by Emilia Finn
He pulls me against his side to slow my swaying and I gasp as a brilliant plan pops into my brain. “You should talk British.”
Jon looks down at me with a goofy smile. “Huh?”
“It’ll make you sound sober. Talk like a geezer and she’ll never question your drunk-ness.”
“Drunk-ness?” Jon laughs.
“Just do it!” I spin as I hear a strange ‘meh-meh’ and I jump when I spot a couple goats being led around on dog leashes. Or are they goat leashes? One is wearing a tiara and a veil and I almost pee myself laughing.
“You can’t bring those in here,” Nasally lady drones. “They might start chewing things.”
“Can we get married, please?” Jon’s voice is wonderfully British and I cackle out a laugh as I hug his arm against my body. “My fiancé and I have been planning this for months. Do you know how many tea and scone dates I had to endure?”
“Fill out the paperwork. Drop your cash. Show me your identification. Blow into the breathalyzer.” Nasally lady slaps papers down onto the desk in front of us then she rushes off to shoo the goats.
“Says we need ID,” Jon murmurs as he reads the papers with one hand over his eye to focus. “And says we can’t be drunk.”
“We’re not drunk. We’re British.”
Jon’s right leg flips up behind us and he kicks me in the butt. “We’re not British and you most certainly are drunk.”
“Most certainly.” I giggle. “See, you even sound British. Or maybe that’s your scholarly education talking. Either way, fill that shit out before it turns midnight.”
“Why? You gonna turn into a pumpkin?”
“No, dummy. This office closes at midnight.”
Jon fills out the forms, he drops his credit card and our ID on top, then we distract the shit out of nasally lady as she processes us and forgets that we need to blow into the breathalyzer.
A cowboy couple walk in and join the line behind us; the man is wearing a giant tall hat and spurs on his boots and the woman is wearing a leather dress with crazy tassels hanging everywhere.
I giggle as I imagine ten-gallon-hat trying to go down on his leather bride later and him having to spit out the tassels as they catch in his scruff.
Jon and I collect our license, we collect our papers and we stumble out of the office and run to the chapel that advertises the Darth Vader.
I giggle as I spot storm troopers as we get closer, then I jump on Chewbacca and hug that big furry fucker when he walks out of the chapel with a cigarette held in one hand and a lighter in the other.
Jon pulls me off with a huffy sigh. “There’s still a guy in that costume, Sunshine. And my wife doesn’t have permission to hug him.”
“No.” Chewy pushes his Chewy head back and reveals his porn star ‘stache with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “She’s fine, come back to Chewy, baby.”
Jon shoves him as he holds me in his right arm like I was simply a rag doll. “Fuck off Chewy, you ain’t invited.”
“C’mon bro, she’s not your bride yet.”
“Don’t make me shove a light saber up your ass, man.”
Smoke and lights flash and blind us as we enter the chapel, then Kesha’s ‘Tik Tok’ blasts through the system as the ‘shoom shoom’ sound of a light-saber fight competes to deafen us.
Jon walks down the aisle with me still tucked under his arm and I giggle because I kinda need to pee and my buzz feels real good.
Darth Vader meets us at the end of the aisle, Jon produces our certificate then he sets me down on my feet and steals the veil off the head of the bride who went before us.
She doesn’t even seem to mind because she’s making out with a Storm trooper and her new husband. The husband doesn’t seem to mind either, proven by the fact his hand enthusiastically squeezes his bride’s ass.
Vader’s breathy voice moves through his mask and I bite down on my giggles. I feel like a little kid in a giant toy store with a promise of ten minutes to pick anything I want. “Do you guys have rings?”
I turn my pout on at Vader’s question. A ring is important when you’re getting married, but Jon shakes his head with a big smile and lifts his chin in the direction to our left. “No, but I wanna see what you’ve got in that cabinet over there.”
Vader solemnly and in perfect character nods his head. “Come this way, sir.” Then he drops Vader and picks up salesman. “We take cash or credit card. Our range varies from these seventy-three dollar silver bands, right up to these themed rings at twelve-thousand each, but they come with real diamonds.”
