Champagne & Forever

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Champagne & Forever Page 12

by Andrea Johnston


  On instinct, I pull three beers from the bin but pause and put one back looking at Ashton. She smiles in appreciation as I grab a bottled water for her instead.

  “Thanks, Owen.” Her eyes glisten, and she bats her hand in front of her face. “Sorry, hormones. Apparently, I cry a lot when I’m pregnant. Oh,” she gasps, “that’s the first time I’ve really said it out loud. Wow, guys. We’re going to have a baby.” She looks around at our group, and we all raise our bottles in a toast to the new addition to our crew.

  Shots soon follow, and we stand around talking like it’s just any other Saturday night with our group of friends. I suppose in many ways it is. We’re just a new version of who we’ve always been. And we’re dressed much nicer than usual.

  The DJ switches up the music a little and some older dance music fills the tent. The girls are dancing in their spots where we stand. Drinks in hand, swaying together, and laughing. Then Ashton stops mid-spin and stares at the dance floor, mouth agape, a look of horror in her eyes. The girls see her and stop too. Eventually all of us turn our attention to what is happening just a few feet away.

  “Ah hell, what are they doing? Someone’s bound to break a hip.”

  We all laugh at Ashton’s comment. It’s almost as if she didn’t mean to say it out loud because she blushes slightly and shrugs her shoulder. I know she means her parents and family members, but they aren’t old by any means. We stand and watch for a few minutes as the dance floor fills with the older crowd dancing, arms in the air, singing along to the music, and having what looks like the time of their lives. One of the aunts must have heard Ashton’s remark because she dances her way over to where we’re standing and dances dramatically in front of Ashton who playfully pushes her, laughing.

  For the next few minutes, several of the aunts and uncles repeat the move and soon the girls have joined everyone on the dance floor. When a song I’m not very familiar with comes on, the older crew spreads out creating two lines facing one another. It looks like a line dance but the music most definitely isn’t country so I’m not sure what’s happening.

  I look to the guys, and they all look equally confused. “Uh, what the fuck is happening?” Jameson asks. We all shrug but take a few tentative steps toward the rest of the crowd. Suddenly, one at a time, they start dancing down the aisle of people. Some of the uncles are doing a little shuffle, but the aunts seem to be really into it.

  Ashton pulls Jameson toward her and puts her hands on his hips, encouraging him to dance. Piper does the same to Ben, but he doesn’t need encouragement and starts dancing on his own. Landon is with us but standing off to the side a little, not really interested in what we’re doing. Minnie grabs my hand.

  “Oh my gosh! It’s a soul train line! We have to do it!” She’s shouting and looks so damn excited I agree without knowing what the hell she’s talking about. It’s only when I’m pushed in the middle of the aisle of people that I realize I’m supposed to dance. Alone. To music. Dear Lord. I decide to follow suit with the uncles and just shimmy my way to the end before scooping Minnie up into a kiss.

  “Are you having fun, babe?” I ask while nibbling on her neck.

  “Hmmhmm so much fun. I love you, Owen.”

  “I love you too, Minnesota. But I’m not doing that dancing shit again.”

  We both laugh and I know the reality is, I will. I’ll do anything this woman asks me to because seeing her happy is my new mission in life.

  While my friends are dancing and making asses of themselves, I’m struggling to pull my gaze away from the brunette standing off to the side of the tent. I don’t remember seeing her here earlier, but she did walk in and immediately hug Taylor. Of course. Women flock to that guy like moths to a flame. I get it. He’s mysterious and rides a motorcycle. Women think that bad boy image is hot. I blame all the books with half naked dudes on the covers. Where’s the good guy in a flannel? Or the guy dancing with his girl fully clothed?

  I learned all about “hot alpha” males when I borrowed Piper’s eReader one day to look something up. I was floored when her screen filled with nothing but abs. She explained all the different genres of books she reads, and I swear by the time she started saying words like “billionaire alpha Rockstar romance” I had checked out. But, the concept lingered in the back of my head.

