by Mj Fields
Now between her legs, I sit back on my heels and lift her leg, kissing, licking, and kissing some more until I come to her inner thigh. I inhale. Not wanting a fight but making a mental note to someday tell her she smells too fucking clean, like fucking Irish Spring and not like her, and to never do that shit again, I go with, “You smell good, Kendall, but I’m about to make a mess of you.”
When she opens her mouth to respond, I lean in and take the first lick of the pussy I have craved for months—hell, maybe even since I was a boy—and am thankful she doesn’t taste like soap.
“Ben,” she whimpers.
“You are so fucked.” I lick her again, this time harder. “I’m never going to stop eating your pussy.”
Licking, sucking, tasting her … fuck, I’m even biting her flesh, and her reserve is nearly gone.
Finally, she smells of her, of sweet musk and seduction.
I bury my face against her soft, bare lips and push her legs farther apart, exposing more of her waiting pussy. Mouth and tongue work to please and take pleasure from her her —my fucking fiancée— into a frenzy of moans, whimpers, and curses. She fists the bedsheets, her hips rising to rub against my face.
I look up to see her watching me in some sort of awe and wonder, enticing me to make her come hard and repetitively so she knows exactly what I can do to her, for her, even if my cock is on lockdown.
“Feels so good,” she pants out, and I thrust my tongue inside her, licking deep.
She fists my hair and rocks against me, her body acting on its desire, even though it still hasn’t a clue as to what’s to come.
I squeeze her ass, lifting her as I rub my face back and forth, wanting to bathe in her wetness.
“Ben, Ben, Ben,” she repeats my name like a verse, and when I can’t take it anymore, needing her to feel the rush I am denying myself but won’t deny her, I suck on her clit and am immediately rewarded with wet and warmth spilling from her delicious cunt.
I kiss up her body, nudging her T-shirt up to taste her tits as I give her a brief reprieve from what is going to be a night she will bask in for the rest of her life.
She surprises me by pulling me up and kissing me, hard and with need.
“I love you,” she pants between kisses.
“It’s only gonna get deeper,” I joke, thrusting my covered cock against her belly.
When she reaches into my boxers and pulls it out, I groan at the surprise of it, and then she begins to stroke me.
“I want you to come.”
I run my nose across her tits. “I’m gonna fuck your tits.”
“Okay.” She nods furiously. “Okay.”
I get up and close the curtain so she doesn’t see Big Ben then shed my boxers.
“Open your mouth,” I instruct, and she hesitates. “I’m not gonna fuck your throat, but I’m not gonna fuck you dry either.”
She opens her mouth, and I put my fingers inside. “Suck these like someday you’ll want to suck my cock.”
Two hands around mine, she sucks my fingers.
“Fuck yeah, Kendall, just like that.”
I straddle her, reach back, and rub my hand all over her saturated pussy, getting it nice and wet before rubbing her cum all over my cock. Then I pull my fingers from her mouth and rub the saliva between her tits before thrusting my dick between the valley.
“Does it feel good?” she asks.
“Yeah, sweets, real fucking good.” I push her tits together and slide between them as I pull on her pebbled nipples.
“Oh, oh,” she moans, and I pinch them harder. “Oh yes!”
“Fuck yes,” I growl as I fuck her tits. “Not gonna last long.”
“I want you to come.”
“Better tell me where,” I grunt.
“My mouth?”
And that does it. My balls tense up and burn with the fire of a thousand orgasms.
“Not yet,” I sneer, tugging at her nipples.
“Okay,” she cries, and I jerk back as the first shot is fired somewhere in the dark.
“Fuck yes. Fuck yes. Fuuuuuck.” I pull out from between her tits and stroke my cock, coming all over her belly. Panting, I tug at my balls and try to get my shit together.
“Ben?”
“Sweets, I’m pretty sure I just fucked up Doe Camp.”
She laughs softly. “I’m pretty sure you did, too.”
I climb off her while bending down to kiss her. “I love you.”
She sighs contently. “You better.”
I open the curtain so I can find my boxers and pull them on then look back at her to see she is rubbing her finger around the spot of her belly where I came. It’s hot as fuck. The sexiest thing I’ve seen in my life.
Um, yeah … No … it’s not.
Her sticking her finger in her mouth and giving it a taste is hands down the sexiest thing … ever.
36
Tonight I Celebrate My Love
Ben
One Year Later…
The past year has been a blur. I’ve spent more time in the air than on solid ground. I hate it, but Kendall pushes me to keep living my dream, and I make sure to get home, at the very least, every six weeks to see her, my parents, Rio, and the Ross family. The summer, I stay a bit longer, as race prep is a top priority. That’s Mom and Dad’s bread and butter, and I want to make sure it’s going to be that way for years to come. I never want them to have to put anything before their health … ever again. Music doesn’t have shit on any of them, and I’m learning that more and more every day.
We haven’t fought once, not fucking once, not even about working with The Murphey Brothers again, since she pushed me to do it. Not about her being too busy at school to take advantage of the free travel that I negotiated into my contracts.
