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Insta Ever After: A Flirt Club Short Story Collection

Page 14

by Kim Loraine


  “Please, please, please,” she whimpers, clutching my head and tugging hard on my hair.

  I move then, positioning myself at her entrance. “Condom?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I want all of you. If we get pregnant, we’ll start our family, if not, we keep trying.”

  Fuck. The thought of the two of us making a baby tonight makes me ache. I sink inside her slowly, watching her expression change from shock to utter pleasure. The sounds of her soft little cries fill the room with every inch I press forward, and then the two of us let out a collective groan when I’m seated fully inside her. I roll my hips, grunting and shaking with the effort not to orgasm, but she’s already clamping down on me, her tits bouncing every time I bottom out inside her heat.

  “I’m going to come,” she says, her nipples hard little points as the climax hits her.

  “Fuck, me too.” I let go and flood her with my seed while she cries my name and claws at the sheets.

  I’m still shaking as I come down from my high, but her eyes are on me, open and trusting. “I love you, Max,” she murmurs.

  I press our foreheads together and say, “I love you, Scarlett. Always.”

  “What the fuck?” a booming voice calls out from behind me.

  Scarlett’s eyes go wide and her face pales. “Logan!”

  “Whoever the fuck you are, you’d better get your dick out of my sister so I can kill you,” Logan says.

  I turn my head to face my best friend and all I see in his eyes is betrayal.

  31

  Nice right hook

  Scarlett

  “Get the hell out of my room, Logan,” I screech as Max pulls a blanket over us and rolls off me.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Max? How long have you been fucking my baby sister?” Logan is shaking with rage, his face red, eyes wild.

  “Listen, man, you don’t under—” Max starts, but Logan interrupts him.

  “Don’t tell me I don’t understand. You’ve been sticking your dick in my little sister. I understand exactly what this is. She’s fucking vulnerable. You saw your opportunity and you swooped in to get what you’ve always wanted.”

  The venom in my brother’s tone says he has no idea that what Max always wanted was me—all of me--forever. “You have no clue what you’re talking about,” I say. “Max loves me.”

  Logan laughs. “Oh, did he tell you that? Max loves fucking pathetic girls who’ll fawn all over him, treat him like a god.”

  Before I know what’s happened, Logan is on the ground and Max stands over him. He winces and shakes out his already reddening hand.

  Logan groans and sits up. “You hit me. You fucking hit me.”

  Max’s chest heaves as he takes in heavy breaths. “And I’ll do it again if you ever talk badly about the woman I love. She’s not sad. She’s everything. And I’m going to marry her as soon as the courthouse opens.”

  My brother’s eyes widen. “What?”

  “He asked me tonight,” I pipe up, pulling on my robe and tying it tightly.

  “Are you serious?”

  Max nods. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want her. I’m sorry you had to find out like this, man. It all happened so fast, but once we realized we’d both been in love for years, I knew we couldn’t waste another damn day.”

  Logan nods, sighs, and runs a hand over his face, his right eye bruised and black. “Damn, this hurts. I need a minute to work through all this. I’ll be in the kitchen, icing this fucking shiner.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “There’s a bag of frozen peas in the freezer.”

  My brother waves in acknowledgment as he walks away, but then calls over his shoulder, “Put your fucking cock away, Max. I’ve seen enough of you to last a lifetime.”

  Max laughs, looking down at his completely nude form before grabbing his boxers and pants. He closes my bedroom door and turns toward me. “I guess we can check, tell Logan, off the list.”

  I erupt into uncontrollable laughter. I can’t help myself. “Oh my god. I…I can’t…I can’t believe that just happened.”

  Max’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he reaches for me. His hand finds mine and he pulls me close, dropping a kiss on my lips. “I see you still have your wedding dress,” he murmurs.

  Shoulders stiffening, I follow his gaze and see my beautiful gown in my open closet. “I couldn’t bear to get rid of it.”

  “Did you design the dress yourself?”

  I nod. Angry that something so special has been tainted by Bryce. “It was months of work.”

  He presses a kiss to my temple. “We can’t get married tomorrow.”

  My blood runs cold. Not again. I can’t lose him already. “What?”

  “You deserve to wear that dress, to be the bride you dreamed of being.”

  “I’ll wear it to the courthouse.”

  He shakes his head and takes my face between his palms. “No. You’ll wear it as you walk down the aisle to the theme song from The Princess Bride played on classical guitar, with honeysuckle in your hair, and wildflowers scattered in your path. Except this time, it’ll be the right man waiting for you. This time, it’ll be me.”

  Tears fill my eyes as he describes the dream wedding I’d played out in my head so many times. Somewhere along the line, I lost sight of what I wanted, and when I was engaged to Bryce it turned into exactly what his mother deemed appropriate. “Are you sure?”

  His lips find mine and I melt into his embrace. “It should have been me all along. We’ll get married, that I can promise you. But you deserve to have exactly what you dreamed of.”

  I kiss him again but this time there’s fire behind my lips on his and his answering moan sends a shockwave of lust straight between my legs. “God, Max, I want you again already.”

