by Nicole Snow
“Leave that shit in the past, baby. It's done. After the crap I just went through, they'll probably shove me behind a desk for awhile and pump me for intel on everything I saw. I'm gonna be here in the Bay for a long time, babe. We'll make up for every day we missed together. Every fucking second. We're gonna do it twice as hard.”
“I can't wait!” She says it with such enthusiasm my dick jerks, lively and hungry in record time. “Don't ever leave me again.”
“I don't plan on it, Delia. Not ever.”
And I prove it by grabbing her ass and pulling her into me.
15
His (Delia)
A few days later, we're all back at the house. We're sitting across the table from dad, and I can't believe how well it's going.
“Look, this whole thing is weird, and I'm not going to pretend it's got my full support,” dad says, cautious and businesslike. “But you two, together, that's something I can live with in time. Your mother had me all twisted up, pointing my anger and disgust in all the wrong directions, Chris. I realize that now.”
“I knew I'd bring you on board, Bruce. You're a reasonable man – too reasonable to put up with her shit forever. Where is she?”
I grab Chris' hand and squeeze. He doesn't even know. I'm not sure he cares about his mother anymore either, and I won't blame him one bit if he wants to cut her from his life forever.
“She took off up the west coast last I heard. She wanted to cut town pretty fast after our last meeting in court. It was a wipe out. She made her last stand, and the boys I hired crushed her demands like a bug.”
I can't help but grin at that. Putting Evie in her place is bringing dad's confidence back, and I hope he'll have a sane new woman at his side next year.
Still, it's not like their relationship was a complete disaster. I look at Chris, then at my dad, wiggling my fingers in my SEAL's hand.
Would I have him at my side if we'd never been anything but a one night fling on the beach? Would I be his if we hadn't been through love and hate, forced to confront our demons thanks to their screwed up marriage?
“As crazy as she is, we ought to be thanking her,” I say softly, waiting for both men to look at me like I'm the one who's nuts. “She brought us all together.”
Dad leans back in his chair and takes a long sip of his beer. “Yeah, I suppose the psycho bitch did.”
“I'll dissent. If she hadn't held us back with that fucked up marriage, I'd have had you sooner.” Chris shoots me a sharp look, and his hold on my hand tightens.
I blush, but can't resist smiling, even as dad frowns across the table. Mister Blunt catches himself.
“I meant everything I said in that damned email,” he says, locking eyes with dad. “I love this girl.”
I'm sure my heart skips about ten beats as he pulls me onto his lap and puts his mouth on mine right there. At first, I can feel dad's hesitation, a shred of his disgust. But when I look back, I'm wrong.
He's actually smiling with his eyes, studying us, watching like we've managed to capture something that's eluded him his entire life.
“If you don't mind, Bruce, I'm gonna take her for a walk. It's decent out there today and we'd better enjoy it.”
By Bay Area standards, it's actually fairly chilly. It doesn't stop him from pulling me into his arms and helping me into my coat. Then we're off, riding in his brand new truck, something he picked up after coming home with some of his big bonus. The old one would've been fine with a few repairs, but he wants a clean slate.
He wants to start over, and I'm read for anything, as long as I'm at his side.
Chris is oddly tight-lipped the whole trip. I recognize dad's private beachfront as we're pulling into it.
“Really? Jesus, it's going to be like forty degrees out here by the water!”
“You've got me for warmth, babe, and that's all you need. There's something we've gotta get done by Christmas. Come on.”
He kills his ignition and steps out, heading down to the beach. Cold or not, I'm curious, and I follow quickly behind him, as fast as my new boots will carry me.
He can't keep his eyes or hands off me since I broadened my wardrobe. I'm going to need it for the internship coming up now that I've got my degree. Dressing to impress landed me a SEAL, and it's going to get me an awesome job too.
The breeze isn't as bad as I expected. The Pacific looks stormy as ever, slapping the sands in loud, angry waves. Chris stands next to the little bar he took me behind our first night, after I watched him coming out of the sea like something from a legend.
My warrior prince. My destiny.
It's all true, as cliché and campy as it sounds.
“This is where it all started,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “You remember that night like I do, babe? I relived it a thousand times while those fucks were bashing me in the face.”
“Of course. It's all that kept me from breaking down every night too. I mean, that night and all the others, everything we've had together. Here all alone, trying not to click on the latest news to see if they'd executed you...”
I don't mean to tell him about that, but it all comes seeping out.
“I'm alive, and so are you.” He parts my legs and pulls me in, grinding my hips on his, reminding me how alive and insatiable he really is when I feel the bulge. “Believe it or not, I didn't drag you here to fuck.”
“No?” That surprises me.
I was sure he had something kinky in mind. Maybe he'd throw me down in the sand, strip off my clothes, and force me to get warm with him on this cool, December beach. Why do my nipples feel so hard just thinking about?
“That's for later. You'll ride me all goddamned night after I show you this.”
What's he doing!? The world condenses and swells a little brighter as I feel him put his lips on mine, then watch as he sinks to his knees.
He grabs my hand with the same ferocious confidence he always carries, only now it's stronger, mysterious. When I see his other hand reach into his pocket, producing a little black box, I almost pass out.
