“Come on,” I say, leading him over to a chair beside Sherry.
Taylor is already walking over to the DJ’s booth to collect the pom-poms we had hidden there prior to the reception starting. “
“You know that Taylor and I have a flair for the dramatic,” I tell him. “You had to be expecting this.”
“Y'all ready for this?” blasts over the speakers, and Taylor and I begin the routine I’d choreographed, which is an Evolution of Dance sequence that goes through songs reminiscent of my dad and Sherry.
Taylor and I start with “My Girl,” and then our entire squad joins in for “Hooked on a Feeling,” “Treasure” and “The Way You Look Tonight.”
They do a fantastic job, but I’d expect nothing less. We ended up winning Nationals, and this year with a strong crop of new cheerleaders joining us— and the return of Mandy, who successfully completed physical therapy and rehab— we’re an even better squad that will undoubtedly win again.
Everyone was very supportive during Christian’s trial, and he’ll be locked up for a very long time. Testifying was difficult because it forced me to remember and relive that awful day but I’m glad that all of that ended before my dad’s wedding, so that now I can just relax and enjoy it.
Finally, Taylor and I finish up with rewritten words to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air song that we rap while the rest of our squad members dance. At the end, we do the victory cheer we always perform after the Wildcats win, which is also switched up to be personalized for my dad and Sherry.
Let’s go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
He’s Coach Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
And she’s Sherry Hudson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Way to go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Way to marry Hudson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
We’ll go to their wedding
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
They’ll live happy ever after
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Let’s go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Mr. and Mrs. Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Go on your honeymoon
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
And to your happy ever after
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
We kick our legs and throw our pom poms in the air, and Mandy does a backflip for the grand finale.
“Thank you, Sweetheart!” My dad says, as all the wedding guests join us in clapping.
“That was lovely,” Sherry agrees.
Later, after a fun night full of lots of dancing, toasting and celebrating, it’s indeed time for the newly married couple to leave for their honeymoon in the Caribbean.
“Wait,” says Sherry. “I have to throw my bouquet first!”
The DJ starts playing “All the Single Ladies,” and a bunch of us dutifully lineup behind her.
“One, two, three…” she says, and then tosses it over her head.
As it arches perfectly straight in my direction, I know it’s meant to be, but I still feel rather nervous and embarrassed.
“Chelsea! You’re next!” Sherry says, as she turns around and doesn’t seem surprised at all that I caught it. She winks at me.
“No pressure,” she tells Wesley.
“Have a great honeymoon!” I tell her and my dad one last time, to change the subject.
Taylor says the same thing, and then my dad and Sherry run off to their limo.
“I still can’t believe your dad and my mom got married,” Taylor says, scrunching up her face in mock disgust, and looking like the little girl I knew when I was eight years old.
“Me neither,” I tell her. “But I love you. And I guess we really are sisters now.”
“I love you too,” she says, and hugs me.
Wesley’s standing beside me, still looking shell shocked by the fact that I caught the bouquet, I guess.
“How mortifying,” I tell Wesley. “Don’t worry. It’s just a silly wedding tradition.”
But then he’s down on one knee, looking up at me with an excited grin and I realize what his expression had been about.
He looks even more nervous and excited than right before we rode The Beast for the first time. We’ve been there quite a few times in the year we’ve been together since then.
“What?” I ask, but everyone around me begins to clap.
He pulls out a small box and opens it up.
It’s my mom’s engagement ring, which my dad had given her. I’d recognize it anywhere, as she’d worn it ever since I can remember and then I used to go into her top dresser drawer and look at it after she had passed away.
“If you want something different, of your own…” Wesley starts to say, as he sees me looking down at it.
“No, it’s perfect,” I tell him.
I bend down and hug him, not caring who can see me cry.
“Thank you!” I tell him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“So I guess that’s a yes?” he says, sincerely looking relieved.
“You haven’t even asked her yet, you moron,” one of the other football players shouts from the crowd, and everyone laughs.
“Oops.”
His brown eyes stare straight at me.
This is the bad boy I thought would never be mine.
Down on one knee, looking up at me.
“Chelsea Thompson, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
He scoops me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. We kiss and kiss and kiss, until his teammates and my squad members are all groaning and telling us “Enough, already.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I repeat. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Chelsea. So fucking much. I’m so glad I’ll get to ride this ride called Life with you forever.”
THE END.
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SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Published by Sizzling Hot Reads
Chapter 1—Riley
Okay, I can do this. I can have an orgasm.
I lie back on my bed, feeling stupid. This is definitely not how I'd expected to start off my morning. But my friend Brynn had dared me to try it, after last night had turned out a lot more disappointing than I'd expected.
