There's a couple on a low-slung couch ten feet from where we stand, the man sitting with his legs stretched out and a woman reclined over him, sucking his dick. She turns her head, taking in the various glassed-in rooms. Every one of them is filled with endless fucking. She walks along the exterior of the glass, watching everything from vanilla missionary sex to Angel pegging a man up the ass to one of my Fantasy Makers using an industrial-sized dildo on a woman.
She turns and looks out over the patrons who fill the interior, some chatting while having a cocktail, others kissing and stroking, and one man fingering his date while she spreads her legs lewdly from her perch on a barstool for everyone to see.
Maggie turns to me, her cheeks red but her green eyes brimming with curiosity. "Do you have sex here?"
"What?" I practically choke out, but before she can repeat the question, I tell her, "I have in the past. Not frequently, but I have. I prefer to be more private. And I mostly only do the BDSM stuff here, but then I don't get off on that."
"Would you ever want to experience that with me... here where people can watch us?"
"Sex or the BDSM?" I ask hesitantly.
"Either," she says with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
"I honestly don't know, babe," I tell her truthfully. "We'd have to tread those waters carefully. I definitely wouldn't practice BDSM with you. Not the hardcore stuff anyway. Might take a soft flogger to you, or my hand on your ass, but that's about it."
Fuck if my dick doesn't turn to stone when Maggie shudders over my proclamation.
She steps into me, putting a hand on my chest. "But what if I want to experience it from the prospective of being just a girl with a really gorgeous guy who can engage in some guilt-free passionate sex in a very debauched way? What if I want to feel what it's like to do it and walk out of here without an ounce of shame?"
"Or you could be overwhelmed with shame," I point out.
"Maybe," she says, but then almost destroys me when she says, "but because I love you so much, I think I could give that to you if you wanted it."
My knees almost buckle on me and my heart nearly bursts open at her words, but before I can even think too hard on what that means, I feel the need to clarify to her. "Mags, I honestly don't know if I want this for us. Maybe, but again... we'd have to really talk about it."
"That sounds like a plan," she says with a brilliant smile as she goes up on her tiptoes. I bend down to her, and she gives me a soft, sweet kiss.
"You love me?" I ask when she has her heels back on the ground.
"Yup," she says with a smile, but she doesn't elaborate, merely points to the exit door. "Now, we should head to your house. We have some making up to do."
Gripping her hand tight, I turn and lead her back to the hallway, out the exit door, and back through The Wicked Horse. I pull her through the crowd of dancers. The loud music doesn't even penetrate because I'm so focused on getting Maggie in my bed that I can't see straight.
*
I'm on her as soon as I have her in my bedroom. Spinning her around, I grab her by the ponytail and force her upward so her mouth meets mine in a fiery crash of lust and love. She groans at the first contact of my tongue against hers, and then our hands are flying at each other, trying to stroke and pinch and pull at clothing.
When we're both naked, I kiss her again, my hand once again finding that ponytail. I slip my free hand down her stomach, to her pussy, and push my middle finger into her. It slides in easily, and she grips me tight as she moans from the sensation. I pull my mouth from hers, look down at her glazed eyes, which stare at me a moment, and then I tell her, "You're never going to regret giving me a second chance, Mags."
She must like that sentiment a lot because her hips buck against my hand.
With my finger still lodged in deep, and my hand gripping her ponytail, I walk Maggie backward to my bed. Every step she takes rocks my finger inside of her, and she whimpers in frustration.
I force her backward until the mattress is at the back of her knees and push her down to the bed, my finger never missing a stroke inside of her. She looks at me, her green eyes dark shades of forest green now, and mewls like a kitten when I pull out to circle her clit.
Fuck, that's sexy, but I want her to get off quickly because she's strung tight as a wire right now. I fall onto her body, scooting back until I'm kneeling on the floor, and I pull her body down to me. Mouth to pussy, I eat her out, spreading her wide with my fingertips and attacking her clit hard. Maggie's fingers graze my temple, and I peek up at her to see her looking down at me.
