get you zipped.” I stand, and she reaches behind me and inches up the zipper. The dress is white and flowing, albeit simple. It’s also just a little bit sexier than your traditional virginal white.
Ryan, I think, is going to love it.
“Am I ready?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she answers. “Are you?”
I look at her and think of Ryan. “Yeah,” I say as we head for the double wooden doors. “Let’s go.”
Tinny organ music starts the moment she pushes the door open for me. I step inside, take a deep breath, and look toward the front of the room.
Ryan is there, dressed in a dark blue suit and looking as happy as I’ve ever seen him.
I want to run to him, but I force myself to walk down the short aisle as Nikki moves off to the side to stand by Damien.
I continue, savoring this moment. The way Ryan looks at me. The smile on his face. The love in his eyes.
I reach his side and take his hand in mine. “Hey, kitten,” h
e says, in a whisper meant only for me.
I hide my smile as I focus on the preacher, who goes through the familiar words that bind me to this man. My man.
Finally, he asks if I take him, Ryan, to be my husband. And that’s when I say the words I’ve been waiting to voice. The only words that matter.
“Yes,” I say emphatically. “I do.”
As the words leave my lips, I know with absolute certainly that this is the man I’m meant to spend my life with.
“I love you, Jamie Hunter,” he says, once he’s been given permission to kiss the bride. And as his lips claim mine in our first marital kiss, I close my eyes and let myself get swept away in warmth and love and joy.
We’re starting a brand new adventure, I realize. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us.
<<<<>>>>
Also from 1001 Dark Nights and J. Kenner, discover Tame Me, Hold Me, Caress of Darkness, and Caress of Pleasure.
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