by Blake, Remy
I don’t take my eyes off him, waiting to see his reaction. “Are we gonna fuck when we get there?”
He gives a panty melting smile. “No. I’m not going to touch you till you beg me for it.”
Twisting in my seat and focusing on the road ahead, I scoff. “Never going to happen.”
“If you say so.”
“How about we play a game?” I suggest
“Okay.”
“It’s so hot in here, don’t you think?” I reach for my tank and slip it over my head, my sports bra now on display for all to see.
“Ivy,” Brock warns. “What are you doing?”
“We’re playing a game.”
“I’m not taking any of my clothes off in the car.” He grabs my top and shoves it at me. “And neither are you.” I sink my thumbs into the waistband of my leggings, teasing him. He grabs my hands, pulling them away. “Don’t make me harder than I already am.”
“See?” I glance down and get a good look at his hard-on tenting his shorts. “You like this game. Why are you insisting we stop?”
“My dick likes this game, but my head doesn’t want to get us killed on the highway–especially before we get to our destination.”
“Whatever this is better be good, you know?” I cross my arms over my chest and shift my body away from his. “I fucking hate surprises.”
“Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”
“I do trust you. I just don’t know what this means,” I admit. “I mean, I can try to hide behind the sex and the jokes and the games, but are we okay?”
Slipping his fingers through mine, he brings my hand up to his lips and kisses them.
“Timing and circumstances aside, do you still want to marry me?”
His question catches me off guard. “Yeah, of course.”
“No matter how much we fight? No matter how angry I make you?”
I think of starting and ending every day without his body next to mine, and my heart hurts. “I love you more when we fight and when you make me angry.”
“You do?” he queries, surprised.
“There’s no conditions on my love for you.”
“So, ask me again.”
Momentarily confused, I still, trying to remember what I just asked him. “What? If we’re okay?”
Brock nods. “Are we okay?”
“We’re more than okay.”
My body sags against the seat in relief. “In that case, are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Keep your eyes on the road signs,” he reveals. “They should answer your question soon enough.”
I do as he says, and it takes about another half an hour before I clue in to where it is we’re headed.
“We’re going to St. Augustine?” I ask cautiously.
“Maybe.”
“Brock,” I say with a bit more conviction. “There’s only one reason we would be going there. Is that why we’re going there?”
I reminisce about a time where Brock explained his love for the historical place. He had recounted how his parents had eloped, seeking refuge away from their big and overbearing families and responsibilities, only to marry in secret with the ocean and a celebrant as their sole witnesses.
I let my eyes trace his profile, taking every piece of his masculinity in. After all the back and forth, do I want to do this? Do I want to marry the love of my life––just me and him, on a beautiful beach, promising forever?
“Are we getting married here, Brock?” I press, the anxious beat of my heart morphing into an excitement I never expected to feel. “Shit, Brock. Tell me. Are we really doing this?”
10
Brock
“Ivy, just let me surprise you. All will be revealed soon enough. But for now, I want you to sit back and relax. All you need to do is enjoy yourself. We’re going to explore and take in all the history of St. Augustine together.”
“And get married?” she prods.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t say no, either. And I’m assuming we’re not here for a history lesson.”
“I’m going to let you wonder what we’re here for. I like you on your toes.”
“You like me in any position, Brock Marshall.”
“True dat.” I grin.
Ivy snorts. “Oh God, don’t say that.”
“Why not? I’m trying to be hip.”
“You’re too old to use that. And don’t say hip, either. It only makes you sound like an almost-forty-year-old trying to be young, but still using old lingo in the process.”
“All I can say is back in the day I was a cool motherfucker. I might’ve been too cool for you.”
Ivy giggles. “I’m sure you were the coolest, babe.”
“Are you mocking me?” My eyes flick in her direction before returning to the highway in front of us.
“Why would you think that?” Her tone is deceptively innocent.
“I wonder. Couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that mocking me is one of your favorite pastimes.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She feigns ignorance. “Sucking your cock is my favorite pastime.”
“Ivy, your dirty mouth is going to get you--”
“Spanked?” she cuts me off. “Choked?”
“I was going to say fucked six ways from Sunday.”
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? Because it sounds awesome to me.”
Adjusting my dick in my shorts, I sigh. I’ve never known a woman who can talk dirty like Ivy can. There isn’t anything she won’t say. And even better, there isn’t anything she won’t do. That thought makes me even harder, and I glance at the clock. Thank fuck we’re almost there. I need out of the confined space of this truck before I lose my mind and my control.
* * *
After we’ve checked into the bed-and-breakfast and put our things in the room, Ivy and I jump back in my truck.
“Where are we off to now?” Ivy turns in the seat to face me as I turn the ignition.
“Buckle up, baby, I’ve got some surprises for you.”
“Hmm, okay. I’ll play along for now.”
“I don’t think you have a choice.” I chuckle as I pull out of our bed-and-breakfast’s driveway.