I was supposed to go on a date with my boyfriend Charles but he never called. He'd been at a golf tournament with some clients of our law firm and he'd texted me at around eight o'clock p.m. to say that the "entertainment" of said clients was running late.
So, I'd called Brynn and she'd told me come over for a bottle of merlot. Of course I went right over, since I had nothing better to do and since Brynn is my BFF. Also, because I needed wine.
"I really thought Charles might be the one I’d lose my virginity to," I'd confessed to Brynn.
Brynn's one of the few people who know that I still have my virginity. We've been friends for a long time and she’s never teased me about it like the few others had when they'd first found out.
"Now I'm thinking that's a lost cause. Just like the few other boyfriends I've had, he's just not special enough. He'd ra
ther blow me off than… let me blow him."
Brynn had laughed and then said, "I think that's your problem, Riley. You want your first time to be so special, with 'the right guy.' You should just let loose and go with it, see what happens."
"With Charles?" I'd asked her, scrunching up my nose skeptically.
She shrugged.
"Well, if you guys can work out whatever's been going on with you this time around, then maybe. Although, it seems like maybe you both know it's time to call it quits, but neither of you wants to be the one to push the 'End’ button."
"Again," I’d added her to her statement. "Neither of us want to be the one to push the 'End' button once again, after we've re-started it so many times."
Charles and I had broken up so often it wasn't even funny. I don't even know why we keep trying. Except that his dad, Jack Holt, is the founding partner of our law firm, and pressures him to stay with a "rising star" at the firm, such as myself. He thinks my ambitious attitude will rub off on his son, who would rather play video games than write briefs.
"When I really face the truth, Charles and I are together for all the wrong reasons," I'd confessed to Brynn. "I used to think he only stayed with me because his dad wanted him to, and that's probably true. But then, why do I stay with him when he keeps ditching me for better plans? I suppose I like that the founding partner of the firm wants me to be dating his son. I'm afraid I won't be able to stand on my own two feet without him propping me up."
"Don't be ridiculous," Brynn had said. "You've always been a straight-A student. You’ve worked so hard on all your cases and you've more than earned your place at the firm. But I think change is just hard. It's easier to stay with the wrong person than take a step to be alone or find someone better."
"Yeah," I'd sighed, downing the rest of my wine.
Brynn had happily poured me another glass. And that’s why I love her.
"If you're going to break up with him, do it soon, so you can lose your virginity to someone else," Brynn then said, in her no- nonsense way. "And in the meantime, at least treat yourself to a mind-blowing orgasm."
I'd just looked at her, before finally finding the nerve to confess a secret even worse than the fact that I'm still a virgin.
"I… don't exactly know how to do that, either," I'd finally said.
"What?" she'd exclaimed, her eyes growing wide. "You don't masturbate?"
"It's not that I never have," I'd told her. "I just… haven't had the best luck so I don't get what it's all about."
"Girl, you've got to be kidding me," she'd said, standing up.
She went over to her bedside table, pulled something out of a drawer, and came back.
"Here," she said, handing me a silver, egg-shaped contraction wrapped in plastic. "Don't ever say I never gave you anything."
"What is this?"
I'd held the egg in my hand, realizing that I had an idea what it was, but feeling rather embarrassed.
"It's a magic bullet," she'd said. "Your own personal vibrator. Don't worry— I haven't used it. I just ordered a new one from Simple Pleasures because I wore my old one out. That’s how much I masturbate. And it’ll be hard not to have another one for a little while. But for you, I can wait and order a new one."
"Oh, my God," I'd said, blushing. "I can't believe you just have these things laying around."
"Whatever," she'd said, rolling her eyes at my innocence, as usual. "There are entire sex toy parties based off these things now. I'm hardly the only woman in America with a vibrator— or six— in my bedside stand."
"Six?"
"Riley," she'd told me, shaking her head. "Just try it. You'll love it. I promise."
So here I am. After way too much wine and too little sleep, I'd woken up at Brynn's house at five a.m. and bolted home. I hate trying to sleep after I've had too much to drink— I always wake up early and can never go back to sleep.
After lying down in my own bed and trying to fall back asleep for a while, I gave up. There's still half an hour before I have to start getting ready for work, so I take the "magic bullet" out of my purse and stare at it.
This is really it. My first orgasm. Here it comes.
I lie back on my pillow and spread my legs. I hit the "on" switch and put the vibrator up to my clit.
Mmmmm. That does feel good…
It hums against me, cold and metallic as it works its magic. I suppose it’s aptly named. I still feel silly getting so up close and personal with an inanimate object. I decide to think about Charles.