Today, it’s been six weeks, and she’s flying into Sweden to walk the red carpet with me and The Murphey’s for the Grammis Awards. Then we’re heading to a ten-day trip, just the two of us.
“What the fuck do you mean the plane is delayed?” I yell at Marna through the phone.
“I mean that the plane is delayed.”
“I haven’t a clue as to why the fuck you have anything to do with my fiancée’s travel plans, but I am telling you, if you fucked this up, I am suing the shit out of you.”
“That’s so very America of you, Ben,” she says condescendingly.
“You know I don’t often stroke my own ego, but I’m gonna remind you where the fuck this band was before I came on board and wrote the songs that have won the Murphey Brothers Grammys in the U.S. and now ECHOs, DMAs, and possibly the Grammis here in Sweden tonight.”
“Might I remind you that you wouldn’t have been vetted by those country music clowns if not for the success of the Murphey Brothers.”
“You wanna go fake tit for tat, feel free to count up your awards and then mine. I’m three ahead.”
I fucking hate this bitch, but when the label offered me half a million dollars for eight more songs, plus royalties, and travel for Kendall when she could be with me, Kendall and I went rounds. I told her that I would only do it if she agreed to only work part-time when she got her license and start trying to get knocked up as soon as we say I do.
My phone beeps with an incoming call, and I pull it away from my ear. Kendall’s number pops up. I disconnect the call from Marna and answer with, “Are you okay?”
“I missed my connecting flight to Sweden.”
“Where are you?”
“London.”
“Fuck,” I grumble.
“I’m going to miss the show, but—”
“Then I am, too.”
“Like hell you are, Ben Sawyer! You’ve worked your ass off for this.”
“Fuck.” I sit down on the plush, velvet couch in one of the backstage rooms at the venue.
“Meet me in London, Ben Sawyer?”
“I’d meet you in hell if I had to.”
She laughs.
“You disappointed?” I ask. Her course lo
ad and tests have made it impossible to attend any of the award shows, except the CMAs.
“No way! We are heading to the Galápagos Islands in two days, Ben. Two.”
“We sure are, little Ross, we sure are.”
“Hey, Ben?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I know, sweets.”
She laughs softly.
“I’m going to make arrangements for London and get our flights rerouted out of there. I’ll send you a text. Do not leave that airport until then, do you understand me?”
“I’ll allow it, but don’t forget, before you, I traveled the world.”
“With Debbie, Jay, and Minister Moe.”
She groans out, “Fine.”
After the arrangements are made and I know she’s safely at the Hilton Paddington, I sit back on the plush, velvet couch and wait for the boys to arrive.
There are worse things than her not being here. Things like cancer and almost losing a family farm. Things like that, and we’ve overcome them all.
Dad is in remission and feeling better. Rio and Mom have been by his side through it all. He and Mom are constantly calling Kendall and asking her advice on every detail of the remodel of the big barn that Ryan Brooks, Jade’s husband, is working on. They want her to have her dream wedding and her home to feel like it’s hers. They love her like she is theirs. Hell, sometimes I think they love her more than me. And guess what? I’m fucking thrilled about it.
Ryan also built Mom and Dad a house big enough for two and a spare bedroom for grandkids. I love that they’re looking forward to something now. Hell, there were a couple of months there when we were afraid Dad wasn’t going to fight anymore. He hated feeling sick from the meds. I bet you can guess who changed his mind.
Yep, Kendall.
Seven Months Later…
Last week, my bride-to-be walked the stage at Albany College of Pharmacy and received her doctorate. Later that night, she received oral and an extra lick in a spot that I couldn’t resist, and she lost her mind. I’d like to say it was in a good way, but it wasn’t.
No ass licking for the future Mrs. Sawyer.
To be fair, I never licked an ass before, but hers was calling my name.
Another thing to remember: “Oops, my bad,” isn’t sufficient enough of an apology for tongue smashing the brown box.
“Germs, Ben! Germs!”
I’m trying my best not to want to have another go at it, but now I’m even more fixated on her ass as a whole and not just her asshole.
Our kids are going to have the best asses in the world.
Kids, we’re going to fill that big old barn with kids. She’s amazingly calm with the Ross kiddos, which is good because I get them all going.
Collin, well, he doesn’t look like he wants to fight me anymore. We even smoked a cigar at the Cape last summer. Apparently, that’s just how he is. And straight-up, he’s better than that asshole Lucas Links is for her anyway. And I know damn well he loves her. That’s all I ever wanted for her … Well, for the her I thought she was, the her who was actually my soul mate, Kendall Ross.
And I can even stomach Lucas now. Although I won’t admit it to anyone else, he seems like a changed man. He treats his wife well and adores his little girl.
On one occasion, I was feeling extra … something when I saw him with little Ava.
“You love her.”
“More than I have ever loved anyone.”
“Even yourself?” I asked.
“Of course even myself,” he snapped at me.
Laughing, I patted his shoulder. “Well, that’s saying a lot, man.”
“Fuck you, Benji,” he spat.
I laughed forever about that conversation. Still makes me laugh.
When we were making our wedding list, John asked if I was going to invite Lucas, and I told my future father-in-law to add him to the long list, right after syphilis and right before cancer. None of the three made the final round.