  Maybe I should take my mom up on her offers to play matchmaker. I mean, I give the ladies a chance and engage in conversation. Heck, I’ve taken a few out to appease my mother. But, that’s been it. None of them have caught my eye. Honestly, the only woman to catch my eye in the last year was Lexie, the bartender at Country Road. That was until I misinterpreted her friendliness for flirting and asked her out. Turns out, her girlfriend isn’t into her dating other people.

  Whatever, I have too much going on anyway. I just bought a house, moved my workshop from my parents’ barn to my own small garage, and am working a lot. A relationship, or even dating, isn’t necessarily high on my list of priorities even if the single life is boring and some nights, lonely. Speaking of my workshop, I’m glad Jameson and Owen helped me bring my wedding gift in to the house earlier and hang it. I knew it’d be perfect in Piper’s library space and I was right.

  When I started working with wood years ago, I never expected people would want to purchase my art pieces. The occasional desk or shelf, sure. But, the art? That was never something I considered. I struggle accepting money for the pieces and prefer to gift them to people instead.

  “What’s up Landon? Need a beer? I just added a few of those IPA’s you like.” Taylor pulls me from my thoughts with his question, and I nod. I’m still looking in the direction of his date and feel like an ass, but I can’t seem to pull my gaze from her. The brunette looks toward us and catches my eye. She doesn’t smile and neither do I. Seconds tick by and we’re both just staring. I feel the cold beer drop water on my hand as I turn my attention back to Taylor and accept the bottle from him.

  “Why’s your date standing over there, man?” I ask, flipping my head in the direction of the woman across the room who I note has stepped away from where she was standing and is headed for us. Great. She’ll probably tell Taylor I was staring at her and he’ll kick my ass.

  “What?” he asks before the woman steps up next to him.

  “I think I’m going to take off, this was a mistake.” I note a hint of sadness in her voice.

  “I’ll walk out with you, I think I’m about done here. I just wanted to make sure they had enough on ice before I leave. I should check in at The Road before too much longer.” His tone is calm, and I don’t think he’s realized I was perving out on his date.

  I stand there awkwardly waiting for Taylor and his date to finish their conversation. When he turns to me, I’m taking a long drink from my bottle as he begins speaking.

  “Oh, I’m a dick. Hey Landon, this is Addison. Addison, Landon.”

  I pull the bottle from my lips, and with the back of my hand, wipe a drop of beer that’s dribbled onto my chin. I look to Addison and extend my empty hand in greeting. “Hello, Addison.”

  “Addy, please.”

  “Addy. You don’t feel like staying and dancing? I’m sure you can convince this guy,” I say, thumbing toward Taylor who is now pulling on his leather jacket.

  Addy smiles and giggles rolling her eyes. “Not likely. I don’t know anyone and feel awkward. I should get home anyway, I have a long drive tomorrow.”

  I want to ask her more questions. I want to know where she’s going, why she didn’t drive here with Taylor, why she’s into the bad boy thing, and mostly I feel a compulsion to ask her to dance.

  “It was nice meeting you, Landon. Tay, I’ll see you at your house?” she asks, and my hopeful bubble bursts.

  “Yeah. I’ll probably be late, though. Just leave a light on for me, would ya?”

  Addison nods her head in agreement and sends me a quick smile before hurrying out of the tent in the direction where the cars are parked. When they say timing is everything, they’v
e never been more right. And, whoever “they” are can suck it.

  “Ugh, I hate that she’s like that.” I look at Taylor. Okay, glare at Taylor, but I’m stopped short when I see him holding the back of his neck with one hand, his head thrown back in frustration.

  “Like what?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

  “Shy, embarrassed. Fucking broken. Her dickhead ex keeps screwing with her head, and it’s killing me.” This is the most random conversation, but I listen as Taylor takes a deep breath and looks at me. “I told her never to marry him. Hell, my parents told her not to marry him, but she did it anyway. Stubborn as a mule that one.”

  “Your parents? You’ve known her a long time?” I ask thoroughly confused.

  “What? Of course, I have, man. She’s my sister.”