Jon’s face splits into a giant grin when he spots a set in the glass cabinet. “We’ll take these ones, thanks dude. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Twenty Six
Jon
Consummate
“Please, watch your head.”
I knock the driver out of the way as he reaches out to hold Casey’s hand, then I clasp her small hand in mine and I help her into the hot pink stretch limousine after we exit the super ugly chapel.
Casey wears one of our new shirts, printed with our wedding photo and date and I’ve got my new trucker hat pulled low over my eyes with the image of her and I making out after saying ‘I do.’
Best fucking hat in the world.
We climb in – stumble in – and we sit down – fall down – then the driver slams the door closed and enters the front and starts the engine. “Where to, Mac?”
As part of our wedding package we get a return limo tour of the strip. “Just lap, Mac. And close the partition.”
He rolls his eyes, clearly unhappy with his fat ass life and sick of his job, but I don’t give a shit because I’m drunk, I’m happy and I’m hitched to the girl of my dreams. “Come here.”
Casey giggles as I pick her up and lift her over my lap, then she throws her arms around my neck and latches her lips down on mine hungrily.
Thank god.
Her tongue ducks out to play with mine and my hands touch her everywhere, wanting to feel her everywhere. She’s mine now. I’ll make her happy. I’ll make sure she never regrets this.
“I love you, Sunshine.”
“Mmm.” Her hands come up and hold my head still while she presses closer against me. “I always loved you, Leo. Don’t break my heart tonight, k?”
“Never, Sunshine.” I pull her down onto my dick and she half sighs, half growls as she grinds down against me. “I’ll never break your heart again, Sunshine. Never ever.”
“Can you make love to me tonight, Leo? I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah, Casey. I’ll make love to you every night for the rest of our lives.”
She purrs against me as her teeth come down to nip on my neck and my hands squeeze her tighter.
“Are you going to remember this tomorrow?” Am I going to remember this tomorrow?
She nods her head as she bites my shoulder then she soothingly slides her tongue along the hurt. Casey; the soothing balm to my heart, to my body. The soothing balm to my soul.
“When we wake up tomorrow,” I begin trying to explain to her what this means, but I’m distracted and groan when she grinds down against me and my hands squeeze her perfect ass. Focus! “When we wake up tomorrow,” I try again. “I’m keeping you, okay? Forever and ever.”
“Mmmhmm.” Casey brings her mouth back over mine and wipes my brain free of all thought. She bites my lip as she pulls back. “I’ve always been yours, Jon. I‘ll always be yours. Be kind to my heart tonight.”
She latches her mouth onto mine again as she tears my hat off and tosses it to the floor, then her hands come down between us and start fussing with my zipper. “Undo these.”
A small niggling part in the back of my brain screams that fucking in the back of a seedy limo isn’t making love and not worthy of our wedding night. Casey’s better than that, but I’m still drunk and she’s sitting on me and undoing my pants.
“Help me, Jon.” Case moves onto her knees and lifts her weight as her hands fumble. I lift m
y own hips after she snaps the button undone, then together we push my jeans down over my hips and to my knees.
The fresh night air hits my dick and I hiss. I’m so close to being inside her again.
Casey stands over me so her head and neck is bent, restricted by the car ceiling, then she reaches under her skirt and pulls down the most divine pair of white underwear I’ve ever seen.
“White for my wedding!” she giggles as she fishes the lace over her ankles and catches them on her heels. I balance her beautiful body with one hand then I take her panties in the other to help her get them off, then she slumps back down in my lap. We both groan at the skin on skin contact and she instantly starts grinding against me.
I fist her panties in one hand and I fist her hair in my other. “Kiss me, Casey.”
“Yeah.” Her lips fuse to mine as her chest moves against mine, as her hips grind down against me. I find my feet planting themselves against the car floor and I lift my hips every time she lifts hers. Like a magnet, I follow her. I don’t want to be separated.
