by B. Cranford
And got the ball rolling.
Brighton: Hi.
Brighton: You two look cute over there.
Declan: Then why are you interrupting us?
Brighton: Because I love her.
Declan: I know.
Brighton: And if you wait too long, she’s going to worry. I don’t want my girl to worry, Declan.
Declan: I don’t want her to worry either.
Declan: I want it to be perfect.
Brighton: Can she see these messages?
Declan: What do you think?
Brighton: Hi Jay.
Brighton recognized the distinct laugh of her best friend and swiveled in her seat to look over at the booth where her friends both sat.
Declan: She says hi.
Brighton: So?
Declan: Brighton, I want to ask your best friend to marry me, but I’m nervous. Do you think she’ll say yes?
Declan: I kind of need her to say yes, is all.
As soon as the message made her phone vibrate, she heard a loud, shocked gasp and an even louder, more shocked, “Oh my God,” from Jade.
Brighton: *crying laughter emoji* *heart-eyes emoji*
Brighton: I’m certain she’ll say yes.
Declan: Me too, except . . .
Brighton: Except what?
Declan: She’s got me trapped in this booth. How can I propose properly when I can’t get out to get down on one knee?
“I’m moving, I’m moving.” Her voice carried throughout the entire bar as Jade slid across the seat and out of the booth.
Proposing.
Declan was proposing.
If she was truthful with herself—and with those voices in her head that had tried to tell her that something else was afoot—she’d known it was coming. But that didn’t prepare her for the jolt of adrenaline that rocked her body and her world at seeing her boyfriend’s text to Brighton.
Some might say it was an odd way of proposing, but Jade would always call it perfect.
Her eyes followed Declan as he followed her out of the booth and immediately dropped to one knee, laughing as he said, “I wonder what this floor will do to my pants,” with a comically chagrined look on his face.
She knew he was joking with her. He was always joking with her, teasing her, playing with her.
Loving her.
And it was the best feeling in the world.
“Don’t worry, Jackass, I’ll have you out of them in no time and it won’t be an issue anymore.”
Declan double-blinked at her promise and nodded eagerly. But as quickly as the teasing moment came, it passed. A serious look settled on his face, his gray eyes locked on hers, his voice holding just the smallest hint of nerves. He reached into his pocket and before he could say a word, Jade gave him her answer.
“Yes.”
“I love you, Freckles.”
“I love you, too. Yes.”
“I didn’t ask yet.” He frowned, like he was troubled by it but she knew him well-enough to know he wasn’t.
She was giving him the answer he hoped for. And he wasn’t the type of guy to second-guess anything. Not even her.
“You don’t need to. Yes.”
“Can I say one thing? Please?” He brought his hands together as if in prayer, unable to press his palms flat because of the ring box in his hand.
She nodded eagerly, wanting to know what he had to say, but desperate to get the ring on her finger and then get to the task of kissing the shit out of him.
“Freckles”—he began, clearing his throat and clasping one of her hands within his—“I love you. You’re my best friend. And you might be a little bit crazy, but here’s the thing. I love your crazy. And I really want to love it for the rest of my life. So. . .”
Somehow, Jade became aware that Brighton had slipped from her place at the bar and moved closer, her hand now pressed over her mouth. Clearly, she was trying to rein in her emotions and Jade gave a brief thought to trying to do the same.
It was impossible.
She watched as the man kneeling before her popped open the ring box with one hand, never letting her go with the other, and held it up for her to see.
A pink diamond surrounded by what Jade assumed was platinum. It was simple but stood out—eye-catching in the way Jade had always tried to be, but not over the top like she’d once strived for, when she was afraid of being forgotten.
She never had to worry about being forgotten by Declan.
“Will you marry me? Please?” It was a simple question but a question nonetheless. He wasn’t demanding she marry him. No, he was asking her and it was the easiest question she’d ever answered.
“Yes.”
The door of their house slammed against the wall and Jade followed soon thereafter. Declan had her pinned between his body and the hard, cool exposed brick that made up their entryway and was kissing her like his life depended on it.
And maybe it did.
She said yes. The reminder drove his arousal ever higher and he took a moment to pull back from their kiss and just look at her. Her demons had made the proposal come sooner than his original plan and he couldn’t be happier about it.
As soon as he’d seen the simple-but-expensive pink diamond ring, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to wait until Christmas Eve as he’d originally planned. And as the text messages started to roll in from Brighton, the idea that she was leading him somewhere he wanted to go—while protecting his girl’s heart, to boot—made it all crystal clear.
There was no point in waiting.
“Thank you for saying yes.” He spoke the words softly and punctuated them with a gentle kiss on the tip of her freckled nose. He’d mapped the freckles that covered her body more times than he could count and he swore he was always finding new ones.
“Thank you for asking. For not waiting.” Her response was equally quiet, but the lack of volume didn’t lessen their impact. She knew, as he did, that the longer he waited—on edge, struggling to keep the proposal a secret—the more she would worry about them.
Just because they were happy, in love and living together didn’t mean she was cured. And he never wanted to give her reason to doubt.