“Oh my God! Chris, are you...?” I bite my tongue.
I need to let him speak. If this is what I think it is, riding him is just the beginning of how we're going to spend our night.
He pops the box open and I catch a glimpse of a gold ring studded with jewels. Big rocks, far more than any SEAL ought to be able to afford. It looks antique too, and I want to pick it up, but my eyes are too glued to him to do it.
“Marry me, Delia Burr.” It's a command, not a request, and I smile so hard my cheeks sting. “You burned me up the first time I ever got my hands on you, and showed me how good a woman can be in Vegas. I killed for you, and I'll die for you too. Something this intense only comes along once in a lifetime. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it slip away. We started out fucking, having fun. I teased you like you were my kid sis, and I loved you like it too. I love you more now, and I want the entire package. I want forever. No retreat, no going back, and no regrets.”
He stands up, shoving the warm ring against my palm, holding it there so tight and hot it's like my palm is on a heating rock.
“You feel that, babe? That's our entire future. Everything I'm gonna do to you. This world's a cold and dark goddamned place at times, and you're my light. You'll be my wife, plus the hottest mom I'd ever want for my kids. You'll have time to write more stories with a smile on your face in between how knocked up I'll be keeping you.”
“So confident,” I say softly, barely able to speak through the giddy, heartwarming storm in my blood. “What if I say no? What if I want to take things a little slower, just to wear your bad boy act down, take the edges off?”
He grins and chuckles. “I'll break you first. Stop fucking around, woman. I know you want the entire package, and I'm the best one you'll ever have.”
I can't help it anymore. The way his palm keeps pressing into mine, wiggling the hot, circular metal against our skin, like he's previewing the rest
of my life.
“Okay – yes! Yes, Chris. I'm ready to be Mrs. Cleveland.”
There. I said it. I'm suddenly wishing for an icy breeze to blow in from the Pacific, something to keep me from feeling like I'm about to melt through the ground.
Chris goes nuts. He grabs me by the wrist, stretches my hand out, and pushes the ring on my finger. It's a good fit. The right fit.
I have about two seconds to admire the strange new wonder on my hand before he picks me up and flings me around, tossing me high before he pulls me back to him. I crash into his arms and land with a kiss.
His teeth sink into my bottom lip, hungrier than ever. My hands dig at his shoulders, desperate to get naked, famished to feel the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life devouring me.
It's a long, cold make out session on the beach. Probably the last time we'll visit this place before the sun shines warm and high again.
But with him, there's always a spark, always a fire. I start crying when the realization hits me that we're going to be enjoying it for the rest of our lives.
Seven Months Later
Our next trip to Vegas begins in a whirlwind. It's a quick, luxurious wedding, a fusion of my dad's wealth and Chris' military honor that's so magical it's almost surreal.
I meet everyone in his SEAL team, plus several other guys he goes back years with. He meets my entire extended family, including my ice cold mother.
She's easy to handle after Evie. Nothing's going to ruin what's coming. Mom also spends half the wedding glaring at my dad, seething quietly at how happy he looks with the lively new redhead on his arm.
Jenny is the complete opposite of Evie, a bubbly anthropology professor with a good heart and a dash of her own special awkwardness that melds with dad's just perfectly. I smile when I watch them, wondering if Chris and I will be just as cute someday when we're older.
Then the pleasantries vanish. Next thing I know, dad's leading me down the aisle, and I think he's tearing up just as much as me.
My knees don't start shaking until Chris grabs my hands at the altar. He never takes his eyes off me – not for a single second – while the minister rattles off lip service to the heavens to appease our older relatives.
Good thing they don't have a clue we shacked up from our parents' failed marriage. Their arrangement was mercifully brief, and nobody's connected the dots.
It's our dirty little secret, and it makes us one of a kind. He's being so well behaved, standing there in his full dress uniform, a few new medals lining his breast.
God, he looks princely, and I should be ashamed for soaking the fancy new lace panties I'm wearing underneath my gown. I mentally count the seconds, trying to listen to everything the wiry old man next to us says, talking about our vows.
I don't need a reminder. I'm going to love and serve this man until the day and I die, and I know he'll do the same for me. Mostly, I can't wait to feel him carry me to our room later, lay me on the bed, and give me everything my body's been aching for the last three months.
Kiss the bride.
I hear him say it and look up, darting away from Chris. Big mistake. The SEAL pulls me in with the same rough precision that always makes me gasp. His hands pinch around my waist and he rips my veil back, twining his tongue with mine, the way he does before he rips my clothes off and sinks into me.
But we can't do that here. Not yet.
Sweet Jesus. I don't know how I'm going to survive an entire evening of being teased at the dinner reception. Maybe dancing with him for the first time since our disastrous summer party will help...or else make me wish there's another wine cellar for us to sneak away to.
People are still clapping and cheering by the time he breaks the kiss. I can tell he doesn't want to, feeling the same lava in his pulse each time his tongue brushes mine, sucking me deeper.
“You'd better keep that pussy good and wet for me, babe. I want you soaked 'til I get your legs apart,” he growls, brushing his stubble over my cheek. “We're going to have a helluva time walking this town tomorrow after I'm through with you tonight.”