“What do you know about St. Augustine?” Ivy asks.
“The town celebrated its 450th anniversary in 2015 and is the oldest European settlement in the United States.”
“I love the Spanish feeling of the architecture,” she offers.
“I do too.” I pull into a hotel parking lot. “Okay, we’re here.”
“Where exactly are we?” Ivy’s head swivels from side to side, taking in all the details of the area. “You’re not taking me there are you?” She points across the street.
“Nope,” I snigger. “That’s Tolomato Cemetery, and it’s said to be haunted at night. We can come back later.”
“No, thanks. I don’t fuck with the supernatural.”
I slip from the truck and move around to open Ivy’s door. Taking her hand, I lead her toward the front of the hotel property. We come to a huge tree with an iron fence around it. “This tree is called The Old Senator and is at least six hundred years old.”
“That would mean it was alive when Ponce de Leon discovered Florida. How cool is that?”
I smile at the awe in her voice. “You’re right. And it’s awesome to think about. This is a love tree, which basically means it’s two trees, usually a sable palm growing out of an old oak. They’re impossible to separate without killing both, and for some reason they’re only found in St. Augustine.”
“It’s really beautiful. I can’t believe how enormous it is.”
“I brought you here because legend has it that if you kiss someone beneath a love tree, you’ll seal your love for eternity and remain together forever.” I turn to face her. “So, how about it, baby? Want to share a kiss with me under The Old Senator and tie yourself to me forever?” She puckers her shiny, red lips in reply. I lower down until ou
r lips slot together perfectly. Tongues meeting and dancing leisurely as we ensure the fate of our relationship for all of eternity. If only that were possible. I want to be with Ivy in this life and all of the rest to come.
We draw apart, both of us smiling. “Now we don’t need to get married. We’re together forever. It’s official.”
Ivy frowns. “You don’t want to marry me?” Her worried expression tells me she’s not happy about it, and that pleases me.
“Of course I do. But we’re good for now. How about we head downtown and do a little shopping?”
Ivy arches a brow. “You want to shop? Are you feeling okay?”
“I know, I hate shopping. But I love you. And while we’re here, I want you to enjoy yourself. There are a lot of stores I know you’ll like. We can get some souvenirs. You can even send some to Jude or your mom.”
Ivy rises on her tiptoes, pressing her pillowy lips to my jaw. “You’re such a sweet, old guy.”
“Don’t get used to this. I’m making an exception on the shopping thing because we’re away.”
“I’ll take what I can get. Let’s go.” Ivy tugs on my hand, eager to be off.
* * *
We stroll along the narrow streets of the historic district on our way to dinner. Ivy sighs, pointing to a wrought iron balcony on one of the old buildings. She lays her head on my arm. “I can picture a girl standing up there hundreds of years ago, pining for some guy.”
“Love and attraction are timeless.”
“Do you ever wonder who you’d be with if we’d never met?” she asks.
I squeeze her hand. “No, I don’t. Because we did meet, and here we are, hopelessly in love.”
“You know, for such a possessive caveman, you say the sweetest things.”
“Only to you, baby. No one else gets to see this side of me.”
“They better not. I can be possessive too.” She clamps her hand on my cock and I grab her wrist.
“Ivy, behave,” I scold.
“Brock, I was merely making a point. Besides, we don’t know any of these people.”
“I don’t want to get arrested for public indecency. That would put a damper on our weekend away, for sure.”
“It would definitely be a weekend we’d never forget.” She giggles.
I shake my head. “Oh, Ivy. I’m going to make sure you can never forget our time here.”
We come upon the restaurant where I’ve made a reservation. I usher Ivy inside in front of me and give my name to the hostess. She escorts us through the dimly lit space, and Ivy never lets go of my hand. I take in the intimate atmosphere the decor and angled ceilings create. I’m already pleased with this place, and we just got here. I have a feeling Ivy’s going to love it. We round a corner and Ivy gasps, her feet freezing in place.
She turns to me, a questioning look in her eyes. “Brock?”
I smile. “I wanted to surprise you.”
She throws her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. “I fucking love you so much.”
My arms tighten around her back. “I know you do. Now go say hi to your mom and Jude.”
Running the remaining steps to her mother, she throws her arms around her, both of them immediately sobbing with happiness.
I stroll over to clasp Jude’s hand and clap him on the shoulder. “How’s it going, man?”
“Great, thanks. I take it you guys are doing better?”
“I think we are. I guess we’ll see how dinner goes before I can say for sure.”
Ivy and her mom part, and it’s Jude’s turn to get cried on. He folds Ivy into his arms, patting her on the back soothingly.
“Why are you crying? It’s only been a couple of months since we saw each other.” He steps back, studying her face.
“These are happy tears.”
He wipes the wetness from her cheeks, and I barely hold back a biting comment. Not the time or place, Brock. Keep your cool. I think I’ll be giving myself pep talks for the rest of the weekend.