“Not waiting for this either”—he cupped his hand overtop her pussy hidden beneath the black suit pants that skimmed her legs and ended in his favorite pair of yellow heels—“so I hope you’re ready for me.”
“I am always ready for you.” The glint in her eyes told him she was telling the truth—and he knew from experience that she was, in fact, always ready for him.
It was fucking hot.
“The only reason these shoes are coming off is because you’re wearing pants. If I didn’t have to take them off you, I wouldn’t. I love these goddamn shoes.”
Jade was nodding along as he spoke, whether because of his words or because his hand was still pressed against her center, bearing down with just enough pressure to make her clit needy for more. “Please, please.” Her words were a moan, drawn out and desperate, and all the incentive he needed to move them toward their bedroom.
“I have you, Freckles. I’ll get you there.”
“Mm, yes. Declan . . .” His name trailed off her lips and became the beginning of a kiss so intense, Declan had to stop on the way to their room.
He stood in the center of their house, his fiancée wrapped around him, and lost himself in her mouth. Their tongues met, their lips moving together in a way that spoke of love and experience and need and, oh fuck, more need.
His brain shut down as he enjoyed the way her taste flooded his mouth and it was a minute—or maybe longer—before he realized she’d unhooked her legs from his waist and slid down his body. Now, she knelt before him, her hands already working on his belt, her eyes gazing up at him, blown with desire, and her new ring glinting in the moonlight spilling in through the skylight above them.
“I believe I promised to rid you of these pants.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cock, which was so hard it was clearl
y outlined behind the straining material. “And I am not one to break a promise.”
He didn’t interrupt her or help her. He just watched her as she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pushed them down to the floor, along with his black boxer-briefs. She maintained eye contact the entire time and so did he, even when her mouth engulfed him and he felt the urge to close his lids and just enjoy the sensation.
Instead, he forced himself to keep watching, to enjoy the visual of his wife-to-be on her knees, sucking him so hard, so perfect, he was already on the verge of an orgasm.
“Fu–fuck, I’m not going to last if you don’t stop.” He fisted his hands, trying to stop himself from grabbing a hold of her ponytail and using it to direct her movements, to draw her head back, to control her. “Sweetheart, you need . . . I need.”
Jade drew her head back, letting his dick pop from between her lips, before delicately wiping the corners of her mouth. It was subtly sexy and damn if Declan didn’t want to see her do it again and again and again.
But that would have to wait. He had more important things on his mind. Like getting her out of her pants and bending her over the sofa that was mere steps away.
The bedroom wasn’t going to happen. Not this time, anyway. He was out of patience and desperate to be inside his woman. “Stand up.” His voice was graveled and demanding, and Declan didn’t miss the way Jade’s body shivered when he directed her.
Once she was on her feet, he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead while using his hands to rip her blouse from the waist of her pants. “Clothes off.”
She nodded enthusiastically, working on her buttons and letting the silk flutter to the ground at their feet. In the meantime, his big hands were doing double-time to free her from her shoes and her pants, leaving her standing in front of him in nothing but a white lace bra and a pair of navy blue underwear that in no way matched. He rolled his eyes upward, muttering a prayer of thanks for her and her body and for lace before he ripped the panties down her legs and directed her to lose the bra with a gruff, “This. Off.”
When she was finally, blessedly naked, he looked her up and down in appreciation of the spectacular view in front of him. A view he’d be enjoying for the rest of their lives.
Colorful tattoos. Nipples pierced and pouting. Curves that molded to his hands and drove him wild. He couldn’t stop the groan/growl/sound of desperation that escaped him, but it soon morphed into a laugh when he looked down at his own body.
His pants and underwear were around his ankles, pooled over the top of his Hugo Boss shoes, while his shirt remained in place, his barely knotted tie lying haphazardly over the material. Meanwhile, his cock stood out, hard and proud and ready. “Good look, don’t cha think?”
The smile that caressed Jade’s face was heart-stopping. She was happy. He’d made her happy. And soon, the corny, pun-loving side of him thought, she’ll have her happy ending.
He pointed a finger at her—“You, turn around and lean over the arm of the couch”—and marveled as she obeyed easily. Her body moved fluidly as she covered the short distance and folded herself over so her ass was exposed to him.
Freckles everywhere I look.
A hand he didn’t consciously remember moving stroked his arousal in long, lazy pumps—just enough to make pleasure blister his every nerve-ending, but not enough to end this before it began. “Freckles.” He bit down on his lip, not so hard as to draw blood, but damn close by his estimation. He was testing his every limit.
“Why am I still waiting, Jackass? Come on already.” She gave him a look over her shoulder that was a mixture of impatience and impertinence and before she had a chance to turn her head back again, he was there behind her, bringing a hand down on her ass cheek in punishment for her sass.
“I’ll come on when I’m good and fucking ready.” He rubbed a hand over the reddening place, feeling the warmth of his slap against his palm and used his free hand to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t stop touching her perfect body, stroking his hand up and over her hip, down to the opposite cheek before administering a second slap, leaving twin handprints on both sides of her ass.