Casey’s hand comes down between us again and I groan into her mouth as her hand wraps around my dick. “Fuccckkkk, I’ve missed you.”
“Mmmhmm.” She lifts up again then she maneuvers and lines herself up. Her mouth leaves my lips but her green eyes lock onto mine. I could almost believe we were sober with the steadiness of her movements, with the intensity of her gaze, but I’m rendered thoughtless again when she slowly slides down over me. We both sigh, like this is a long awaited home coming, but the sweetness lasts only a moment before she lifts again and slams down over me.
My teeth latch onto her neck and my hands drop to her top – her original sparkly sexy top that shows off her pretty tits, plus our new wedding shirt as the white fabric dwarfs her delicate frame – and I pull them both up and off. She’s wearing a white push up lacy bra that matches her underwear and I smile even as I tug the cups down and feast on her nipples. My mouth jumps from left to right, back and forth as I suck hard enough to bring extra color to the skin, then I let it go with a pop and I work on the other. My teeth nip at her and her breath comes out in tiny pants as she rides me.
I take her mouth with mine again then I grab her hips and lift and slam her down, increasing the tempo as we both near climax.
“Casey.”
“Yeah,” she groans on the next downward slam. “Love me, Leo.”
“I do love you, Sunshine. Forever.”
~*~
Our driver lets us out in front of our hotel an hour or two later, and still riding that amazing buzz we’ve been on, especially since we found small wine coolers in the mini fridge in the limo, we stumble up to my room on the thirty-third floor.
Our whole family is staying on the same floor, so we work hard to tiptoe and move silently as we pass their doors, but in reality we’re giggling fools as we trip on the carpet and hold each other up.
For such a tiny girl, she does a good job of not letting me fall on my face, especially since she insists on wearing skyscraper heels almost exclusively.
With her mouth latched on mine and my hands holding her to me, we let ourselves into my room and throw our clothes off before I even flip the locks. Casey’s sweet body climbs me like I’m a tree and the sweetest fruit is at the top, then I walk us across the room and we fall to the soft bed that feels like angel tears and cotton candy clouds.
I make love to my wife until the early hours of the morning, with the sunlight already filtering through the floor to ceiling windows and the highlights in her hair easily traceable. I fall asleep with her finally in my arms again and with a smile on my face.
Before I fell asleep though, I knew it was important I write myself a letter. Just in case.
I moved her six billion limbs off me and stumbled out of bed, but not before brushing her beautiful hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, then I trip my dumbass across the carpeted suite and I dig through the desk drawers for the hotel stationary.
I also found chocolate mints. Score!
I hummed the tune I’ve dedicated just for my Sunshine and I sat my ass down and I wrote the most important things I needed to remember. I wasn’t risking her again.
“Dear Jon. LOL!! Do you get it?”
I actually found myself giggling like a fool when I wrote that. Then I thought of Channing ‘I think I’m the shit’ Tatum, and I sneered at his sissy dancing ass. Thinks he’s the shit. Asshole.
“Don’t worry.” I gleefully stroke my own ego and look at my hot wife as she starfishes our marital bed. “Your dick is bigger than his anyway. FYI, Asshole. Her name is Casey HART now. Your You’re happy about it! Don’t fuck ot it up! Go make love to your wiffffe and don’t call it fucking. She’s better then (than?) that! Giddyup, make her happy. Catch ya later, muthafucker.”
Even as drunk and stupid as I was, I knew this was the most important day of my life and I have a track record for fucking this shit up and hurting her.
I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. I’ll be the man she swore her life to. She’s wearing my ring and I own a certificate that means her last name will soon be replaced with mine.
The Hart name won’t die out with me.
It’s just getting started.
I’m determined to make her happy for the rest of our long and happy lives together.
I stumble back to my girl and I snuggle her close against me and I prepare to enjoy the first night’s sleep of the rest of our lives.
What feels like three minutes later, I wake to a cold bed, a missing wife and the phone blaring in my ear.
