by S. M. Shade
“You never mentioned the future,” I finally say quietly.
“Mm?”
Taking a deep breath of resolution, I say the words again. “You never mentioned the future. You even said it was our last night together.”
He raises up, his lips pursing in confusion. “I meant our last night together there. And you never mentioned the future either.”
“I tried.”
A lazy grin tugs at his lips. “So you ran off because you thought I didn’t want to see you, and yet I didn’t freak out when you referred to yourself as my girlfriend.”
“I thought you saw it as just a fling, and to be fair, you don’t really seem like the type to freak out,” I grumble.
“I freak out easily. Very easily. Which is why you caught me so off guard last week. Nothing you did ever once freaked me out. I thought I made that clear numerous times.”
“You didn’t,” I state matter-of-factly, since he’s making me feel like a teenage idiot right now.
His grin only grows.
“So now you’re smart and clueless, only adding to my contradiction theory.”
I glare at him, but the momentary frustration is gone when his lips find mine in a slow, sensual kiss so different from the urgent one we had while tearing into each other. It’s me who finally breaks the kiss, even though he nips my lips and tries to resume it.
“I’ll go get us some drinks, and we’ll pick this back up,” I murmur against his lips.
I’m just barely thirsty, but if I don’t go to the bathroom, things are going to get a little gross. I forgot we skipped the condom. I was a teenager the last time I was stupid enough to do that. I forgot how messy this can be.
He drags his lips over my jaw, and I grin, running my fingers through his hair.
“Hurry back,” he says, slapping my ass as I stand and toss on my robe that’s fortunately not covered up with boxes.
I wish I could admire the very sexy naked man on my bed who drove almost six hours to spend the weekend with me, but I have to sneak around and mask the ick. I do, however, grin like an idiot despite the awkward moment I’m having.
It’s stupid to not just use my bathroom. It’s not like he doesn’t know what happens when you get off inside a girl… I mean… Does he know?
I’m seriously overanalyzing this, and I should have just used my bathroom.
My thighs have never been clenched as tightly as they are when I tiptoe down the stairs with stiff legs. If a quarter was between my ass cheeks right now, a president’s face would be imprinted very clearly when I pulled it out.
I duck into the bathroom downstairs, and I quickly clean up, relieved that I can unclench all over. I start to walk back up the stairs, but remember I used ‘getting drinks’ as an excuse to come downstairs.
I stumble when I see Emitt in the kitchen, and I tighten my robe as he grins at me, chewing on his apple as he props against the counter.
He motions to part of a hose and a tennis ball on the counter. “So, can I get a demonstration?” he asks.
At first, I’m confused, but then I realize who it was outside the door when I was laying claim to the ability to suck a tennis ball through a garden hose.
Right.
Well, that’s just embarrassing.
And I don’t think I can actually do that, either.
He grins bigger as I clear my throat.
“You really should keep your eavesdropping to yourself,” I tell him, going to the fridge as he laughs.
“Sorry. Was just coming to see if you needed a hand with all the boxes delivered. Sounds like you kept a delivery guy though.”
I choke on air, jerking upright so fast that my head hits the top of the fridge when I don’t pull back and lift at the same time. Cursing, I rub the back of my throbbing head.
“I wasn’t screwing a delivery guy!” I hiss, looking over to make sure Dad and Jenny aren’t within earshot.
When I turn back to him, he’s still grinning. “So my ass must have lost its luster if you’re—”
His grin fades slightly, and his eyes shoot over my shoulder.
“Hey, thought you could use a hand,” Roman says from behind me, causing me to whirl around just as he grimaces. “There was no pun intended in there.”
I start laughing, and Roman rolls his eyes as he comes to wrap his arms around my waist. He’s just in his boxers, but he doesn’t seem bothered by that as he casts a suspicious look toward Emitt. Oh… yeah… This probably doesn’t look right.
“Roman, this is Emitt. He works here and lives here when the company sends interns to help Dad finish a project.”
Roman’s eyebrows go up, and he pulls me a little closer as Emitt takes another bite of his apple, studying Roman like he’s confused.
“Emitt, this is Roman. He’s—”
“I’m her boyfriend,” Roman says, causing me to grin as I stare up at him. He’s not grinning. “We have sex,” he decides to randomly add. “Lots of it. Just had sex a few minutes ago. I give her orgasms and stuff. We just warmed up, so we’re not done.”
I strangle on the laugh that I barely manage to stifle, as Roman’s ears turn a little red. Emitt grins bigger.
“Alrighty then,” Emitt says, tossing the apple in the air and catching it before winking at me. “Have fun with that. I’m going to go make arms and legs and stuff. I just warmed up too, so I’m not done either.”
As soon as he’s out of the room, Roman groans, and I choke on the laughter I’m still working really damn hard not to release.
“What… was… that?” I ask, straining so hard to get the words out that it sounds like more of a wheeze.
“All the stupid wouldn’t stop once it started coming out,” he says, running a hand through his hair.
“Awww, did you just get jealous?” I ask, sliding my arm around his waist as I come to press into him, craning my neck back as far as it can go.