  “Good, because I’ll never stop craving you.” His erection is insistent and pressing against my belly. “Can you keep quiet?”

  I bite my lip. “Maybe.”

  He turns me around and bends me over the bed before freeing himself and sinking inside my waiting body. I moan, causing him to shudder as he begins thrusting slow and deep. His hand finds its way over my mouth as he picks up the pace, dragging my orgasm from me in a few sure strokes. His thrusts become erratic and he gasps as his own release takes over. Then the sound of music in the living room makes us both still as we bask in the glow of our love.

  “Too late to drown us out,” I murmur.

  His teeth graze my shoulder, bringing a shiver of longing over me. “I’ll deal with Logan. I expect you to be in this bed, waiting for me once I’ve smoothed this over.”

  Nodding, I stand and kiss him before making my way to the bathroom. “I can guarantee now that he knows we’re engaged, he’s already over his anger.”

  He drags a hand through his hair and sighs. “Yeah, but I owe him more than what I gave him.”

  I smile as he leaves the room and I step into the bathroom. This man is so clearly who I was meant to be with. Why hadn’t I had the courage to seek him out in the first place?

  My phone buzzes from my nightstand and I turn on the shower before going back to my room to see who it is.

  Stacy:

  Happy New Year, ladies. We’re going to make this year count. Decide what you want and get it.

  I grin and set the phone down, hand resting over my heart. That’s exactly what I did.

  Never let go

  Max

  Scarlett is angelic as she walks down the aisle toward me. A guitarist plays, candles light the small church, and the scent of honeysuckle fills the air as she draws closer. We decided to keep the wedding intimate, just us, my good friend Lincoln and his wife, as well as my parents and Logan. She reaches me and everything stops. My gaze never leaves hers.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  “I love you. Are you all right?”

  She glances down and then back to me, nodding and smiling as she covers her lower belly with her wildflower b
ouquet. We found out she was pregnant a few weeks ago and the morning sickness has been a struggle.

  The pastor clears her throat and begins the ceremony, but I barely register the words coming out of her mouth. All I can focus on is the woman I’m about to pledge my undying love to. We say our vows, exchange our rings, and kiss. The tidal wave of emotion that cascades over me nearly brings me to my knees when our lips touch. She’s mine. Scarlett is mine forever and I’m never letting her go.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you for the first time, Mr. And Mrs. Maxwell North.”

  The small crowd cheers, but I’m still kissing my wife. I spent years wanting her, I’m not going to waste any more time. I’ll never get enough of this woman, but now, I don’t have to worry. Scarlett has been my dream, and now she’s my reality.

  Dear, Mr. Right Now

  The Matchmaker Series

  Prologue

  Ben

  “So you’re telling me I have two weeks to find a wife or I’ll lose two-billion dollars?” I have to repeat the words I heard because they are so ridiculous. The lawyer in charge of my grandmother’s estate stares at me in all seriousness. Franklin Washburn isn’t smug or greedy. He’s actually a stand-up guy. But I kind of wish he’d figure out a way to weasel me out of this clause.

  Franklin nods, the overhead lighting making his balding head shine with the movement. “Mrs. Elliott was very thorough when she had her will draw up last year. If you don’t marry by February 14th of this year, your inheritance will be reinvested in Elliott Enterprises and you will be left with nothing.”

  I drag a hand through my hair. This shouldn’t be a surprise. Grandmother is trying to control me even from beyond the grave. Fuck, I don’t even have a girlfriend to propose to. “How am I supposed to find a wife? I’ve been halfway across the world for the better part of a damn year.” Nine months traveling through the most remote parts of the southern hemisphere working on clean water projects didn’t leave time for romantic attachments. “I’ve only been back four days.”

  His expression changes to one of sympathy. “Might I make a suggestion?”

  I cock a brow. That’s exactly what I wanted when I asked him how I was going to do this. “Please.”

  “A matchmaker.” He scribbles something down on a piece of paper and slides it across his desk toward me. “It might seem old-fashioned, but I’ve sent others in your predicament to this particular agency and she’s had a ninety-nine percent success rate.”

  “Doesn’t she have a website or something?” I stare down at the physical address and phone number listed on the paper.

  “Grace is…discreet. Call her and she’ll get you taken care of. She’ll have you pen a letter with your needs, then she’ll have a match for you within a few days. Trust me.”

  Trust a lawyer? I frown down at the information in my hands and don’t say anything.

  “Just think of all the good you can do with the money you stand to inherit. Do you really want to let it all go back into her company?”

  My chest tightens. No. He’s right. I could fund multiple clean water projects, continue traveling and helping people. Keep my parents’ legacy alive.

  I stand and shake Franklin’s hand. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

  He nods. “If you choose to marry, Mr. Elliott, make sure it’s legal. Marriage license, witnesses, etc. No annulment, no divorce for five years. There’s no way around this marriage clause. As I’ve said, your grandmother was very thorough.”

  I leave without another word. Honestly, I don’t think I can speak at the moment. I stare at the address and phone number again as I wait for the elevator. A heavy sigh leaves me when the doors open and as I step inside, I pull out my phone.