When Kendall brought over a box of cards that people had sent with regrets, there was one from Lucas and Ashley Links. I gave Kendall shit about inviting them. She told me that she knew he wouldn’t come.
For wedding presents, the fucker got me a year’s worth of singing lessons from some ninety-year-old woman here in town who teaches at the church. Kendall got noise-canceling headphones. I sent him a thank you note with a gift card for protein powder and a giant tube of Bengay. He didn’t respond.
Kendall and I have traveled to all the places she has ever wanted to see, and I’ve eaten her pussy and fucked her tits on every continent. I’m an addict. But that’s not all I’m addicted to when it comes to her. She’s my favorite person on the planet. Bad days be damned, she makes everything okay.
She’s strong when I’m weak and vice versa. I’ve had to delve deep to pull out some Herculean power when it comes to knowing when we have to take a breather. Regardless of how much we both wanted to say screw the promise she made to herself and the one I made to her, whenever it comes down to it, I couldn’t do it.
Not even the fucking tip.
Today, that changes. Today, Mr. Benjamin Sawyer is going to go balls deep in his wife, Dr. Kendall Ross … I mean, Dr. Kendall Sawyer.
Right now, I have an hour before Kendall, who hasn’t even let me go down on her since the ass incident, and the whole Ross crew arrives. Dad’s in town to pick up Mom from the hairdresser, so I have this time to look everything over and make sure it’s exactly as we’ve planned.
The large banquet room filled with rustic tables, benches, and a massive archway where we will say our vows, all came from reclaimed wood from an old hay barn that John had torn down. The old concrete floors have been refaced by pouring concrete over them, and it’s all stamped to look like stones. There’s a floating dance floor in the center of it all, also made of reclaimed wood.
The tables are topped with wildflowers that Kendall and I picked two days ago when we walked up to the falls behind her family’s farm. Each table has a mason jar, with pad a of sticky notes, next to a sign requesting date ideas. The head table is covered with cut roses from the bushes Mom and Dad planted last spring for this very occasion. The entire venue is truly part of both our families.
Mom and Maggie made most of the food. It’s in the new industrial kitchen. Cory and a few of the guys who work the races here are cooking steaks and chicken. When the festivities begin, Cory and Kenny will also be acting as bartenders.
The only thing we butted heads about was music. We have plenty of money and could have hired a band, but she insisted on using that money to buy our own equipment that could be used when other couples married here, or events took place and use a playlist. When she asked me to listen to it before fighting about it with her, I did. When I realized it was every song I had ever sung to her, mixed with some U2, I caved … willingly.
Until it all came together, I was worried Kendall was giving up her church wedding for my parents, but when she said there was nothing more beautiful than it being here, I couldn’t argue.
Standing amongst it all now, it actually feels spiritual.
“Hey, you need anything?”
I look toward the doorway and see Alex, Jake, Molly’s husband Cory, and Collin walking in.
I smile and shake my head. “We’re all set.”
Collin nods. “You sure?”
I laugh, and he smirks and shakes his head.
“We’re family now, Sawyer.”
“That we are, Abrahams.”
He holds out his hand, and I shake it. “Glad you found your true love.”
“Yeah, man.” I nod. “Me, too.”
37
You and I
Kendall
Nearly two years ago, I left the most beautiful country, Ireland, with only a piece of my heart. I left the rest with Ben. With it, I left a promise to give us a chance. To explore the possibilities when time allowed. I knew he would be traveling the world, living his dream, while I s
tudied my ass off, securing a career that would afford me the ability to feed my soul’s desire—to see the world. Clearly, the whole Marna thing happened, but after that was all cleared up, it was obvious that promise needed to be kept
The journey wasn’t without heartache, it wasn’t without tears, and it wasn’t without regret.
We loved, we hated, we fought—my God how we fought—we broke up, we got back together, we laughed, we cried, but most importantly, we loved. The day I said yes to his proposal, it all stopped.
This past year, as the worldwide web became more accessible, so was the ability to see all that was accessible to a sexy lyricist who traveled with the bands, and artists, that hired him to create songs that became billboard chart-toppers, Grammy winners, as well as being a huge international successes. Short skirts, tube tops, women who didn’t hold on to their innocence as fiercely as I did, who could have easily broken a man who wasn’t truly in love and holding out for me. Add one certain female agent who tried her damnedest and almost succeeded in tearing us apart twice, yet here we are, stronger because of it.
So many things have changed. Hell, I even abandoned the random shuffle as a credible means of answers in matters of the heart and learned to trust myself—because of Ben.
We pull up in front of the barn on Sawyer Hill, a place that I will call home, a place I will raise babies with a man who doesn’t just say he loves me but proves it over and over again, a man who will make me laugh and keep me swooning for all the days to come. He has more than proven he is my fairytale prince … except for the ass incident, he’s actually quite perfect.
“You good?” Tessa asks as she squeezes my hand.
I look over and nod. “I am beyond good.”
She beams. “I’m so happy for you.”
“And I’m happy for you, too.”
“You’re a doctor!” She laughs.
Phoebe smiles. “We’re envious.”