But I can't. After trying to picture him, all I can think of is the text he’d sent me last night, which had let me know once again exactly how unimportant I am to him. Not to mention the fact that he’d never followed up with another text.
How I wish I could be with a different guy— one who appreciates me and who wants me to be pleasured. Not just someone who is with me because his dad wants him to be. Because he's used to life being handed to him on a silver platter and to doing whatever Daddy wants, to make Daddy happy and his own life easier.
I can't think about that right now, though. I have an orgasm to accomplish.
Instead, I try to conjure up images of celebrities I think are hot. Muscular, toned guys— strong and courageous and not afraid to take risks. The exact opposite of Charles.
Finally, I feel a tingling down below. It feels like a small current of electricity. I draw my breath in, waiting for something more.
But nothing else comes.
I stop the vibrator.
Was that it?
Damn it. I don’t even know.
I was expecting erupting fireworks, but that was just a little fizz.
I should keep going. Try again.
I know that if Brynn was here she'd be saying, "Don't give up. You deserve this."
But it's time to get ready for work. At least I felt something. It was a step in the right direction.
I wash the vibrator and open the drawer of my bathroom sink to put it away. I place it inside an old makeup bag that has a bright red and turquoise elephant print on it, and then, just for good measure, I cover it up with a tin box that holds barrettes. If for some reason any guest ever needs to use this bathroom, hopefully they’ll never find my dirty little secret.
I'll have to try it again another time. Maybe it's one of those things I'll get better at with practice.
For now, it's time to go to work, and see Charles, and start dealing with things I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with.
The tough guys I was thinking of just a moment ago are only for fantasy. My real life awaits.
Chapter 2 – Riley
When I get to work, Charles is nowhere to be found. I try to nonchalantly meander on over to his office to look for him, but a fellow associate named Trina stops me before I can even get there.
"Looking for Charles?" she asks, grinning.
Damn it.
She is so not the person I want to see right now. She's always had a crush on Charles and I'm sure she's taking great pleasure in the fact that I'm unsuccessfully trying to track him down.
"I just needed to talk to him about a case," I say quickly, defensively, as if I had indeed seen or at least spoken to my boyfriend last night as planned, and just need to talk business this morning.
"I see," she says, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow to show she doesn't believe me. "Well, I doubt he'll be in any time before noon. We had quite the night last night."
"You—?"
I trail off, trying not to sound surprised.
What is she talking about?
"Oh yeah, after the Westin Invitational— it's a shame you don't golf, by the way; it's a great way for female associates to be able to woo clients just like the male associates do, and there are some real hotties on the course as well— we took some clients to Closed Door."
She laughs, as if she had just told me that she and my boyfriend had taken clients shopping at Walmart, rather than to the seediest strip club in town.
"Oh, he didn't tell you?" she asks, with pity, reading the look on my face.
From the way she’s smirking at me, I can tell she suspected I didn’t know, and that she’s happy to have her suspicions confirmed.
"I—"
I begin, but I don't really have anything to say. I'm completely taken off guard.
"It's okay," she says, her lip pouting as if trying to be friendly. "I know a lot of— girlfriends— is that what you still are to him?— aren't into the strip club scene so he probably didn't want to hurt your feelings and tell you. I left at about midnight because I had to finish up the Colvert case briefing but he was still partying hard with a few of the clients and a lot of the dancers. That's why I'm betting he won't be in any time soon. Not that he has to— being the boss' son and all, you know?"
"Thanks for letting me know," I tell her, as if I'm truly grateful when clearly I'm not.
I'm about to tell her I have a lot to do this morning anyway, so I'll just catch him this afternoon. But suddenly it hits me. I'm sick of taking crap from other people about my "relationship" with Charles.
"I'm sure his dad will be happy to hear that you guys were keeping the clients entertained," I tell her, with a grin as fake as the one she was just flashing at me.
"Oh, I don't think there's any reason to fill him in on that," she says, with a nervous giggle.
Jack Holt likes when his son entertains clients but there’s no doubt he wouldn’t approve of the strip club aspect of last night’s entertainment. He’s notorious for saying his son lacks judgment and decency sometimes. Trina and I both know that Jack would not be happy to hear about their exploits last night.
As if on cue, Jack’s secretary Cindy rounds the corner. Jack Holt has assistants that will track down anyone he needs, at any time, but when Cindy—who has been with him for over twenty years and is his main secretary who can’t usually be bothered to do such dirty work— is looking for an associate, we know it’s serious business.
"Oh, there you are, Riley," she says, shaking her head nervously. "Mr. Holt has been looking for you. He would like to talk to you in Conference Room B."
Trina looks scared, so I wink at her, as if to tell her I'll be filling in Mr. Holt on everything.
Out of Line: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Page 33