I freeze, sense her hesitancy, and then reach up in a move so fast that she gasps. I grab her wrist, force her hand to my head, and push her fingers into my short hair. I lift my mouth from her pussy and whisper, "It's short, Maggie, but there's enough to pull."
Her eyes widen at the implication.
"Pull it hard," I growl at her before I latch my mouth back onto her.
Maggie cries out when I hit her clit again, and both hands go into my hair. She strokes the pads of her fingertips over my scalp for a bit, but when I purse my lips around that bundle of nerves and suck on her, she grips my hair in between her fingers as best she can and pulls when she comes.
Fucking beautiful.
I gentle her down with a few flicks of my tongue over her flesh before I crawl my way up the mattress, pulling Maggie up with me with an arm around her waist. I know exactly how this is going to play out, and I flop onto my back, pulling her on top of me until she's straddling my lower abdomen, just out of reach of my aching dick.
My hands go to her thighs, and I look up at her. "Maggie."
Her hands come to rest on my chest. "Yes?"
"I want you to ride my cock," I say thickly, and not just because my throat is clogged with lust. It's also filled to capacity with emotion. She tilts her head to the side with curiosity. "I've never let a woman ride me before... before she..."
Maggie's eyes go warm with understanding and she leans over me, pressing her lips to mine. When she pulls back, she looks deeply into my eyes and whispers, "Are you sure?"
"As sure as I am that I love you," I tell her with naked honesty, and I realize... I don't feel one single ounce of fear, disgust, shame, or indecision. In fact, I'm quite decisive in the fact that I want Maggie bouncing on my cock.
Now.
My hands push at her thighs, urging her back a little so she'll get to work. The tip of my dick bumps against her ass, and fuck... can't wait until I have that too.
But first things first.
Maggie rises up, her knees digging down into the mattress, and she takes me in hand, maneuvering until the fat head of my cock presses against her wet folds.
"Christ," I hiss through my teeth, because that feels fucking amazing. I hope I don't fucking shoot my load too quick.
Maggie's eyes flutter closed and she rotates her hips a bit, the motion sucking my dick up into her as she starts to sink down on me. My eyes drop down as I watch my cock disappearing into heaven. My balls are already starting to tingle before she gets fully seated. Her eyebrows furrow inward with concentration as she pulls up a little, and then pushes down again. Another circle of her hips, and I get sucked in deeper.
Maggie moans a little as she rises, and then finally pushes all the way down until I have her fully impaled and her pussy lips are molded around the base of my dick.
My gaze slides up and I find Maggie's eyes now open, staring down at me with pure love mixed with electric desire.
"Feel good?" she asks.
"You have no idea," I tell her, my voice husky and thick.
Her hands come to my stomach, and I feel the pad of one fingertip tracing my skin. I look down and see her touching the wing of one of the blackbirds as her eyes travel up as the others take flight, straight toward the center of my chest, where one explodes in a burst of feathers before it can touch my heart.
She looks back to me and before she can ask, I tell her, "It's just a general symbolis
m. Many things have come my way, but nothing has ever penetrated my heart before."
She nods.
"Not before you, Mags."
She smiles and nods again. "I love you."
Emotion courses through me. I have to focus on the feeling of my cock in her cunt so I don't cry, and I give her a nudge so she'll move. Maggie complies, rises up, and sinks back down on me again.
"I love you." I groan from the sensation. "So much."
"Then we're agreed," she pants as she starts to move faster on me. "You're keeping The Silo."
I can barely comprehend what she's saying because all the available blood in my body is congregating in my cock, which I'm pretty sure has never been this hard before. "Wait! What?" I groan after she slams down onto me.
Then I go dizzier as she starts riding me up and down harder. I can't concentrate, my eyes now pinned on her tits bouncing and her nipples puckered. My fingers pinch at them, and I go dizzier yet when she adds in some type of gyration on her down strokes.
My balls shrink... harden... and I bite down on my tongue to try to hold my shit together.
But then Maggie goes absolutely still on a hard slam down onto me, her back arching as she cries out, "Oh... Bridger..."