  Taylor shakes his head like I’m not making any sense before saying goodbye and walking out of the tent.

  His sister. Not his date. Well then, maybe “they” aren’t such bastards after all.

  “Are you sure you set the alarm?” Piper shouts from the other side of the bathroom door.

  “Yes, dear,” I shout back.

  We’ve been married about seven hours now, and I promised her I’d stop responding with “Yes, wife.” For the rest of the night. It’s our wedding night, I don’t plan on doing a lot of talking. It’s been a perfect day, and tomorrow we’ll hop on a plane for a long day of travel to Costa Rica. When we were planning our honeymoon, my only requirement was Piper needed to wear a bikini most of the trip. I’d prefer her naked, but I know that’s not reality.

  Yes, I’m a horny bastard but, in my defense, if you were married to Piper Law—Sullivan—damn, that has a nice ring to it—Piper Sullivan you’d want her naked too. Sullivan. Piper is a Sullivan now. And, my wife. Fuck, I’m a lucky son of a bitch.

  I hear the lock on the door click and know Piper is pausing before she opens the door. She whispered to me earlier she was nervous for tonight. I didn’t understand what she meant then. We’ve been together over a year and living together for ten months. Besides all of that, we’ve known each other our entire lives. We aren’t strangers.

  But, lying here in our bed, waiting for my wife to enter the room, I get it. I understand the hesitation, the nervousness, and the underlying tension. Sure, it’s sexual tension but the reality is tonight will be different. We’ve made love, we’ve fucked, we’ve had quickies, and we’ve had long drawn out session of multiple positions and a lot of orgasms. We can thank whiskey for those last two times. Tonight, we come together as husband and wife. Tonight, we solidify our commitment to not only each other but our future.

  The door opens and Piper’s silhouette fills the doorway. With only the dim light from my beside lamp illuminating the room, my breath hitches. As she takes a step into the room, I note she’s wearing a short white silky slip with only lace covering her amazing breasts. The sides are cut high with more lace trim on the slits. Piper isn’t very tall but standing there, her legs look a million miles long.

  “Fuck,” I croak. Piper smiles and takes a few more steps toward my side of the bed. I shift so I’m sitting on the edge. Standing before me, she takes my breath away. I place a hand on her hip, sliding it down her perfect ass, and along the smooth silk of the slip. “Baby, you look beautiful.”

  My hand reaches the hem of the silky fabric, and instinctively, I slip my hand under the material to her thigh, tugging her toward me. She gasps and then giggles before catching herself from falling. With her hands on each of my shoulders I raise my eyebrows suggestively.

  “Mr. Sullivan, are you inviting me to bed?” she taunts with her breasts in my face, begging to be released from their lacy captors.

  “Why, Mrs. Sullivan, I believe I am.”

  With one more tug, I pull Piper toward me and flip her over onto her back. I’m hovering over her, holding myself up on my forearms so I don’t crush her. I stare at her whiskey eyes and remember when I looked into those beautiful eyes just over a year ago. I knew then this woman was something special. Piper slides her hands slowly down my arms until they reach my waist. I didn’t bother with boxer briefs or pajama pants after my shower so my erection is not contained. A huge smile appears on her face as my dick jumps in response to her dragging her fingers up my back.

  “You’re beautiful, Piper.” She tilts her head to the side and assesses me for a minute. I see her eyes dance with mischief and then she opens her legs more so I settle between them.

  “Thank you, Ben. And, thank you for today. It was perfect.” Her hips rotate as she speaks. She knows what she’s doing is driving me insane but she lies here perfectly calm like her heart isn’t beating in tempo with mine. As if I’m not inches from slipping in her wetness and fucking her.

  “It was perfect, and I’m happy you’re happy,” I say, tugging the top of her slip so her hard nipple pops out inviting me to lick it. To suck and tug until Piper gasps and throws her head back. Yep, we’re done talking.

