Accidental Fiancé
Page 72
Tessie gestured at me to come with her and we went to the largest of the dressing rooms, one that had been specifically set aside for the brides who would hopefully swarm to the shop. Thus far I had been the only one to use it, twice now, but I still got a little shiver of excitement when I stepped through the door and into the room. It was large enough to hold a davenport, small table fully equipped with tissues, a rack for clothing, and shelves to store accessories that the bride might want to try on along with their dress. One whole wall was mirrored, with a small platform in front of it positioned there to allow brides to see the way that their skirt would fall. Tessie hung my dress on the hook in one wall and carefully unzipped the garment bag as I undressed. I took up the undergarments that I had stored in the shelves during my last fitting and shimmied into them, having a brief moment of regret for the biscuits and gravy I had had for breakfast that morning.
When the dress dropped over my head, I felt like the rest of the world disappeared around me. The fabric fell around my body like a dream and molded to me perfectly as Tessie zipped the back then secured the long row of buttons that stretched from the scooped back to my hips. My eyes filled with tears as my fingertips traced the beaded lace of the bodice and the softly squared neckline. It was exactly what I wanted.
“I wasn’t sure when you said that you didn’t want to do white,” Tessie said, coming to stand beside me and wrap an arm around my waist, “but you look amazing.”
I nodded and looked down at the skirt. The delicate pink color was more like a breath of color than a real shade, reminding of the glow of candlelight through a glass of sweet wine. When I was a little girl I had always told my daddy that I wanted to get married in a pink dress, drawing him pictures of bubblegum-colored confections overflowing with ruffles and sequins. He had never laughed at me or suggested that that might not be a choice that I would really want to make.
Bless him and all of the similar lies that he told me growing up.
Instead, he had just kissed me on the top of my head and told me that I was going to be the most beautiful bride in the world. I missed him bitterly now as I stood on the platform and gazed at my finally finished gown. In two weeks I would walk down the aisle by myself, wearing the old iron key to the house that he always carried on a ribbon around my wrist, and knowing that he was there with me, at last seeing me as a bride in my pink wedding dress.
****
Richard
With the exception of the first moment that I saw Clementine, I had never seen anything as beautiful as Rue walking down the aisle toward me in her wedding dress. Hundreds of candles filled the room, gleaming off of the chandelier overhead and seeming to dapple her long train with pinpoints of light as it slid slowly along behind her. The rows of chairs on either side of the aisle were completely full, the gathering of our guests stretching far into the back of the room until I wondered just how much of the altar those in the back could really see in the dancing candlelight, but all I could focus on was her.
When she reached the end of the aisle, Rue leaned down to touch a kiss to Clementine’s head where she slept in my mother’s arms. Mother looked up at Rue and I saw them meet eyes. They still didn’t adore each other, and I didn’t expect any type of epiphany in their relationship any time soon, but meeting Clementine had softened something between them and I could see a path opening where they might one day wander into some sort of bond. I walked down off of the small stage that created our altar and joined her at the head of the aisle, leaning down to give Clementine my own kiss. I straightened and took Rue’s arm, guiding her up the stairs toward where our officiant stood. Both of our hands grasped between us, we stared into each other’s eyes, not thinking of anything in those moments but each other and the sacred, deeply meaningful words that fell around us.
As the ceremony ended and I leaned in to kiss her for the first time as my wife, the thought suddenly occurred to me that I was immeasurably fortunate that I had waited for her, that I had allowed myself to do something as out of character as to not go after Flora, and something as impetuous as to go after Rue. No matter how much I once thought that I did, or how much others told me that I did, I knew then that I didn’t understand those words before. They would have meant nothing to me if I had closed myself off to the possibility of the life that I wanted, and instead gone along with what was expected of me. Even if I had said them, they would have carried no weight, had no impact. I wouldn’t have felt any change. Now, though, I felt that something had changed within me. Saying those words to Rue had been more precious, more impactful than anything I could have imagined, and I knew that there was nothing that would ever take me away from her.
We had planned our wedding so that it spanned two days, exchanging our vows on one and then celebrating with a reception that went through the night. We were still dancing as the first hints of pink and purple light started showing up on the horizon and the light of the new morning began to glow through the huge windows on either side of the reception hall. Our energy was starting to fade, and our dancing had been largely reduced to simply standing in the middle of the dancefloor and swaying vaguely to the rhythm of the music, but I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want the magic of the night to end and give up the feeling of my brand-new wife, still wearing her gown, still smiling in the way she had since the ceremony, in my arms even for a moment. She leaned against my chest and sighed.
“I think that they put on this music to put us to sleep,” she murmured.
I looked around the dancefloor and saw that there were only a few other couple still scattered throughout the space. The rest of our guests were sitting at the tables or lounging on the vintage sofas and chairs that Christopher had arranged in the corners of the room. They looked completely drained, but none wanted to leave before we did.