As her pussy spasms all around me, a fiery orgasm bursts and I punch my hips upward as I start to come.
"Fuck," I curse as I practically hold Maggie off the bed as I arch into the pleasure.
My hips fall back to the mattress as my entire body trembles with release. Maggie falls forward, collapses against my chest, and her lips go to my neck where she mutters, "Just... damn."
I chuckle and wrap my arms around her back, squeezing her tight. "So, I'm keeping The Silo, huh?"
She lifts her head, smiles down at me, and nods. "Baby... I just heard and felt how much you love me. So yeah... we're totally keeping The Silo."
"We--as in you and me?" I ask, just to make sure.
"As in a team," she confirms. "Although I'm expecting we'll make that official at some point."
"Are you proposing to me, Mags?" I ask her with a grin.
"I do believe I am," she says with an answering smile of her own.
"Then I accept," I tell her as my hand goes behind her head to pull her mouth down to mine.
Epilogue
Maggie
Five months later...
Oh, wow.
Bridger in a tuxedo.
Just... wow.
In my past life--the one before I fell in love--I would have never had the confidence to envision this moment. A small country church swathed in gardenias and white tulle, only two rows filled with people because my circle of friends is small but fierce, and a gorgeous man who looks at me like I hung the moon and the stars for him.
He stands there waiting for me with Woolf at his side. Both men are impossibly handsome, although Bridger is far sexier to me. His hair has grown out a bit more. It's shaggy and in need of a trim, but it's oh so much fun to pull.
Yes, Bridger has overcome nearly every hang-up he's wilted under in the past. I can pull his hair to my heart's content and ride his cock whenever I want. Doesn't mean that the nightmares are gone forever, but they don't happen often and when they do, I'm there to talk him down.
The biggest change for my soon-to-be husband though is the fact that he's almost like a different man since he declared his love for me. So easygoing and laid back. He smiles and laughs often, my favorite being when he's smiling and laughing with Belle.
About a week ago, he came home from work overly excited as he whipped off his shirt. I stared at the huge bandage across the center of his chest, gasping in horror that he'd been hurt. "What happened?"
He rolled his eyes, peeled the bandage off, and I got a look at his new tattoo.
The blackbirds are still there, still undisturbed in their flight toward his heart. Even the one that almost makes it and bursts apart before it can make contact. But to the left of that spray of black feathers are two new tattoos that converge right over where his heart is in his chest. Two white doves, one larger than the other, rising up with wings spread to hold a hover over his heart. The larger one holds a golden banner in its claws that says "Mags" and the smaller one mimics it with the word "Belle".
"Oh, Bridger," I'd said in wonder, not wanting to touch the irritated skin but wanting some contact. I put my hands on either side of the fresh tat and just stared at it in wonder.
"Didn't change those blackbirds, Mags," he whispered. "Before, they represented ways in which my heart would repel, but now... I choose to think of them as all the bad things that couldn't destroy my heart. And of course... the doves are kind of self-explanatory."
"I love it," I choked out, my voice garbled from emotion as the tears started to flow down my face.
Yes... that tattoo is very special and so representative of just how much Bridger has transformed.
He waits for me at the base of the altar, his dark golden eyes eating me up while he tenderly holds Belle on his hip. The grand plan today was for her to walk me down the aisle, but just as the music started, she had a minor freak out and tore out of my grip. Belle ran down the aisle, dropping her little bouquet of gardenias and wild sage at the midpoint, and hightailed it straight to Bridger while everyone in the pews laughed.
I merely watched with tears stinging my eyes as he squatted down to receive her and she threw herself into his arms. When he lifted her and she laid her head on his shoulder, I almost lost it.
Almost, but not quite.
I blinked furiously and pushed those tears aside. I didn't want anything to mar my vision of Bridger and Belle, my two loves, waiting for me.
Life is very, very good.
At Bridger's insistence, I've "retired" from waitressing at The Wicked Horse. He doesn't want me there on my feet all night. He's offered me the option of staying home with Belle, finding a job more suitable for his woman, or going to school--a prospect I'd never considered before.
