#Heart (Hashtag #6)

by Cambria Hebert

  I slid the ring onto her finger, sighing in relief that it fit. I had a pretty good idea it would, considering I snooped around in her jewelry box before Romeo and I went to the jewelry store.

  “This is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.” Ivy pulled her hand back and thrust it underneath a few low-hanging lights. She turned her hand this way and that, watching it catch the light with brilliance.

  “Cushion cut?” she asked, glancing at me.

  I nodded. Figured she’d know what it was. The lady at the counter had to tell me.

  When I first looked at it, all I saw was a large, sparkly rectangle on a shiny band.

  It was a two and a half-carat emerald style, cushion-cut diamond solitaire in a traditional four-prong setting. Each corner of the diamond had a small ball of white gold where the diamond was fastened.

  The band was simple white gold, thin in comparison to the size of the stone.

  It was simple, but it was classy, and it was the kind of ring that would hopefully never go out of style. I’d been nervous making this final decision, because Ivy was so trendy and into fashion, but the woman said when choosing something like this, classic was best.

  “I figured I could get you a wedding band of all diamonds, add a little more sparkle to your finger.” I rubbed the back of my neck as I spoke.

  Why was she being so quiet? Did she not like it? Was it too simple?

  “It doesn’t need any extra sparkle. I absolutely love it.”

  “Yeah?” Damn, I felt like a man just given a second chance at life.

  “Are you kidding? It’s stunning. And it’s huge!” She gasped and looked over her shoulder at me. “How the hell did you pay for this?”

  I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”

  It was on credit. After I signed a contract with the NFL, I’d just pay it off.

  She started to twist it off her finger, shaking her head. “It’s way too much. I don’t need something this fancy.”

  I caught her hand and shoved it back down her finger. “The hell you don’t,” I growled. “That doesn’t come off. Ever.”

  “I’d be just as happy with something a quarter of this size.”

  “I wouldn’t.” Like I’d freaking hand my girl anything less.

  She should know better.

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and she looked down at it again. It was just a ring, the thing all women loved to wear. It seemed dumb to me before, to stake your claim with a piece of stone.

  But seeing it sitting there, circling her finger, it wasn’t dumb. It was perfect. It was just one more way I could claim her as mine.

  “I really do love it.” She seemed to feel guilty.

  “Look at me,” I said and grasped her face. “The price of this ring is small compared to the way I feel about you.”

  Her lower lip wobbled.

  Oh shit.

  I pulled it into my mouth and sucked it gently. She grabbed my wrists and clung to me to deepen the kiss.

  A forceful blast of air came out of nowhere, and she shivered. I led her back to the blankets and piled them on top us both. “I know it’s cold out. We can go.”

  “No way!” she protested. “All we need is some Boone’s Farm.” She giggled.

  I groaned. That shit was nasty.

  I reached into the corner of the bed and pulled out a bag. Inside were two red solo cups and a clear container of orange juice.

  When she saw it, she laughed.

  “No Boone’s for you,” I said and poured her some juice, and she sipped it, making a sound of pleasure in the back of her throat. It made me horny.

  “You promise this isn’t because of the baby?”

  “It’s not because of the baby,” I vowed. “I was always going to marry you, Blondie. I just asked a little faster is all.”

  “You make me so happy.” The sincerity in her voice was honest and real.

  “Times two.”

  We lay down in the blankets and stared up at the stars, both paper and real. Ivy’s hand began to wander, caressing my chest and abs, teasing me with her trailing fingertips beneath my shirt. When her hand unfastened the button on my jeans, my breath caught in my throat.

  She delved beneath the waistband of my boxers and wrapped a hand around my already throbbing cock. She didn’t say anything as she slowly jacked me until my tip was moistened with precum and my balls drew taut.

  The tips of her fingers were damp from my need, and she delved deeper into my boxers so she could gently massage my tightened sack with the small amount of silky wetness.

  My moan floated up into the sky, and I felt her smile against my shoulder.

  “I’d have a lot better access if you were wearing less,” she whispered in my ear, punctuating the words with a scrape of teeth across my earlobe.

  Needless to say, every article of clothing I was wearing disappeared.

  She made a sound of appreciation when I leaned back against the blankets. Her tongue flicked out over my nipple, and it hardened instantly. Using her teeth, she drew the tiny pebble up and into her mouth, where she lavished it with her tongue and suckled deeply.

  My cock was practically weeping now. I could feel the moisture on my lower belly. I was so fucking turned on I was afraid I’d blow the second she touched me again.

  Ivy left my nipple and moved the other one. After she sucked and teased it as well, I was subconsciously thrusting my hips into the space beneath the blankets. She purred, kissing down the center of my chest, stopping to delve her tongue into my belly button and then circle around. She drew up onto her knees, knelt beside me, and continued downward.

  I moaned again when she buried her face in the short nest of springy curls just above my cock. She nuzzled them with her nose and lips while her fingertips lightly dragged over my inner thigh.

  I spread my legs, giving her more access. Her fingers explored the sensitive flesh just behind my sack. She dragged a finger across it, applying just the right amount of pressure. At the exact same moment, she lifted her head slightly and caught my eye.