“Are you ready to leave?” I asked.
She sighed and cuddled closer to me.
“Let’s just finish this song.”
As if Christopher could read her mind and had alerted the kitchen, waiters started streaming out of the back carrying trays of coffee and pastries for the guests, completing the progression of indulgent treats that we had served that started with a sumptuous dinner and lavish desserts after the ceremony and was followed by milk and cookies at midnight. I noticed that a few guests seemed to have spiked their milk, which I thought probably accounted for those who were still with us on the dancefloor.
The song ended, and we walked hand-in-hand off of the dancefloor and toward the microphone at the far end of the room.
“Is anyone out there still awake?” I asked.
A few of the guests laughed and I heard a distinct bellow from somewhere in one of the lounge areas.
“Good to hear, Bubba Ray,” I said. “I just wanted to say thank you so much to every one of you who joined Rue and me here to celebrate our wedding. We can’t think of anything more important than having the people we care about with us as we start this new chapter in our lives. There’s so much more that I could say, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a couple of you take out eye masks and pillows so I’m going to go ahead and wrap it up. Thank you again. Drive safely and have a good day’s sleep!”
Our guests rushed outside clutching the tiny bottles that had been handed out and as Rue and I rushed out a sea of bubbles tumbled down around us. She squealed with glee as she leapt into the back of our limo, the one white vehicle among the fleet that I had hired to bring everyone from the Hollow to the wedding, and I laughed as I jumped in after her. I closed the door and the limo took off, heading toward the hotel where we would spend the next two days before leaving on our honeymoon, with Clementine in tow.
“I think that Clementine deserves to have a little brother,” I said, reaching out to grab hold of Rue and sweep her over so she lay across my lap, her arms looped around my neck.
“Oh, really?” she asked.
I nodded, biting my lip.
“Only this time, we’re doing it the old-fashioned way.”
THE END
Hot Daddy
Alright, alright, alright.
Women say I sound just like Matthew McConaughey.
And owning half of Texas, life can't get any better.
Until my inheritance is threatened by Tiffany, my b*tch of a half-sister.
Well sugar, that sh*t ain't happenin'!
The only way to stop her is to get married.
It's in my parents' will.
Fortunately, I know just the candidate - Amanda.
She lights me up as bright as the Dallas sky.
All I can think of is her riding me cowgirl while wearing my Stetson.
But there's more to it.
She's actually making my playboy @ss consider settling down.
I'll do everything in my power to win her over.
Including something I have never done before, introduce her to my son.
This is our chance, for our happily ever after.
But Tiffany has other plans, one that doesn't involve my inheritance or Amanda...
Chapter One
Brady
“I've never done it in a skybox before,” she purred.
“Looks like you can check it off your bucket list then, sugar,” I reply.
She gives me a seductive little smile. “Anybody ever say you sound just like Matthew McConaughey when you talk?”
I look at her and smile. “Is that a good thing?”
“It's definitely a good thing,” she says. “It's sexy.”
I flash her a devilish little grin. “Well, alright, alright, alright.”
She giggles and goes back to giving me a mind-blowingly amazing blowjob. I look at the packed stadium outside the windows of my skybox and smile. I love football – almost as much as I love a good blowjob. But football is the thing I'm most passionate about in life. I've loved it since I was a kid, when my dad used to take me to the games. That love affair only grew stronger when my dad, founder of the Keating Technologies empire, bought an NFL team – the San Antonio Copperheads. Which automatically became my favorite team.
I remember going to the games with him when I was a kid. Dreamed of wearing the black and copper colored uniforms, of making big plays on Sundays. I remember sitting in the big luxury box above the field and taking it all in, thinking it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I remember going down onto the sidelines and into the locker room to meet some of the players – some of my idols growing up.
Of course, back then, I never imagined taking in the games the way I currently was – sitting in my luxury box in a stadium packed to the rafters with screaming fans – and having a gorgeous little blonde face down in my lap working my cock like she had something to prove.
I tangle my hands in her hair, giving it a firm pull as she works her mouth and hand in unison on my thick, hard shaft. She looks up at me with a flirty little smile and a sexy little gleam in her eyes as she traces the tip of her tongue around the head of my cock, stroking me at the same time.
The crowd outside the luxury box roars, making me smile down at her.
“Damn, darlin', you're so good, you can get a stadium of sixty-five thousand people on their feet,” I say, knowing full well that nobody can see through the smoked glass tinting of the windows.
“Shut up,” she giggles. “I would kill you if anybody could see us. What would my momma think?”
“Honey, I gotta believe she'd think she raised a damn fine young woman.”
