by Aven Jayce
I gaze at the screen, wondering what’s up. It’s unusual for him to be calling. “I’m gonna take this, give me a sec.”
“What? It’s my wedding, you dipshit.”
“Just hold on.”
He walks ahead with a sigh, joining the women next to the window that overlooks the lake. Sophia takes his hand and the two of them stand together, watching me, waiting for me. Jules glares with her get your ass over here face. And Jack decides to take the position next to Cove. The line is set. They’re ready.
I hold a finger in the air, answering the call.
“Hello?”
“Mark, it’s Ron Mulligan, over at—”
“I know. What’s up? I’m busy right now, so make it fast.”
“Yes, okay.” It sounds like papers are rustling on his desk before he continues. “I was calling about Paul’s will.”
“What? What about it?”
“First, I apologize for this slip up.”
“What fucking slip up is that?”
“Again, let me start by saying my office apologizes for this. We were recently in the process of digitizing all of our older cases when one of my administrative assistants brought this to my attention. A video was never given to you. It’s from Paul.”
“What, like one of those, if you’re watching this, that means I’m already dead, things? Is that what it is?” My heart starts racing.
“Yes. I can email you the file right now if you’d like. We’ve transferred the outdated DVD to our digital files and you’ll be able to view it on your computer.”
“You should’ve fucking given it to me over a decade ago. What the hell? How the fuck could you miss such a thing?” I try not to raise my voice, since the entire room is watching. Jules gestures that I need to get my ass moving while the minister checks his watch. Cove and Sophia are facing me, holding hands and waiting impatiently to begin. Even Jack’s got his arms crossed, tapping his foot.
“Mark?” Ron prods.
I stare at Sophia, watching a bouquet of Christmas lilies fluttering in her nervous hand. The movement resembles a heartbeat, pulsating as she waits. Her brown hair’s in a bun and her chestnut brown eyes, the ones that are carbon copies of Paul’s, are lively and bright. She’s biting the corner of her bottom lip, trying to hold in her excitement.
“Mark, I’m emailing this to you now, okay?”
And Cove... his expression is confident, full of energy and spirit. I’ve never seen such a powerful stance from him before. Devotedly, he smiles at his wife and squeezes her hand in a loving gesture.
The email sounds and I end the call, hanging up on Ron to open the message. Fuck, I can’t believe it’s him.
“Mark. We’re waiting,” Jules pleads.
I tap the screen, seeing a still image of my dad sitting with a cigar in one hand and a glass of liquor in the other. A red play button covers his face—suggestive of blood from the spot where he was shot. My finger hovers over the screen...
“Mark,” another plea.
My head lifts to Jules then to the rest of my family. Silver painted birch twigs strung with white lights form an arch above them... the arch... my strength and support, my beginning and end. My nephews kick red lily petals lying beneath their feet, sending the pieces shooting quickly into the air, and spiraling slowly to the floor... significant to Jules who’s mentioned a sign of maturing love is fallen petals. Fucking amazing, the way she set the room so well, nothing too showy, keeping things simple and modest, placing the focus on family, the couple, and love. What could be more important than that?
I turn off my cell and proclaim, “to hell with you,” walking forward to join everyone in the soft light of a winter afternoon.
“Sorry,” I utter, taking a place behind Cove.
He releases Sophia’s hand and turns to me, talking into my ear, “What the fuck was that? Way to hold up the ceremony.”
“I guess it’s not as bad as being late for my own wedding.”
His mouth twitches, the corner lifts, and a smile grows. He steps behind me and Sophia and I are face-to-face. My sister giggles and moves behind Jules, handing her the bouquet.
“It is your wedding, dumbass,” Cove reveals, pushing me forward.
Wait... what?
Jules blushes and says, “Hi.”
“Hi.” I flash a smile.
She steps closer, raising a hand for me to join her.
Dax and Xav let out screams of delight, saying, “We got you good Uncle Mark,” while kicking more petals into the air.
I gawk, in total disbelief. How the fuck did... and she... and they... damn, they suck. Fooled!
Her finger lifts my chin, helping me to remove my jaw from the floor.
“I take it you’re surprised.”
“No, I knew all along.”
“Sure you did.” She takes my arm and we turn to the minister. “I’m sure. You knew all along.”
I can’t hear a word the minister says, my senses ceasing to function... vision blurred... hearing reduced, and sounds muffled... but I can feel Jules’ warm and comforting hand in mine. I’m stunned, in a daze until the minister gets to our vows and I watch Jules pass the bouquet to Sophia. She turns back and bumps my arm with a smile. How long was that? Five minutes? She nudges me again, guiding me back to the ceremony.
“... bride and groom are here on this glorious day to marry one another. No one else’s strength of will can create such a union. It is their words, their intentions, their vision, that must define and shape this marriage. So I call upon them now to state their promise before this group—the pledges that will bind them together.”
I take her hands in mine, about to speak, when I notice she opens her mouth to do the same.
“Go ahead,” I say.
“No, sorry, you first.”
“No, go. We said if we ever got married we’d say our own vows, so you start.”
“No, you speak.”