  I felt drunk when I stared down my body at her. Her freaking teasing was making me useless.

  Lightly, she drummed her fingers against my balls and then dragged her fingers back down that line of sensitized skin. Her tongue shot out and she lapped at all the moisture my cock had leaked on my lower abs.

  She made a sound like it was delicious as she laved it up and continued to play below my cock.

  I jerked up and a curse fell from my lips. She laughed and sucked one of my balls into her mouth. Then she moved to the other.

  “Ivy,” I groaned. “I’m gonna fucking come before we even have sex.”

  In response, she jerked my cock up, holding it straight up from my body and slid her lips down over the shaft.

  The warm moisture of her mouth, the just-right pressure of her lips, and the way her tongue seemed to wrap around the head of my cock like it was looking for more juice to swallow was my undoing.

  My hips surged up; I bucked like a fucking wild bull. Ivy went with me, and I grabbed her hair, holding her against my crotch as an orgasm ripped out of me and poured against her tongue.

  She rocked into me, her entire body thrusting with pleasure as she drank me down. I closed my eyes because I couldn’t see and feel something so powerful at the same time.

  Too soon, I was empty and lying back against the blankets.

  I felt bereft.

  Sad.

  I wanted more. I wanted so much more.

  Ivy released my cock, and it fell against my stomach. Then she giggled and nipped at my head, making me hiss out a breath.

  “You’re still hard,” she observed.

  “That’s because you’re the fucking cock whisperer,” I moaned.

  She licked up my length like I was a giant lollipop and she was addicted to sugar. My still-hard length jumped in response to her touch.

  Abruptly, she left me, standing up in the center of the blankets. I watched her through
half-closed eyes, and she reached beneath the skirt she was wearing and slid her panties down her thighs.

  I had a sudden burst of energy and I sat up, wrapped my hands around her ankles, and then slid my palms up, grazing the backs of her calves, behind her knees, and then finally to her inner thighs.

  I climbed up beneath her skirt and pushed her thighs apart. Her legs were trembling when I dove into her wet and ready center. She was dripping for me, and I drank her in the same way she’d done me. I slipped the tip of my tongue in her slit, penetrating her core just enough that she could feel it.

  Her knees buckled, and she grabbed onto my shoulders. She fell forward, over my head, and I eased her down onto the blankets, face first.

  The bare cheeks of her ass peeked out from the skirt, and I growled. She had a nice fucking ass. I shoved the fabric up to reveal it all and reached between her thighs again.

  “Oh,” she said when I slipped two fingers in her from behind.

  She tilted up her round ass to give me better access, and I nipped at her flesh with my teeth as I moved my fingers inside her.

  Unable to take the separation any longer, I positioned myself behind her. My still rock-hard cock slid along her ass cheeks and down to her drenched center.

  I pushed into her opening and buried myself so far that her ass hit my hips.

  “This okay, baby?” My voice was gruff with pleasure, but even so, I wanted to be sure it was just as good for her.

  “More,” she whimpered and bore down on my cock. The walls of her core flexed around me, and I started to move. I slid in and out of her, holding on to her hips and taking in the sweet view of her behind.

  When I felt the first stirring of another orgasm, I let out a moan.

  She moaned too and wiggled onto me a little farther.

  “That’s it,” I murmured and bent at the waist, bringing my front against her back. I kept thrusting into her even as I reached around her and found the bud between her folds.

  She was so swollen and sensitized she cried out the second my thumb brushed over it. I increased the pressure on the area and rubbed and teased until she began shuddering around me. Her cries of release were the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard.

  A few more thrusts inside her and I came again. Bright spots exploded behind my eyes, and I pulled out so I could collapse beside her.

  She was still lying on her stomach, and she turned her head to look at me. “Sex under the stars is my favorite.”

  I grinned. “Tell me you like my cock.”

  “I think me moaning in ecstasy a few seconds ago was pretty much the same thing.”

  I brushed the hair away from her face. “I can’t wait to call you my wife.”

  “Thank you, Braeden.”

  My brow wrinkled. “For what?”

  “For picking me. For being everything I always used to think you weren’t.”

  I laughed. “Thank you for making me work for it. And for sticking around when I didn’t get it right on the first try.”

  She lifted her hand and stared at the ring and sighed. I grabbed her hand and kissed it.

  She said yes.

  Finally.

  I was getting married.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Rimmel

  Maybe a wedding wasn’t just about two people.

  Or even four in my case.

  Maybe it was a celebration for an entire family, and this whole time I had been going about it all wrong.

  Or maybe I was just really happy I was already married and Romeo and I had the best ceremony any girl like me could ask for.

  I knew before Braeden and Ivy even left our party at Screamerz the next time I saw them, they would be engaged. Ivy couldn’t resist Braeden when he brought out his charm, and according to Romeo, he had it out in full force the night he proposed.

  It had taken me months to figure out what I wanted for our wedding despite being asked almost on a daily basis. But then one day, it became so crystal clear, and it happened not because of just Romeo and me, but because of our family.