“Let’s sit down and order dinner. I’m starving,” Jude directs.
I catch hold of Ivy’s arm and steer her to a seat beside me and Jude assists Ivy’s mother.
“I can’t believe you guys are here,” Ivy gushes.
“I still have some tricks up my sleeve.” I wink.
“This is the best surprise ever.” Ivy squeezes my leg.
“Oh, baby, I have much more in store for you.”
11
Ivy
“You know, when you and Brock first got together I had my doubts,” my mom says nonchalantly.
We’re together doing what is supposed to be some mother–daughter bonding, but is really just us getting used to our newfound closeness.
Living with Brock, and away from home, means Mom and I don’t see each other a lot. When I was younger, our relationship was very strained, and while it’s not infinitely better, it’s on it’s way to being better than I could’ve imagined for us.
“I mean, a man who has enough money to organize for your mother to come and meet you on a vacation is worth keeping, right?” she continues.
“So, I should marry him because he has money?” I challenge, not even surprised the conversation is headed this way. I don’t even bother reminding her that the money my father left me makes well-off enough to hold my own.
“It’s a good enough reason as any don’t you think?”
“I guess love doesn’t factor into it for you?” I rebut.
“It’s a wonderful notion in theory, but you know it doesn’t always.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Because of all the love you’ve experienced?”
She holds open the door of a cute cafe and tilts her head to the side, instructing me to go in. Walking past tables full of people, I find a quiet booth in the back.
When we both take our seats, she picks up the conversation right where we left off. “I’ll have you know, I enjoy being alone.”
“You enjoy being alone these days.”
“I’m just saying.” She reaches for a small wooden clipboard that holds the drink menu. “I like him.”
“Well, I’m glad you like him,” I say. “It’s only been three years.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, anyway,” she says, surprising me. “You love him. And you’re happier than I ever thought any man could make you.”
“I am happy. I never thought I’d find someone like him.” When people acknowledge the love Brock and I share, it means the world to me. But when it comes from my mother, it’s that extra push I didn’t know I needed, reassuring me that he is it for me. “He’s perfect for me.”
She catches the attention of a server and raises her hand, then turns her gaze back to me. “I do have a question to ask, though.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Yeah?”
She leans closer and lowers her voice into almost a whisper. “Do you two…”
“Do we?”
“I’ve started reading these books on my Kindle. A lady from work recommended them, and since I’m big on reading these days, I looked into it.”
“Mom, get to the question,” I interrupt impatiently.
“Well, there’s one book, and the woman and the man had an age gap like yours.”
I stare at her pointedly as her cheeks redden, my instincts knowing exactly where this is going. “Yes?”
“But it’s more of a fetish, and she called him––”
I place my hands over my ears. “La. La. La,” I chant loudly. “I don’t want to hear the rest of what you’re about to say.”
Ignoring me, she blurts it out anyway. “Do you call him Daddy?”
“Fuck, Mom. Shut up.” I drop my head onto the table in embarrassment. Why am I even surprised? I don’t have a filter either.
“It was just a question.”
I raise my head and sit back up with my shoulders straight. “No, Mom, I don’t call him Daddy.” I look around to see if anybody else is listening before continuing. “But hey, if you want to
hear about my sex life, I’d be happy to tell you that the age difference means he really knows how to use his dick.”
“Oh, Ivy,” she admonishes. “I don’t want to hear about his private parts.”
“You started it,” I clarify.
Before we can get into an argument about who said what, the waiter finally arrives with a bottle of table water and two cups.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greets. “What can I get you?”
“Just two margaritas, please,” my mom answers for both of us. “We can’t stay too long, we’re on a tight schedule.”
“We are?” I question
“I’ll just get you your drinks,” the young man says quickly, not wanting to get caught up between conversations.
“What else do we have to do?” I ask, trying to get my mom to elaborate on her previous statement. “I thought we were just spending time together.”
She opens up her bag and pulls out her cell phone. “Brock has given me strict instructions.”
“What are the instructions?”
She ignores me, instead focusing on the screen of her phone. “Answer your phone.”
Confused, I pick my cell up off the table and stare at it. “It’s not even ringing.”
As if its sole purpose is to prove me wrong, the device vibrates in my hand, Brock’s name on the screen.
“This is weird,” I say instead of a greeting. “What are you planning?”
“How’s time with your mom?” he asks.
“Besides the fact that she asked me if I called you Daddy in the bedroom, it’s all good.”
“Ivy,” my mother scolds loudly. “Why would you tell him that?”
“You two won’t tell me what you have planned,” I supply. “Payback is a bitch.”
“How do you expect me to look your mother in the eye now?” Brock asks sternly.
“Not my problem.”
With the phone still on my ear, the waiter returns, placing our cocktails carefully in the middle of the table. I offer him a thankful smile while listening to what Brock has to say.