“Jules, you’ll complain for the rest of our lives that you wanted to go first, so go.”
“Mark, just do it!”
“I told you to.”
“Say the vows so I can have some fucking wine,” Jack mutters.
“You’re not drinking where guests can see you,” I state, still holding her hands and admiring her breathtaking features. “Say it,” I whisper. “Tell me.”
She inhales a deep breath and nods. “I-I Jules.” Her nose wrinkles and she sniffs, trying not to cry. She looks down, blows a puff of air, and fans her face. “Okay. Okay. I can do this. Wow.” She takes another deep breath and starts again. “I Jules, take you Mark, to be my husband.” A single tear runs down her cheek. “To have and to hold from this day forward.” She stops and takes another breath, filled with emotion. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say tenderly, squeezing her hands.
She nods with a lick of her lips and continues, “For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you... until I can’t stand you anymore, at which point I’ll have to kill you and feed you to the bears.”
The group laughs, even her mom, who likely thinks she’s kidding. I drop my shaking head, trying to regain composure. Fuck, I love her.
“Your turn.” She shakes my hands.
I swallow hard before I begin. “I, Mark Jameson, take you, Julia Barringer—my Jules, to be my wife.” Her face is beautiful under the lighted arch. I pull her closer and set my hand against her cheek, wiping the tear from her face. “I promise to always protect you, princess. I vow to kill any person who fucks with you. And I pledge to continue being the arrogant prick you love.” She smiles and kicks my leg playfully. “For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you... maybe.”
“That was perfect,” she says as Karina steps forward, handing us a pair of hammered, white gold rings. They look tough, the type of badass ring I enjoy
wearing. “She made them,” Jules whispers.
“No shit?” I guess everyone’s in on this.
“No shit, Mark.” Her mom smiles and gives us each a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Groom,” the minister directs, “as you place this ring on—”
“We got it covered,” I tell him, taking her hand. “Let’s get this moving so we can get the after-party rolling.” I place the ring on her finger... “Welcome to the family, princess. I love you. Now let’s fuck.”
And she places the ring on my finger... “You’re mine. I love you. Now let’s fuck.”
The minister clears his throat saying, “Believe it or not, I’ve heard worse. Shall we end?”
We nod.
“It’s my pleasure to now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the—”
“Groom,” she says, moving forward and taking control. Our lips meet and everyone drones, “aww.” Our tongues swirl. They wait. We kiss. Everyone waits. We sign the register with Sophia and Cove, still kissing, scribbling our signatures with our arms out, but mouths glued together.
“Gross! Enough!” Jack complains.
Her legs wrap around my waist, making it easier to carry her out.
“Where are they going? I want cake,” Xavier says.
“Yeah, I want some fucking cake,” Dax adds.
“We’ll be right back, don’t you dare cut that cake!” Jules calls out. “Five minutes!”
“Don’t embarrass me,” I say.
“Ten minutes!”
“At least an hour,” I shout.
We pass Sam standing by the door. He must’ve been hiding out back here, and he’s damn lucky he behaved. “Hope you’re happy,” he says. Yeah, well, he almost behaved. We ignore him though, not giving a shit.
We rush to the second floor corridor, her taking off her heels while I remove my suit jacket and tie along the way.
“God, that’s the type of wedding I’ve always wanted.”
“It’s not over yet. We have to go back for the cake and to hang out with everyone. Oh, and dance! What song did you pick? Please tell me.”
“The Police, Every Breath You Take.”
“You remembered.” She takes my hand. “That was the first song I played on your iPod the night you got dragged into the lake with Dayne’s body. The night I wrapped you in the comforter to warm your body.”
“Fuck, those were good times.” I smirk.
“More to come.”
“True.” I open the door to the suite and we race upstairs. “Get that fucking dress off, quick.” I slip out of my shoes, pants and shirt. “Bra and panties too. Everything. Take it all off!” I tug my boxers down and pull her into the bed.
“Hello, Mrs. Jameson. My wife.”
“Hi.” She smiles.
“Lucky number two.” I nestle under her chin and nibble at her neck. “My life’s been full of them, but this is the best one yet.”
“Hmm?”
“We wed on the twenty-second day of the twelfth month at two in the afternoon—you did that for me. Twelve, twenty-two, at two. You’re brilliant. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to spend the rest of my life with.” I hover above her, running a hand down the length of her body. My head lowers... and I trace my tongue up the inside of her thigh, through the soft folds of her pussy, and to her tits.
“We’re perfect together,” she says, her palm resting over my heart.
She smiles... I blush... and my cock rubs over her lips, waiting to feel her wetness.
“Fuck, me.” She opens her legs wider, inviting me in.
We stare at one another, my hips moving in slow circles, teasing her arousal.
“Fuck, me,” she begs. “Please, fuck me.”
I slide in—pouring every ounce of love I have for her into this moment, kissing her fiercely, and thankful that she’s mine. Her hands are held high above her head and her body caressed with my lips.
“I love you so much.”
My wife.
I spent my whole life fucking like a porn star, but I fuck Jules like I’m her man. Face-to-face so I can revel in her beauty, our lips joined, and her needs of the essence.