  I pull the hem of the slip up until her stomach is exposed. I’m glad we’re on the same page tonight, and she’s foregone panties. Slowly, I slide down her body until I’m nestled between her legs, her pink lips welcoming with her glistening juices. I’ve been in this spot numerous times in the last year but tonight, tonight is the first time I make my wife come with my mouth. I love having firsts with Piper.

  She’s wound tight, and I think for a minute she was right when she said tonight would be hotter if we didn’t sleep together for a few nights. I feel my dick growing, if that’s even possible. I could probably come myself just from listening to her mewl as I lick and tongue fuck her. I feel her orgasm building as she grabs my hair with her hands, and seconds later she’s riding my face as her bliss takes over. Placing a few kisses to her inner thigh, I rise to sit back on my knees.

  Looking at Piper with her eyes closed, her hair a messy halo above her, I am overcome with quick emotion. This is our life. Moments like this. Pure unconditional love with the one person in this world who loves me exactly how I am. Piper is the woman who encourages me and pushes me to be more. Building a life with her is everything I never knew I wanted.

  Piper opens her eyes and looks in mine. I raise a brow and she smiles before pulling her slip off and grabbing my arms. Pulling me to her, I kiss her with every emotion I feel and every dream we share.

  “I need you,” she moans as I thrust into her. God she’s perfect. Perfect for me. We move together in harmony, our bodies in sync, our hearts beating in unison. The only sounds that fill the room are those of our lovemaking. Our breaths are loud, our groans animalistic, and when we come together I see stars. My orgasm seems to go on for what feels like minutes and when it finally ends, I look at Piper. She’s staring up at me with nothing but love in her eyes.

  I never expected one night at the local bar to change my life. I never expected a single kiss to change it all. I’ll be grateful every day for the rest of our lives for our forever.

  The End.

  Stay tuned for Landon and Addy’s love story.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek of Spring Break!

  Preview of Spring Break!

  There are a lot of things in life that should come with a warning label: potential allergens, poison, explosives – ya know, dangerous things.

  And then, well, there are the things that should be common sense and still have warning labels. In my honest opinion, a cup that says “Hot Beverage” is a little ridiculous. If you order a coffee, and don’t ask for an iced coffee, then it should be assumed said beverage is, in fact, hot. Furthermore, why do I need a label that tells me not to put my plugged-in appliance in a bathtub? I mean, did some dude somewhere in the world actually think to himself, “Self, let’s get in the tub and hold the microwave. Yes, brilliant plan!” I think not.

  What does this have to do with anything? Nothing, really. Just the random shit that runs through my head on any given day. But, since we’re talking about warning labels, something that really should come wi
th a warning and doesn’t? College roommates.

  Sure, I’ll look back on this conversation fondly. In like ten years! But, today? Now? Not so much. Even I can acknowledge that one day Kelsey, my current college roommate, and I will sit around laughing about this day.

  Yes, my pessimistic and sarcastic self knows the time will come when, over a glass of wine, I will laugh about how I adamantly refused to do this one thing but ultimately relented and packed my bag.

  That future self will also stand at the altar next to Kelsey, in what I’m sure will be a horrific hot-pink taffeta gown, and smile like an idiot as I have flashbacks to these college years. Specifically, I’ll remember this as the moment I accepted my fate. The fate that Kelsey Morrison isn’t only my roommate but she is, in fact, my very best friend.

  At that same ceremony, I’ll also be plotting six different ways to kill Kelsey for putting me in a pink anything. When you are born with strawberry-blonde hair and a generous dusting of freckles across the bridge of your nose, pink is your enemy, not friend.

  “Come on, Phoebes, you have to come! It’s going to be awesome. Besides, what else are you going to do? Sit around here and read?”

  “What’s wrong with reading? I like to read. It’s healthy and stimulating.” If she only knew that by stimulating I meant horny-inducing. My Kindle is loaded with erotica romance. Sure, there’s a romantic comedy and the occasional romantic suspense tossed in for variety. But, give me a dirty-talking alpha and the occasional ménage a troi and I’m all in. Book wise. In real life, I’m a little more traditional.

  “Whatevs, come onnnn … Phoeeeebbbeesss.”

 

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