I chose school.
Cosmetology school to be precise. Our girls' poker night has turned into girls' mani-pedi night as I practice my newfound skills on my girls. More often than not, Bridger lurks around on girls' night and that's because he lurks around most nights. He's given up keeping a careful watch over The Silo, preferring to let Cain take over, and he has actually been talking about bringing him on as a partner.
But even though Bridger doesn't go there often, it doesn't mean he doesn't go there.
He does.
With me.
We don't go a lot, but we do pop in every once in a while, and let me tell you... the things that man does to me when his imagination is fueled by such a deviant atmosphere is almost too overwhelming to handle. It's why we don't go often, as I just don't know that my heart could take that type of excitement on a frequent basis.
For the most part, Bridger and I have become homebodies, preferring to spend our time quietly hiking on the ranch with Belle, cooking together, or reading the paper over a lazy breakfast. Every night is when we really come together, just the two of us, and in every touch given and every word spoken, we reaffirm our love for each other.
Just like I'm getting ready to do in front of our family and friends.
I take a step toward Bridger and Belle, measuring my stride to the tune of the "Wedding March". Bridger and Belle look at me as I walk down the aisle. I watch as he inclines his head to my daughter, whispering something that's meant only for her to hear. She grins from ear to ear. He turns his focus back on me and his eyes are blistering with excitement, love, and pure happiness.
I smile back at him and hold his gaze the entire time I traverse the distance between us.
When I reach him, he switches Belle to his opposite hip, never once thinking about putting her down, and steps in close to me, his arm snaking around my back. He gives my ass a quick squeeze, causing everyone behind us to snicker, and then pulls me tight to his side.
Adrian stands in front of us and gives Bridger a chastising look be
fore he looks past us and says, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together..."
Bridger turns his head and looks down at me, the same exact moment I turn and look up at him.
He grins and whispers. "Love you, Mags."
"Love you too."
*
Bridger
I watch as Maggie tears up the dance floor with her girls--Callie, Sloane, Cat, and Auralie--and Christ, my wife has some moves. I shouldn't be surprised because the things she can do with those hips are beyond astounding.
My wife.
Doesn't seem strange at all to me.
In fact, it feels rather perfect.
Someone moves into my line of sight. I look up to see Aunt Gayle standing there, holding a sleeping Belle. I stand up, lean my head to the side to see her little face, and grin at how peaceful she looks as she slumbers away on Gayle's shoulder.
"Randall and I are going to take Belle back to your house," Gayle says in a whisper, despite the fact that some loud dance pop bullshit is playing right now. "We'll see you there later tonight."
"Okay," I say, putting my hand on Belle's head before I lean in and kiss her cheek. Then I give Gayle a wink. "But don't wait up for us."
Gayle laughs before she turns to the dance floor and heads over to break up the dance party so Maggie can say goodnight to her daughter.
Well, strike that... our daughter.
I've got an attorney working to get Zeke's parental rights terminated so I can adopt her, but regardless if that happens, she's my daughter too. Gayle and Randall volunteered to stay with Belle so Maggie and I can take a real honeymoon. We're heading to Hawaii tomorrow for ten days of sun, surf, and a whole lot of dirty fucking.
I sit back down in my chair and watch as Maggie stops dancing to give Belle a kiss before doing the same to her aunt. Her parents didn't come to the wedding, and that's because they weren't invited. Maggie made overtures to them, but they're being a little unforgiving that she would dare to have done something so stupid as to put them in danger.
Maybe they'll come around, maybe not. Doesn't matter because she has a new family now.
I turn to see Adrian taking a seat beside me. We're silent for a while, watching the girls dancing again, but now they're joined by their men. Cain, Logan, Woolf, and Rand all out there boogying without any dignity or skills. Maggie turns to look at me and waves cheerily, but she doesn't beckon me out there. I told her I'd give her whatever her heart desired for a wedding--turns out she wanted a traditional church service with Adrian marrying us and a small party after--but I told her the one thing I absolutely would not do was dance except for slow songs with her.
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