“Fuck.” I dig into the sheets, my dick overcome with pleasure.
She arches her back and we move in perfect rhythm, maintaining the pace with each slide of my engorged cock. We breathe in gasps, our bodies on fire and sensitive to the increasing tightness of each other’s muscles.
“I want you to lose control. Don’t just make love to me, fuck me,” she insists.
My cock twitches and her tongue races into my mouth. I groan, deepening and lengthening my thrusts. Our entire bodies slide along the bed. Every inch of her is straining to stay in control as I deliver a passionate kiss to let go.
“Don’t hold back,” I command. “Cum for me, and I’ll bring you back to this feeling again later tonight.”
She closes her eyes and lifts her hips, rocking into my cock.
“That’s it, beautiful.” My movements become slow and steady, guiding her to the start of her beating orgasm.
“Oh! Mark!” she cries. “Oh!”
My arms tremble as her pussy explodes around my shaft.
“Keep going, keep going! God, yes!” she shouts.
Her pulsations drive my dick wild, causing me to erupt. I grab her tits, grip at the bedpost, and fuck her madly.
“Yes!” she screams.
“I’m gonna cum,” I utter, in the last seconds before I explode. From the tip of my cock, down my legs, and up to my neck, my entire body stiffens. One... two... and, “Jules!” I clench and waves of heat surge through my paralyzed body. “Oh, fuck.” My toes flare and legs shake as I collapse face down, panting in bliss.
“I love you so much, Mark.”
Her soft hands rest on the back of my head, holding me to her chest. She strokes my hair while I move in short glides, staying inside of her until the last drop of cum is released.
Our bodies descend into a restful state and I smile when she finger traces a heart onto my shoulder.
“Jesus,” I sigh, pulling out and lying by her side. “What a dream. I can’t believe you’re my wife. Best wedding ever. Short, modest, plus a hot-blooded fuck.”
“What now?”
“How about cake?”
“Cake. Then what?” she asks.
“Another fuck and more cake. Maybe a fuck with cake.”
“And then?”
“Sleep, work, and pussy.”
“And?”
“Princess, I love you, but zip it.”
“No, say it.”
“What?”
“The saying. Your line.”
I gaze at our reflections in the mirrored ceiling, placing her hand over my conquered heart. She looks up and waits...
“I’m Mark Jameson.”
“Yes, and I’m Jules Jameson.” She grins, wrapping her legs around mine.
We’re one, and the final words will be spoken together...
“Welcome to our hotel.”
EPILOGUE
WHY THE FUCK would I watch that video?
It’s not like I don’t already know what he’d say—that I was a bastard child, a pussy, and he hated me. An angry rant, exactly what I’d expect from Paul. Who needs to hear that shit again? I refuse to continue torturing myself when I have a beautiful wife and a kickass son to care for. Some things are more important than Paul Jameson.
But Jules watched it; the dominant control freak that she is. She needed to know, mostly because she never met him... and now she understands.
That’s what she said after she viewed it too. “It’s just him fucking with you and bitching about nothing. You’re right; he was cracked in the head. What an abusive bastard. Now I understand.”
And that’s all that needed to be said. The video was deleted. End of story.
And none of it matters anymore
because I won. We all did.
Cove, Soph, and me—we ended up in the perfect relationships, are loyal to one another, own successful businesses, ones that are legal, plus we have remarkable kids.
And I got Jules.
Freakin’ A, I’m the luckiest man alive.
What more could anyone ask for...
...well, I suppose some new sex toys wouldn’t be bad... perhaps a leather cat hood for Jules... and I want to get her a Vesper vibrator necklace... oh, and she might like...
About the Author
Aven Jayce received her MFA from the University of Colorado at Boulder. She was a college professor for seven years before resigning in 2014. She now enjoys life as an eccentric loner—much like the characters in her books. Her favorite reads are psychological suspense novels, a mix of dark and humorous erotica, and romances that contain bantering couples.
Her characters are often damaged, nonlinear, and a bit crazy.
Aven Jayce's novels include:
The NOVA Trilogy
Fallen Snow (Book One)
Desert Star (Book Two)
Sunset Rush (Book Three)
The Dark Scarlett
Jameson Hotel Series (Parts 1-6)
Divine
Amazon Author Page
Facebook Page
The NOVA Trilogy
NOVA is intended for mature audiences due to explicit sex scenes, strong language, and abusive situations. It may be disturbing for some readers.
Sophia Jameson is the daughter of one of the most notorious entrepreneurs in the world of adult entertainment, Paul Jameson. She's young, immature, and suffers from an abusive past, but sees nothing wrong with sleeping around; after all, sex is the cure for her depression. A long-term relationship with any man is not on the agenda—until she meets Cove Everton. The two fall fast and hard; delving into a relationship they know will be forbidden by Sophia's father.
Cove Everton was once the biggest star of Jameson Industries. Forced into the company at a young age, he still suffers mental and physical scars from the business owned by Paul Jameson. Angst-ridden and tormented that his family's been blackmailed, and his father framed for crimes that were committed by Paul, he continues to work for the adult industry, hoping to discover proof that will bring Paul to his knees and set his father free.