It’s an intoxicating combination that I can’t wait to drink every damn day of my life.
Well, that’s if she says yes.
My balls tighten, and I feel a sharp tingle spread throughout my muscles. “I’m going to come,” I grunt into her mouth.
“Yes…come inside me, Huxley.” Oh, so close!
I pound into her a few more times, and my body stills. I move my hand between us and tease her clit.
“Come with me, baby.”
“Ahh!” She moans and tilts her head, panting.
I combust, my cum gushing out and intensely filling her, and it pushes her to the edge.
Rubbing harder, adding more pressure to her clit, her muscles start to quiver, and I feel her orgasm grow rapidly. “Yes, yes…I’m going to come!” She screams and then stills, biting into my shoulder.
I wince, but I love feeling her need for me, whether it’s to get her off or keep her steady.
We lie there, our chests rising and falling together as we descend from our orgasm. She has to marry me. I abruptly break our bliss and force her to look up at me, pinning her hands to other side of her chest.
“Olivia, marry me.”
“What!? Huxley, you’re drunk.” She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief.
“No, I’m not. Marry me.”
“Seriously, you’re drunk. Or still high off your orgasm.” She writhes against my hold.
“I’m sober, Olivia. And I want to marry you,” I start to plead. Third time’s the charm, right?
She straightens her lips in a thin line and looks at me with a very serious expression, but I get glimpse of excitement behind her eyes.
“If you’re so serious, ask me again in the morning. Then maybe I’ll believe you’re not drunk.”
I match her expression. “Uh, fine…tomorrow. I will ask again.” I smile and give her a quick peck before releasing my hold on her.
Pulling out, I fall onto my back and on the bed beside her. The mattress bounces, and I see her body move to its beat.
She stretches her arms and legs, and reaches behind her to pull down the covers and get underneath them. I help, but when we tuck ourselves in, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into me, cradling my head on her shoulder.
I kiss her lightly because I’m fucking insatiable and I don’t want to stop touching her.
She hums.
“Sleep, babe. Tomorrow will be a big day.” I smile against her skin and kiss her.
She sighs and chuckles, and I swear, a second later, she falls into a deep sleep.
Feeling her in my arms after the night we shared makes everything feel so right. But tomorrow? Tomorrow, I’ll make this feeling official.
Olivia
“What are you still doing here?”
I poke Huxley in the back, and he rolls over, groaning and wiping the drool from his cheek like a sloppy fallen angel who thought he’d just come down from heaven for a quick drink.
“What do you mean? I thought we…”
“We did,” I reassure him as he clutches his pillow in alarm. “And it was the most fun I’ve had in…well, forever.”
Huxley’s face lights up with a mixture of relief and love. I don’t even mind that he’s going to have a bigger ego now.
“Did you think any more about what I asked you last night?” he asks, cuddling me in his arms. With muscles like his, the answer to any question he asks me will likely be yes. “Because I meant it. I love you. I want to marry you.”
Oh. Now I remember.
He proposed.
After a disastrous wedding, followed by several hours of drunken debauchery, Huxley decided it would be a good idea for us to get married.
“Still? Why?” After everything we’ve been through last night, I think I can believe he’s sincere about his feelings, but I want to hear him explain them to me one more time to be sure.
“Are you kidding me? You’re the most fun girl I’ve ever met, Olivia.”
I’m astounded. No one’s ever called me fun before. If Huxley is the human equivalent of what’s happening at a party when someone calls the cops, I’m the person everyone calls to bail them out of jail.
Because everyone expects me to be alone, sober, fully clothed, and vacuuming the carpet when I get the call. And before I met Huxley, they were usually right.
“You’re completely unpredictable,” he continues. “You spent a whole year planning your sister’s frilly-as-fuck wedding, and then you trashed it in like, thirty seconds.”
“Oh, no. Not this again. You were the one who…”
Huxley puts his finger in front of my mouth to shush me. “You’re the first girl I’ve met who’s so comfortable with her body that she spends more time naked than dressed.”
I can’t say I’m committed to the nudist lifestyle I was forced to adopt when my own bridesmaid dress left me standing at the altar, but I have to admit that being with Huxley makes me worry a lot less about the size of my ass.
I’m worrying so little about it, in fact, that I’m now giggling at the memory of running around Theo’s house without a bra.
“That was involuntary. At least, it was the first time I lost my dress.”
“You’re fucking awesome at beer pong.” Huxley is now counting my virtues on his fingers, rattling them off one by one. “You can hold your liquor. You can even hold your own in a fight.”
I look at him skeptically. “And this is what makes me wife material? Because everything you just described sounds more like a fraternity hazing ritual than a date.”
Huxley shakes his head at me. “No, those things are what make you fun to be around. What makes you wife material is your loyalty. You never gave up looking for Emma and Theo, no matter how many times they ignored your calls.”
“Well, of course not. And neither did you,” I point out. “You didn’t get as freaked out about it as I did, but you stayed and helped me look for them. You didn’t just give up and go home.”
“But I probably would have if you hadn’t been there. You gave me a reason to care about this shitty wedding. I used to think weddings were a huge waste of rice. They still are—food is for eating, not throwing. But now I understand why so many people get married.”
“You do?”
After watching my sister go through it, even I’m not sure anymore. Planning her wedding was not the piece of cake she promised me it would be. It was a slice of hell.