I almost fall and die in my attempt to grab the phone from the side table, then I frown at the familiar name flashing across the screen. “Hello?” It feels like there’s sandpaper in my throat and I cough in an attempt to clear it out. “Hello?”
“Jon, honey. It’s Nelly.”
I bring my right hand up and press the ball of my hand into my eye socket to clear out the fuzz. “Hey.” I sit up taller as Bean and Evie flash through my mind. “You okay? Are the girls okay?”
“We’re okay, baby, but you need to get out of bed now and find Casey. Run.”
Twenty Seven
Tink
Run Away
I slip out of our suite door as quietly as I can then I start tiptoeing down the hall past the guy’s rooms. I have to get out of here, now.
I’m going to the airport, I’m flying to the closest lawyer’s office and I’m taking care of my life before Jon wakes up and breaks my heart again. I have no fucking clue how I got here; in Jon’s bed, in his suite with his ring on my finger, but whatever happened can’t possibly end well for me.
He doesn’t want me. Not really. We want different things and my heart can’t take more of what he won’t give me.
“Casey. Good morning.”
I jump with a strangled squeak at the voice behind me, then I squeeze my face in an attempt to hide from my sort-of mother-in-law as she watches me do the walk of shame. I even have my shoes in my hand and no bra or panties on. I want to cry out in frustration, then I want to find a baseball bat and smack Jon over the head, because I legitimately don’t know where my underwear is.
“Um.” I brush my hair behind my ear then quickly start putting my shoes on. I can’t stand in the hall without shoes. In front of this woman. The woman who was essentially my… husband’s – gag – mother. “Morning, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“Mrs. Kincaid?” she laughs softly as she smugly leans against the door jamb to her room. She left the door half open and I smile softly as I hear Bean’s gurgles and Evie’s cackling laughter from within. I already miss those boogers. “You know I want you to call me Nelly. You’re going to marry my Jon someday.”
I groan internally as she winks and folds her arms across her chest. She said the same exact thing ages ago, soon after we met, but at the time it was eye-roll worthy. Today, it just makes me want to puke. She has no clue how close she is.
Instinctively, I fling my arms be
hind my back to hide my ring and I fumble as I try to rip the damn thing off. I don’t know how I got the stupid thing on, but my fingers have turned fat overnight and it’s not coming off.
I feel nauseous and most the way dead. My eyes still feel gritty and dirty like I rubbed sand in them last night for shits and giggles. My stomach is sending loud warning signals that it’s pissed at me and is going to erupt like Mount Vesuvius at any moment. My cheek is still smarting from where my ring scratched my face, and I’m unlocking teeny tiny pockets of memory every second that I remain awake and in this hallway.
I’m pretty fucking sure Chewbacca got down on his hands and knees at some point last night and bleeped like a goat.
Jesus. Was I stoned?
“Where’re you going, Tink?”
I sigh at Nelly’s fresh and chipper face, at her ironed slacks and black tank top. Her barely wrinkled face except for the smile lines around her eyes has me bitter and on edge and her smug voice has me wanting to scream. Why does she get to be so fresh this morning when I feel like death and need a lawyer?
“Just going to my room.”
“Oh?” She looks me up and down, her dragging eyes make me feel naked. “Just getting in?”
I hate her guts right now. “Yeah. I, uh--”
“You stay in Jon’s room?”
“Nelly,” I groan. “Can we not?”
She laughs softly as her eyes pin me. “He’s handsome, huh?”
Goddddd. “Don’t do this.”
“I’ve known Jon since he was about six years old, did you know that? I know you’re always at each other’s throats, but I like it.” Nelly pops her head into her room for a second as we hear Evie cackle and jump about, then her eyes come back to mine. “Jon doesn’t get wound up often…” she smiles wistfully, “he was always a quiet kid, watchful and wary, but when you’re sending him crazy, needing to be bailed out of jail or carried out of Kit’s fight… your fire makes him smile. You making my son smile makes me smile.”