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Relax. I haven’t even checked out his ass since I came back,” I decide to say.
“So you’re coming to my house next weekend?” he asks randomly. “Because I don’t think I can show my face here for a while.”
Before I can answer, something crashes to the ground, the sound accompanied by a string of curses. I look past Roman to see my father tearing off his weird glasses and scooping up a tray of various wires and tools.
“Sorry,” Dad says without looking up. “Didn’t realize you were half naked in the kitchen.”
His eyes lift to see Roman, and Roman sighs as he hides his boxer-clad body behind mine the best he can.
“You are?” Dad asks.
“Roman Hunt, sir. We’ve actually met already.”
Dad’s eyebrows go up.
“Yeah. He’s the one that saw you with the squeaky slut back at the hotel.”
Roman pinches my ass, and I yelp, while Dad turns a few shades of red.
“Right. Well. Carry on then. I’ll be back in the lab.”
My dad spins and darts out like he can’t get away fast enough.
“You had to remind him how we met?” Roman asks, exasperated.
I rub my ass while grinning over my shoulder. “You ready to go back upstairs yet, or would you like to meet Jenny and tell her we have lots of sex too?”
A squeal peals from my lips as he lifts me and tosses me over his shoulder like a barbarian, carrying me toward the stairs. I laugh while dangling, hoping he keeps my ass covered if my robe rides up.
“Next time, just clean up in your fucking bathroom.”
If I wasn’t laughing so hard, I might be embarrassed at how transparent I apparently am.
“So now that you’ve met my family, when do I meet yours?” I ask as he swings me back to the bed, letting the dizziness wash over me as he comes back down on top of me.
“Since I want to keep you, the answer to that is never,” he says, grinning as he brushes his lips over mine.
“You want to keep me?”
He lea
ns up, his eyes studying mine. “As long as you promise to learn how to give a good blowjob,” he deadpans.
My hand slams into his chest as he laughs and pins me under him, but I forget about all the teasing and joking around when his lips find mine again. Roman Hunt is an addiction I never want to quit.
He was right under my nose, but we would have hated each other once upon a time. It’s like life had to find the right time for us to cross paths again.
Otherwise, we’d never be the perfect blend of crazy we are now.
“I really like the crazy,” Roman says softly against my lips.
“The crazy really likes you too.”
Epilogue
Davis
Three Years Later
“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” Henley squeals, jumping into my arms. The movers detour around us, carrying furniture into our new home.
“It was always going to happen, Hen.”
She leans her head against my shoulder and my hand travels to her hair as it always does whenever she’s near. I can’t help but touch her. All those years apart, I dreamed of this moment, a second chance with the woman I’ve loved since I was eleven years old.
She slides down my chest, planting her feet on the floor, and I play with the small box in my pocket, my stomach knotting in expectation and fear. “There’s a little ice cream shop just down the street. Want to take a walk? The movers will be here a while.”
“Sure!” Her auburn hair catches the sun, making it gleam like copper as she peeks up at me with those pale brown eyes. “You’re buying me a strawberry sundae.”
“With extra whipped cream,” I agree, grabbing her hand and starting down the street. My hands shake a little and I really hope she doesn’t notice. Damn, this woman has me completely whipped. Henley was nervous about moving in together, so I’m not completely sure how she’s going to take the surprise I have in store for her.
“Grab us a table, sweetheart, while I get our ice cream.” Thankfully, she grins at me and doesn’t argue. I’m not sure how I’d pull this off if she refused and went with me to order. The woman working behind the counter smiles and readily agrees when I ask her to put the ring in Henley’s sundae. Cheesy, I know, but I’m not great at romantic shit.
I carry Henley’s sundae and my banana split back to our table. “This was a good idea. I’m starving,” she exclaims, digging into her ice cream.
I don’t know why I bothered to buy myself anything since I have to force myself to eat it, but I don’t want her thinking anything is out of the ordinary until she finds the engagement ring it took me weeks to pick out.
She coughs and reaches for her bottle of water. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, but I swallowed something hard. It scratched my throat.” She starts stirring the ice cream looking for foreign objects while I’m frozen in place. Oh fuck. She ate it. She ate the damn ring. She’s going to kill me.
“Hen, I think we need to go to the hospital,” I sigh, leaning my head on my palm.
Alarmed eyes stare at me. “What? Why? Are you sick?”
“You just ate the ring. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I put it in your ice cream.” This is not how this was supposed to go.
“I swallowed a ring? Why the hell did you put a ring…?” Realization dawns in her eyes and they well up. She jumps to her feet, her hand pressed over her mouth.
Screw it. I still have a chance at salvaging this. Dropping to my knee beside her, I can feel every customer’s eyes on me as I speak. “Henley, I can’t imagine spending another day without you as my wife. Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” she exclaims, and I kiss the hell out of her, paying no mind to the applause around us.
We’ve discussed marriage and I know she doesn’t want a big wedding. “I don’t want to wait long, Hen. I want my ring on your finger as soon as possible.”
Her cheeks glow pink as she gazes up at me. “Well, we should have it back in about a week.”
Roman
“Check me out,” Kasha says, grinning over at me as she turns up the eighties music that is blaring through the outdoor speaker.