“I totally get it now. The wedding is just an excuse for your mom to show off her expensive chandelier and get drunk with her friends. All the fun parts of being married—the hanging out, the talking, the sex—they happen after the wedding, when you get to go home together.”
I stare at him for a moment, savoring the words that I’ve waited so long to hear. Before I can burst into tears and confuse him even more, I lean in and kiss him.
Our lips definitely belong together. The rest remains to be seen.
“I know what you mean,” I tell him. “I thought marriage wouldn’t work unless two responsible adults were involved. But if life can get this messed up even when I’m in charge, why worry about it? All I need is someone who will help me have fun, no matter what goes wrong.”
Huxley rolls off the bed, lands on the floor, and gets back up on one knee. “Olivia Vandercliff, will you let me fuck up your life forever?”
“Of course I will, Hux. Even if we never find Emma and Theo, at least we’ll have each other. I’ll even marry you naked if you want. You’re the best man I know.”
He jumps back on the bed and tackles me, covering me in kisses and grabbing my ass in both hands.
“Finally, you admit it!”
“I do.” It’s the first time I’ve said the words, and it makes me happy to think that it won’t be the last.
We lie in bed for a moment, cuddling and kissing. I wish I could stay here forever, but nature—and the gallon of alcohol I drank—is calling me to the ladies’ room.
“I’ll be right back, Hux.”
>
“You’re not going to the bathroom, are you? Because if you are, you’re going to have to fight me for it!”
He leaps out of bed and races me to the en suite bathroom. When we reach the door, I throw my foot in front of him to get the lead. Now I have just enough room to wiggle in front of him and make it inside before he does.
I sprint through the door and sit on top of the toilet seat, claiming it for my own. Then I look up at Huxley in triumph.
“You’d better leave now, Hux. I’m not the kind of wife who leaves the door open when she pees.”
“I’m just going to brush my teeth first. You can do what you want.” He takes his time, pulling Theo’s spare toothbrush out of a drawer and topping it with a dollop of toothpaste.
“Did you know you’re supposed to brush up and down instead of side to side?” he asks me.
I’m dying. If he doesn’t wrap this up soon, I’m not going to make it. “Hurry up, Hux! I’m serious!”
He sighs. “Fine. I’ll be waiting for you outside, but since you’re kicking me out, my breath will not be fresh.”
“I can live with that.”
A few moments later, I’m back outside and feeling much better.
“Your turn!” I announce, and we change shifts.
I’m just imagining all of the kissing we’re about to start in on when Hux comes back with fresh breath when suddenly, he comes back out of the bathroom looking…
Entirely too serious for a makeout party, anyway.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asks, looking at me nervously. “I mean, I know husbands and wives are supposed to support each other through everything, but I wasn’t expecting this quite so soon.”
“What are you talking about?”
Huxley looks down. In his trembling hands, he’s clutching a little white stick. It’s a pregnancy test, and it’s been unwrapped.
“Let me see that.” I snatch it from his hands and check the little box. There are two lines on it instead of one, which means that somebody in this house is pregnant.
“Are you pregnant?” Huxley asks me, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Hux! You don’t find out you’re pregnant the morning after you have sex with someone. That’s not how it works.”
Huxley relaxes a little bit in his shoulders, but there’s still a line of concern on his forehead. “Yeah, but…weren’t you seeing some guy? The one I knocked out when he showed up last night?”
Oh, yeah. My date. I’d totally forgotten about him. “That’s why you knocked him out, incidentally—he was upset that he didn’t get any.”
Huxley looks around the room, as if my wedding date might, in fact, be hiding in a closet somewhere, waiting to escort me back to the wedding.
“No, but before this. Is he your boyfriend?”
“No. And even if he was, he isn’t anymore. But that’s not the point here. The point is that you have nothing to worry about. I’m not pregnant. It’s mathematically impossible. I’ve been way too busy planning this wedding to even think about getting laid.”
Huxley furrows his brows, mulling over what I’ve told him. “Well, if this isn’t your pregnancy test, then whose is it?”
“We’re in Theo’s house right now, so…” A wave of dread washes over me. “Oh, no. You don’t think Emma is pregnant, do you?”
Huxley turns white at the thought of it. “Let’s not panic. There were tons of people in this house when we first got here. It could be anyone’s.”
“But we found it in Theo’s room. Which we’ve been hogging room whole time. And he and Emma are missing, so…”
“There’s a wild, unclaimed baby on the loose.” Huxley lifts the blinds and glances out the window, scanning the horizon for the owner of the pregnancy test and the unborn mystery baby.
“We should probably find out whose it is.” I look at Huxley, and he nods in agreement.
“Together, babe. You don’t have to do this shit alone anymore. It’s you and me against the world…”
“Ruined dress,” I mention. “Trashed wedding ceremony.”
“Missing bride and groom…and secret pregnancy,” Hux says with a laugh. “All of it, Liv. I love you. I’m going to marry you. We’ll figure it all out together, no matter what it takes.”
I kiss him gently, then hard. For the first time since Emma got engaged—despite, well, every disaster that’s happened since—everything feels like it could end up okay.
“I love you too. And I’m going to marry you, Huxley Athens,” I say with a grin. “But first…I think I’m going to need another drink.”
“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Huxley informs me, wrapping me up in his arms.
I feel drunk off of him—we’re drunk off each other.
All it’s going to take is a shot or two of tequila and we’ll figure out the rest.
Summer of Love_A Runaway Bride Romance Page 10