  It looks like I’m getting married.

  32

  Rosie

  My phone rings from the pocket of my blazer and I wince. I forgot to put it on silent. My boss is going to ream my ass for the distraction. Scrambling for the damn device, I silence the call before turning the thing off completely.

  “Rosie! Is that a personal call?” Ms. Tate shouts from her office.

  Standing, I straighten my skirt before walking to her door. I knock and wait for three seconds before opening the door and peering inside the pristine space. “I’m sorry, Ms. Tate. I thought my phone was in do not disturb mode.”

  “Your constant distractions are really becoming a problem.”

  Constant? This is the second time in two years I’ve forgotten. “Yes, Ms. Tate. It won’t happen again.”

  She levels her icy gaze on me, then slowly looks me up and down. “You look like a streetwalker in that skirt. You clearly have no respect for this office.”

  Anger builds in my belly at the insult. I glance down at my black knee-length pencil skirt, nude pantyhose, and black pumps. I’ve never seen a hooker dress like this. “Excuse me?” The words fall from my lips before I can stop myself. I just questioned her. You never question Ms. Tate.

  The two other paralegals in the office gasp audibly and I know the hammer is about to drop.

  “Get out of my office. I’ve had enough of your insubordination.” She peers over the rim of her reading glasses and sneers. “You’re fired.”

  Tears burn the corners of my eyes, but not because I love this job. In fact, I hate it. But I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I need to work and the job market has been terrible over the last year. I shut the door behind me as I move back toward my desk in silence.

  “Rosie?” my co-worker Casey asks. “Are you okay?”

  I break out of my trance and take a shuddering breath. “No.”

  She places her hand on my shoulder. “You’re going to find something else. You’re great at this job.”

  “How? I won’t even have a reference. That’s two years of work, wasted on her.”

  “You’ll figure something out. I promise.”

  I pack my few belongings and fight a sigh of frustration when Toby, the building’s security guard shows up with his gaze on me. “Really, Toby?”

  He shrugs. “Ms. Tate requested you be escorted from the building.”

  I roll my eyes. I’ve put up with her shit for two years and this is how she sends me out? “Let’s go.” Fuck this place.

  By the time I reach the lobby, my tears have turned to anger. How did I let myself become this person…again?

  When I was in college, my boyfriend and I had made plans. We’d move in together, work our way through law school and both practice environmental law. We wanted to help the world become a better place. But, then he left. He sent me packing via text message and took a job in LA as an entertainment lawyer. I’d taken time off of school because one of us had to work. I’d supported the asshole and put aside my own dreams. Since then, I haven’t dated. I’ve worked to get out from under the crushing debt of my student loans and last month I made my final payment.

  I want more from my life than to be someone’s dumping ground. I deserve more. I want to help people, make a difference. I thought getting into the legal field would offer me that opportunity. Instead, I worked for a corporate lawyer who did everything she could to line her own pockets. I’m done.

  I toss my box in the trunk of my Prius and head for home. I need a win today. Something positive. An hour later, I’m home. My small studio apartment familiar and comforting. My mail is on the floor in a pile where the building’s postman slipped it through the mail slat in my door. I pick up the small pile of bills and sigh. I’ve got money saved, but not enough. Then a deep red envelope catches my eye and I frown at the name on the front…addressed to me.

  What the Heart Wants Matchmaking

  I know the name. A month ago I got an invitation to the wedding of my cousin Stacy. I’d called her in complete surprise because to my knowledge she had given up dating just like me. And then she told me her secret. A matchmaker. She swore it was the real deal. True love. Her perfect match. That’s what I wanted for my life—someone exactly right for me. T
he idea of finding a man who is made for me without all the pitfalls of dating was intensely appealing.

  So, after drinking an entire bottle of wine, I reached out to Grace over the phone. God, I don’t even remember what I told her.

  With shaking hands, I open the envelope and read the letter.

  Dear Rosie,

  I’m pleased to inform you I have successfully matched you. I hope you’ll be as satisfied with your match as I am. He meets all of your qualifications and is eager to have a first date.

  Mr. Right Now will be contacting you via our messaging service to make arrangements.

  Included you’ll find his letter to his potential match.

  Best of luck. Please contact me if you have any problems.

  Yours,

  Grace

  Mr. Right Now? I can’t help but smile at the pseudonym. I wonder what he thinks of mine. I slide the second piece of paper from behind the first and stare down at the handwritten letter.

  This is a little strange for me. I’ve never used a matchmaker before, but I have one goal and want to trust the experts to help me. I want someone who wants to share a life with me, to travel the world, and to do good. I’m looking for my forever to start right now.

  From what Grace says, you are that person.

  I’d rather tell you my story face to face. Get to know you. See what happens.

  I hope you’ll give this…us a chance.

  His handwriting is all sharp lines and edges, the ink is dark where he pressed hard on the paper. It’s so different from my own flowing and swirly script. I run my fingers over the indented lines of text as though I can feel him through the ink. Is this the man I’m going to be with forever? Stacy seems to think Grace knows what she’s doing. With a ninety-nine percent success rate, I can’t deny those statistics.

 

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