She stops and starts acting like a mime trapped in a box, while wearing her bikini and sarong. My eyes get distracted with all the skin, but I finally notice when Jill 2.0 starts swinging side to side.
“The robot! Get it?” Kasha says, laughing.
I roll my eyes, but can’t stop from smiling. Yeah. That’s what she does to me. Makes me smile like an idiot.
I draw her to me, digging my fingers into the material covering her ass. The bikini is just as outrageous as her underwear usually is. It gives the illusion that it’s an actual ass, crack and all. Even has “GOT CRACK?” written across the cheeks of it.
But all the crazy is what keeps me falling more and more in love with her. She simply doesn’t give a damn what the rest of the world expects, because she’s too busy enjoying life.
“Have I told you lately that I love you, Mrs. Hunt?” I ask, running my lips across her jaw.
I love the way she shudders, even after all these years.
“I think you could tell me a little better. Like with your face between my legs or your fingers—”
A loud horn blares, and I groan as she grins, leaning back. As much as I love getting together with everyone at our vacation rental several times a year, I also love having her all to myself. Because I’m a stingy bastard like that, and I can’t seem to get enough.
“This conversation will just have to wait,” she says with a mock sigh, winking at me as she goes over to greet my sister.
I adjust myself in my board shorts and move to the rolling bar. I hear my sister laughing and know she just got a look at my wife’s bikini and all its ludicrous glory.
Three years ago, I went to a wedding, planning to skip out early, even though I was a member of the wedding party. Three years ago, I thought of nothing but work and almost got annoyed when my body demanded sleep, because there was still work to be done.
My bosses hate my wife, because now I’m only there when I have to be.
Three years ago, a towel-wrapped, wet girl stumbled into my room with a robotic prosthetic and fierce eyes. Her dark hair was down to her waist back then, and I remember forgetting anything else even existed.
Then she opened her mouth, and I loved the challenge that always spilled from her lips. But it wasn’t until she showed me the hint of vulnerability she hid so well that I realized I wanted more than just a distraction.
In one week, my world was flipped upside down, and I realized there was more to life than the next big account I wanted to land.
So three months into dating, I moved her in with me without asking. She told me I was crazy, but she didn’t move her things back out.
Six months into dating, she awoke with an engagement ring on her finger, and I gave her three dates to choose from for our wedding.
She told me I’d lost my mind, but she immediately picked the soonest date.
Eight months into being together, she walked down the aisle, where I was waiting, worried to death that something would go wrong or she’d realize she deserved someone as incredible as she is.
But instead, she smiled up at me with tears in her eyes, and she agreed to do that whole until death do us part thing. Before the year was up, we’d already found our new house, and I haven’t looked back other than for purposes of nostalgia of our beginning.
“Henley and Davis are here!” Kasha says, grinning as she darts over to see Henley’s ring in person.
My ears still hurt from the loud shrieking Kasha gave when Davis finally fucking asked Henley to marry him. Davis disappears with a bag in tow, heading down to the dock.
I watch as Kasha animatedly gushes over Henley’s ring. It keeps taking me back to our unorthodox engagement, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Kasha tends to think too much if I allow her, and I love it more when she does something crazy with me without overthinking it.
After a few min
utes, I spot Davis coming back up, sans the bag. I bump fists with him, and he grins as he joins me. Lydia joins in on the screaming fit—I didn’t even know she was here.
The three of them bounce around as my sister joins them, hugging Henley. Life is so different these days.
“Oh! The canoe race! We have to do it now!” Kasha says, throwing down the metaphorical gauntlet to Henley.
“I swear the two of them are too competitive,” Davis grumbles as Henley picks up the metaphorical gauntlet.
“Challenge accepted.”
“Kiss me for luck, Mr. Hunt,” Kasha says, keeping Jill 2.0 away from me as I’ve requested on numerous occasions.
I cup her jaw, brushing my lips over hers. “You only get a kiss if you win.”
She mocks an indignant gasp, but then smiles.
“Fine then. Come on, Henley. I have to hurry up and kick your ass.”
They talk shit back and forth as they head to the water.
Oh, Kasha is about to be so pissed. At me.
I grin, though. I love it when she’s pissed.
Kasha launches her canoe into the water, and she jumps in and starts paddling at the same time Henley does. I watch, smirking as they paddle out to the middle, and then… they both panic.
Kasha screams as the canoe starts taking on water, and she starts scooping it out with her hands like that’s going to help. Weirdly, Henley is doing the same thing, but I only sabotaged Kasha.
As they scream at one another, each blaming the other for the sabotage, Davis laughs under his breath.
“I guess we think alike,” I muse, watching as Kasha and Henley abandon their sinking rides, and they go after each other, trying to dunk the other.
“They’re going to be really pissed when they realize it was us,” Davis says, sounding entertained.
“They’ll be furious,” I agree, smiling bigger.
Suddenly, the fight in the water stops, and two lethal pairs of eyes swing to us.
“This might get ugly,” Davis says as both the girls start swimming toward the edge, eyes still trained on us.
“Very ugly.”