She smacks my thigh playfully and then squeezes the base of my cock nice and hard before taking all of it back into her mouth. She tightens her mouth around me, moving her head up and down, licking and sucking hard and fast. I lean my head back on the chair and moan, my eyes rolling back in my head.
“You locked the door behind you when you came in, didn't you, sweetheart?” I ask.
She nods and mumbles – it's probably a little difficult for her to talk with her mouth full. She keeps moving her head up and down though, cupping my balls and giving them a firm squeeze, making my breath catch in my throat. This girl has the whole sweet, Catholic, girl-next-door look about her, but there is nothin' innocent about this one – which I'm very happy about. Obviously.
I look at the door again, hoping she actually had locked it. The last thing I want is for somebody to walk in on us during our little tryst. Not that it would be the first time I'd been caught screwing one of the hospitality girls in my skybox. I'm not big on putting on shows for people though. Believe it or not, but I do have some morals – a few, anyway.
I glance at the clock and realize halftime is coming to an end soon. I need to speed things up so I don't miss any of the game. Or the meeting I have scheduled that I'm already dreading.
I pull the girl to her feet and then stand up. She giggles and licks her lips seductively. She is a gorgeous little thing – no more than twenty-two or twenty-three-years-old, five foot three, a hundred and fifteen pounds soaking wet, with blonde hair, deep green eyes, and a luscious, curvy, deliciously tight little body. A body I can most definitely get used to banging.
And if she behaves herself, maybe we'll just have to have an encore performance at next week's game.
Leaning down, I kiss her hard, cupping her breasts through her tight white uniform shirt. She wraps her legs around my waist when I pick her up and carry her over to the bar, sitting her down on top of it. I kiss her neck as I work at the buttons on her shirt, finally getting it undone.
I drop her shirt on the bar, her bra quickly following. She gasps when I gave her stiff nipples a nice, hard pinch. Leaning down I take one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking and nibbling on it as I squeeze and knead her other breast in my hand.
She reaches her hand down and takes hold of my cock, giving it a nice, hard tug. I moan and look her in the eye, enjoying the sensation of her small, smooth hand sliding up and down my stiff cock.
“I don't have much time,” she says, her sweet Texas accent dripping like honey. “I need to get back to work soon.”
“Don't worry,” I reply. “I'll write you a note if you're late. I'm the boss, so what can they do?”
Sliding my hand up her skirt, I grab hold of her panties and slide them down, tossing them on the pile with her shirt and bra. She bites her bottom lip and gives me a seductive little smile. Damn, this girl is sexy.
She parts her thighs as I step forward, positioning myself between them. Kissing her, I slide my hands up her thighs, relishing the feel of her smooth, silky stockings. She reaches over and picks up my black Stetson, putting on top of her head and gives me a flirty little look – and I have to admit, it's kind of sexy.
“Giddyap, cowboy,” she purrs.
“Yes, ma'am,” I say.
I quickly slip on a condom as she wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me forward. Locking her hands behind my neck, she looks me in the eye and kisses me hard, our tongues swirling together in her mouth hard and fast. She pulls back, a little breathless.
“I need to feel you inside of me, Brady,” she gasps. “Fuck me now, baby.”
Grabbing hold of my stiff prick, she guides me to her hot, wet little opening. With one solid thrust, I drive myself deep into her, making her cry out as I fill her up completely.
“Yes, baby,” she says. “God, yes.”
She is dripping wet and I thrust my hips in a hard rhythm, moving inside of her with ease. I grab hold of her ass and pull her closer to me as I start to bang her harder and faster. Kissing her neck, nipping at it, I run my tongue down to her sweet, perky little tits.
She's moaning loudly, calling my name as I bury my cock into her again and again. I look out through the windows and see the teams are starting to come back out onto the field. She squeals and giggles as I pull her down off the bar, turn her around, and bend her over it, and then give that sweet little ass a firm smack.
She looks back at me over her
shoulder, a salacious expression on her face as I push her skirt up around her waist. I take a moment to admire the view of her firm, tight little ass, and toned legs encased in her black stockings and heels.
“You are damn fine, darlin'” I say.
“Thanks,” she purrs. “Now stick it in and fuck me.”
“Yes, ma'am,” I reply – she doesn't need to ask me twice.
Stepping up behind her, I grab my cock and slip the head of it into her opening. I grab her shoulders and pull her back at the same moment I thrust myself forward, driving my cock deep inside of her. She gasps and moans, pushing back against me as I pound her from behind. Grabbing a handful of her hair, I gave it a hard yank, pulling her head backward, making her call my name.
I drive my cock into her harder and faster, relishing the feeling of how tight and wet she is. With one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip, I slam my cock into her again and again. Her breathing is growing ragged, shallower, and a moment later, I feel her entire body stiffen. A moment after that, she cries out so loud as her orgasm tears through her, I'm half afraid the people in the seats below my skybox heard her.