Shit. My pussy tingles so sharp and hot I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples.
My new husband takes me by the hand and leads me out, past the screaming throngs, and into the limo downstairs. We cruise down the Vegas strip with me perched on his lap, dangerously close to the cock I want inside me so bad.
Every time I brush my hand against him, he takes my wrist and stops me, shooting me a devilish look.
“Not yet. Good things come to girls who wait.”
“Tease.” I straddle him. It's hard in the dress, but somehow I manage, gripping his shoulders harder. “Don't tell me getting hitched is softening you up already, bad boy. The Chris I know would hold me down and fuck me right in the back of this car.”
“It's called being responsible – pretty damned important with what we're gonna do. Besides, I know I'll knock you up sooner if this sweet little cunt's on fire for me all day.” Without warning, he reaches underneath my skirt, pushes up my thigh, and shoves my panties aside.
Gasping, squirming, I push my face against his neck until I'm practically drooling on his nice new uniform. It's so wrong, so dirty, so fucking insane to get married and start a family like this.
It's supposed to be all about love and devotion, a lifetime together. Instead, I'm thinking about our pleasure, how much I love this man, and how complete I'm going to feel when he's planted his seed inside me.
I dropped my birth control a couple months ago. We've gone back to condoms the last few weeks, saving ourselves for this night, the beginning of a non-stop fuckfest that I know will bring us closer than ever. He's going to give me everything I ever wanted, some amazing miracles I can't yet imagine.
I want it all. I want him. I need him to bring me off right here!
Too bad the car pulls up to the fancy spot where we're having the reception. His fingers press deep into my pussy, and his thumb whirls around my clit, sending me so close to coming my legs shake.
“Hold that thought, baby. We need to get out. Here comes our chauffeur.”
I look at him like I've just bitten into a lemon. I barely manage to get off him in time and straighten my clothes, finally understanding the meaning of blue balls – and the only thing I know about any balls at all just now is how badly I want his emptying deep inside me.
The reception is just a total blur of lust and laughter and love. Our food and friends are exquisite, everything I expect from a wedding as amazing as ours.
Marnie and dad keep teasing us through the whole thing, telling us we'd better get to work making babies. Oh, if only they had any clue.
My best friend shows up with her new date, this lean computer geek from Seattle. He actually looks like a normal human being instead of someone who's been roasting in the sun too long. I have to do a double-take every time I watch them moving, dancing, laughing together. It's a big change for her, and she seems to like it.
I'm not the only one here who feels all grown up.
Life keeps shifting into a higher gear, and I'm more thankful than ever I have this incredible warrior along for the ride so I don't get lost in its wake.
We dance like we haven't ever before, even that fateful night at dad's house.
He holds me closer, and his breathing matches mine, a slow, gradually building thunder. There's something sweet, liberating, and primal in his touch tonight.
We don't have anything to hide. We're free from our taboos and our screwed up families. We've survived the hell in our hearts and the storm in our bodies.
I know there will be hills and valleys in the years ahead, like any couple. But he's my flint and I'm his spark, and we're going to continue kindling something so bright and beautiful it makes my eyes start to water through the happiness, the desire, the need rubbing my veins raw.
“Oh, now you're getting sentimental? I was wondering how long it'd take.” He brushes away the tears streaming down my cheeks and kisses me until
I smile.
“People are drunk, Delia. They're tapering off and going to find their own fun. You ready to make a baby, or what?”
“Yes!” I whisper back.
He rolls his hips against mine in a long, arching, intense hook. Somehow the deeper layers of fabric drag against my clit. I shudder in his arms, feeling like a fuse that's finally closing in on its charge.
God, yes. He grabs the back of my neck and holds me, domineering as ever, gazing into my eyes.
It's so hard not to get lost in each other. But right now I need to get lost in his flesh, and I lean in for a kiss, probing his tongue with mine in long, carnal strokes that leave no doubt about what I want.
“Then shake your pretty ass. I'm not sleeping 'til I find out how my new wife fucks in every damned position.”
“No way! You didn't!” I'm in his arms, running my hands over his rough, handsome face as he carries me in. I do a double take and start laughing when I see the bed.
It's even more ridiculous than the one in his old room. It's like a Victorian thing on steroids with posts reaching almost to the ceiling, and a burgundy canopy threatening to envelope us for days, leaving us stranded together.
“I specifically requested it. Didn't get a chance to do half the shit I wanted to with that old bed, and this thing gives me all kinds of ways to hold you down 'til you're pregnant.”
Pregnant. Just the word makes me grab him and kiss him, hungry and hard as I can.
Okay, yeah, it's a little early in my new career for a baby, but writing is always family friendly. He's talked about having a big family for months, and my panties burn a little more each time I think about our future.
I'm ready. I'm willing. And I'm going to give him the greatest gift of all.
“Get this damned thing off before I shred it,” he growls, pushing me onto the bed. We climb in together as he shoves the curtain shut.
I pick at my dress, trying to unwrap it, while he effortlessly drops out of his fancy uniform. There's no brakes once he's naked.