  It was quite clear to me the night of our engagement that the press was important to Romeo’s career. After all, football depended on fans just like books depended on readers. What better way to inspire fans than by giving them something to root for, something to identify with, something to love?

  It got me to thinking.

  And then the morning Braeden was basically set free from Robert’s warpath, his career inadvertently became tenuous.

  No, no one else realized this, except maybe Anthony, but like me, Anthony wasn’t about to rain on the good news parade.

  Early on, I seemed to understand what it took the others longer to figure out, perhaps because I knew what the press was like—how they could turn on you over something as silly and minimal as an outfit choice.

  Murder was a lot more serious than clothes.

  After the scene Robert made at the party, it was only a matter of time before the paparazzi came snooping.

  What they needed was something else to focus on. Something positive that would help my family and the Knights at the same time.

  And so our wedding plans were born.

  Valerie was skeptical at first, until I whipped out my phone and made a few calls.

  To Ron Gamble to be exact.

  He’d given me his private number once, but I’d never used it. Until now.

  Ron knew a good idea when he heard one, so he was quick to agree to what I wanted.

  That’s all it took to get Valerie on board, and I knew without a doubt we would have the best football-themed wedding the entire state of Maryland had ever seen.

  When B and Ivy got engaged immediately after, it was pretty much fate. It was only natural for Romeo and me to include them. They were family, and as I discovered, that’s what weddings were about.

  What had originally began as a wedding for two became a wedding for four.

  Romeo and me. Braeden and Ivy.

  A double wedding to be held at the Knights football stadium right in the center of the field. It would be a huge affair, yet Valerie would make sure it remained exclusive. After all, the most sought-after things were always exclusive.

  Not only would this event make a splash in the media, but also in the football world. It would give the press something to ask about besides the rumors surrounding Braeden.

  But above everything else, it would truly be a day for our entire family to remember.

  There was also a side bonus for me. Since Valerie and now Ivy were deeply involved in the planning, I didn’t have to do much of it.

  Score.

  We chose the Knights colors for our theme, and then Ivy decided instead of sending traditional invitations, we would send tickets to the “game.”

  It became quite the thing to be one of the lucky ones to get a “ticket” in the mail.

  Magazines and publications became more aggressive about exclusive rights to the wedding photos. And while Valerie and Ivy were busy planning menus and centerpieces, I made a side deal of my own.

  I offered Rachel Wintor at People the exclusive.

  But I didn’t want money.

  I wanted a full-page article about Braeden. All positive press. All about the rising star being drafted this year.

  She agreed like I knew she would.

  The entire month of March passed in a blur. I accepted the job running the animal shelter, kept up with my course load, and in every spare moment we had, we prepped for the wedding.

  My grandparents and dad were coming, and Ivy’s entire family (which was huge) was also on the guest list.

  Her mother came to help us shop for wedding gowns—a moment I found to be insanely bittersweet.

  I sat in the dress shop and watched them together, mother and daughter, as close as I knew my mother and I would be if she’d been alive. I kept the pain I felt at her absence inside; I didn’t want to dampen anyone’s spirit during this happy time.

  April came, and the day of the
wedding arrived.

  We were all staying at the same gorgeous hotel Romeo and I stayed the night we got engaged. Romeo somehow managed to get us the same exact suite we’d had that night.

  Ivy was adamant that the guys not see us until the ceremony because it was bad luck. The thought of not spending the night in Romeo’s arms almost had me telling her we were already married so it didn’t matter… but I kept my mouth shut.

  It was easy to get caught up in the wedding spirit, and I kind of liked the idea of torturing Romeo with a night alone.

  It would make our “wedding night” that much sweeter.

  So the night before, Ivy came up to our suite and Romeo went to Ivy and B’s. Since my room was the biggest, it made sense the brides would use it to get ready for the wedding the morning of.

  The ceremony wasn’t until the early afternoon, so I thought we’d have a relaxing morning around the room, but when Ivy plopped down on my bed way early, my daydreams were thwarted.

  I groaned, opening one eye. “It’s too early.” I begged for five more minutes.

  “We’re getting married!” Ivy said. “We don’t have time for sleep!”

  “How do you—a pregnant woman with morning sickness—have more energy than me?” I groaned.

  “I brought you a present!”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so!” I said and rolled to the center of the big bed and patted the side I’d just been lying in.

  Ivy laughed and climbed in next to me. In her hands, she had a large white box with a white satin bow.

  After I slid my glasses on, she put it in my lap.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” I told her, touched that she did.

  “Are you kidding? What kind of maid of honor would I be if I didn’t?”

  I grinned and tore into the paper to reveal a white box. I pulled off the lid and brushed aside the tissue paper.

  “Ivy!” I shrieked. “Oh my gosh, these are so amazing!”

  “I know!” She agreed with just as much excitement.

  It was a pair of white Converse sneakers. In place of the laces were white satin ribbons, and the toes were studded with sparkling clear crystals. I lifted them reverently and held them in my hands.

  I turned them sideways and gasped again.