“Oh God. Oh, yes,” Her moan told him she was as into the moment as he was, but it didn’t stop him from leaning over her back just enough that he could quietly ask, “Okay?” waiting for her nod before he gave her one last spank.
This time, he aimed for her pussy. And scored a direct hit.
He stroked through her wetness a few times, parting her lips and tap, tap, tapping his index finger on her swollen clit before withdrawing his hand entirely so he could finally, finally remove his tie and strip his shirt from his broad shoulders.
Then, lining up his cock with her glistening center, he slammed home, earning a drawn out groan from himself and two demanding, staccato words from his woman.
“Now. Harder.”
It was all Jade could do not to come. Declan was creating tremors in her that ran the length of her spine and sent flashes of light to her eyes. Her body was riding the fine edge of orgasm.
She needed to come, dammit.
“Dec, Dec, fuck me. Please.” The words spilled from her mouth, telling her that she’d lost any and all control she had over her body. He did as she asked, slamming into her time and again, occasionally landing a hand on her already red ass and then caressing the sting away. “Gonna co–co—oh, shit.”
Her first orgasm as an engaged woman made her body stiffen briefly and then shudder and shake with the shock of pleasure that was lighting her up from within. She could feel Declan’s hand snake around her body and down to her clit, pinching the sensitive bud between two fingers, ensuring that he wrung every last drop out of her climax.
“Your turn,” she mumbled into the cushion of their couch, her body too relaxed for her to even raise her head.
“Not yet. You have another coming, Freckles.”
She nodded, then shook her head, trying to decide if she could, in fact, come again, but Declan didn’t let up. His fingers moved down from her clit, stroking around the root of his dick, gathering moisture as he thrust in and out of her soaking pussy. Then, before she knew what was happening, one of those fingers was up against her puckered hole, stroking lightly before pressing down and breaching the ring of muscle.
Her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. She wasn’t always into ass play, but when she was . . . She broke off her train of thought with a laugh that turned into a wanton noise of need as Declan added a second finger to the first and began rubbing and scissoring and moving them in and out in time with his cock.
“Goddammit, Jade. This ass is—” his words cut off as she practically screamed his name, then picked up where he left off—“tight and hot and I’m going to need to get in there, come in there sometime. Soon. Yes?”
Jade frantically nodded, repeating an eager, “Yes” at least four times before all words ceased to exist for her.
Speechless. Her man used his mouth, his fingers and his glorious cock to render her speechless. And when she finally managed to find words with which to communicate, they were straight to the point. “Coming. Now.”
“Me too, sweetheart. Let go.” He fucked himself into her three more times, his fingers adding some sort of twist move that sent her flying over the edge, and as she gasped out her pleasure, she listened to him whisper her future name over and over and over again.
And thought to herself that she couldn’t fucking wait to be Jade Young.
Five Weeks Before Christmas
“Do you think it would be possible to put together a wedding in time for Christmas?” Jade looked up at Brighton, who was currently sitting on the gray couch. The couch that Jade knew had been moved from the first place Bright and Seb had lived together, to Bright’s apartment when they were apart, and finally to here, in their split-level ranch style house.
“Depends. Are we talking hand-beaded, organically sourced lace wedding dress with genetically-engineered tulips in the exact
color of pink your hair was the first time you met Declan? Or something . . . simpler?”
From where she was seated cross-legged on the floor, playing with Stella, Jade snickered. “You haven’t forgotten that I’m a lowly office manager, have you? Hand-beaded, genetically-engineered isn’t exactly in my budget.”
“Hey, I happen to know my husband pays you quite well. And that your fi-an-cé”—Brighton moved her head side to side as she drew the word out for emphasis—“is rolling in it, so don’t be acting like you couldn’t have that if you wanted it.”
“Okay then, you know I don’t want all that fanfare, right?” Jade watched as Stella reached out for a small colorful ball that had a rattle inside it, growing frustrated that it was just out of reach for her chubby hand. “Here you go, sweetie,” she cooed as she prodded the ball a little closer, making it so the baby could grasp it.
And then fling it halfway across the room when her arms flailed in delight.
“No, I know. If I know you like I think I do, I’m guessing we could absolutely make it work. ‘Make it work.’”
“Was that your Tim Gunn impression?”
“Yeah, good, right?”
Jade snickered. Then guffawed. And then broke into out-and-out laughter. “Fuck no—oh shit, I mean . . .” She trailed off, trying to calm herself enough so she could explain to Brighton that impressions were not her strong suit and also stop swearing in front of Stella, who was now staring at her Aunt Jade with a strange look on her face.
“So what you’re trying to say is, no, it was not good?”
“That is exactly what I was going for, thank you.” Jade sniffed the air, a noxious odor assaulting her nostrils. “Can you smell that—oh, for crying out loud, what is it with your pets and kid when I’m here?”
“What are you talking about?” Brighton asked, swooping down in one graceful movement to scoop her daughter off the floor. “Follow me and explain, please.”
Jade stood and began following Brighton down the hallway to the nursery. “Lowe and the great dog poop incident? When I was pet sitting and sick, and your dog decided to practically paint the place with poop?”