Lydia smiled and pointed. “That one. She had it chosen from before she even got here. It’s a beautiful dress and before I met you, I would’ve pushed you toward it. But, it’s not very you. Don’t tell her I told you, though.”
“Mum’s the word. So, which would you pick for me?”
“That one, definitely.”
January studied the dress she’d indicated. “Noted.”
After Lydia excused herself, January donned the first dress. She did need a little help with some fastenings. Before she could call for Lydia, she knocked on the door to tell her everyone was in place in the viewing room and to bring her a glass of champagne. After granting her permission to enter, Lydia gasped.
“Wow, you look…amazing.”
“Thanks, one of those for me?” January knew the answer already, but she needed that drink and had to snap Lydia to somehow. The woman was memorized, it seemed.
“Actually, they both are. With that crowd, I figured you could use it.” As soon as she spoke, the beautiful woman snapped her head up, her eyes stricken in fear. “Oh, forgive me, that wasn’t my place. I shouldn’t have—”
January relieved her of both glasses and gulped both of them down like tequila shots in a bar. “No worries, Lydia. You’re correct, that’s an…exhausting crowd.” Lydia’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “No, exhausting is too nice. They’re shitty people, Lydia. All of them, and personally, you are a fucking saint for dealing with them and not ending up with a date with a judge and a potential three-to-five vacation courtesy of the state.”
Lydia, bless her heart, took the flutes back from January and went to the curtained-off area. “I stocked in here as well, just in case.” Peering around Lydia, she noticed a bar setup with an already opened and chilled bottle of champagne and a spare. “No offense, but I met your mother before, remember? Sadly though, this was to be my stash, I…” Trailing off, Lydia returned with two full glasses.
“Thanks.” January took a sip and then tried to fill in the blanks. “Let me guess, you met my mother and my awful future mother-in-law and thought holy shit, the bride must be some piece of work. Am I right?”
Lydia blushed and studied her feet. “Well—”
A laugh sprang up from January so forceful, she doubled over, almost spilling her drink. “You don’t have to answer. I know what I would’ve thought if I were you.” For some reason, January trusted Lydia. Maybe she shouldn’t have, but she needed an ally until the papers showed up, anyway, then she could bolt and never look back. Until then, she wanted to have fun, and she needed a friend to do that.
“If I tell you something, can you keep it a secret? You can’t let on in any way.” Taking their glasses and setting them on a shelf out of the way, Lydia agreed.
“Of course, you’re my client. No matter who retained me, I work for the bride. Not to mention, I really like you, January. You’re so refreshing, a far cry from my usual clientele. Now, turn around and lean over the bench—”
January couldn’t let that set up go. “Last time someone said that, I ended up with a dick inside me.”
“And I’ll get you strapped into this dress so...” Lydia tried to continue her thought until January’s words hit her. She laughed so hard, she starting snorting. Both were fighting for air when her mother pounded on the opposite door wondering where January was.
Their laughter receded, and they dried their tears. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? Ooo, but first, the secret?”
“Of course. I’m not marrying the spawn of the old cuntbag out there. If I’m lucky, I’ll settle for shacking up with an aviation mechanic with tattoos for days, a talented as fuck tongue, and a hella big pierced cock.” Lydia gasped. “Even better, you get to witness a blow to my mother’s ego. So at about eleven thirtyish, make sure you’ve got your cell phone out. You will not want to miss it.”
“That good, huh?”
“Oh yeah.” January made her way to the stage door before turning back. “How much for the dress you picked out?”
“That is tier five…I could have it in about three months, it’s a custom, so not cheap, but…I don’t understand.”
January laughed again. “Not to order, but to purchase the try-on one right there? I plan on pulling a runaway bride and bolting out the door in my red Chucks and that dress after my mother gets her surprise delivery. Can you have an Uber or cab waiting and go ahead and charge me for the dress?”
When comprehension took hold, Lydia glowed. “These try-ons go missing all the time, no charge at all. The look on everyone’s face will be payment enough. Besides, this is the most fun I’ve had a this dead-end job since I started part-time in college.”
“Why, fashion not your passion?”
“Oh, it is, always has been, even my focus of studies. Brides, however, are not. I just never thought I’d end up with a degree in fashion design and getting champagne thrown in my face by bridezillas who want to wear a size two on their wedding day when they’re a size fourteen, like me, every other day of the year. Sorry, I shouldn’t be droning on.”
January released the knob and came back to Lydia to embrace her. “No apologies. And guess what, if you’re interested in a change of scenery, I know some people in the business in Florida. I can put in a good word for you. I plan to head there as fast as I can and never look back. I would love to have my new friend to hang out with at the beach and talk shit about others with.”
January wasn’t sure how much sway she still held with Tori and Erika, but they were businesswomen first, so if Lydia was any good, they’d snap her up. January squeezed her once more and exited to the viewing room.
Of course, everyone hated the dress, but that was okay, she didn’t give a rat’s ass. Of course, she pretended to be disappointed, giving her mother yet another boost. The higher they are, the harder they fall.
January continued until she got to the dress Lydia chose. By that time, she and Lydia were on bottle number two. It felt perfect on her. It was a stunning gown. One she could see Logan approving of. She heard the bell of the door indication someone had entered.
“That’s my cue.” Lydia exited the back door, and January walked out onto the stage like a queen. Before her mother had time to shoot down yet another dress that wasn’t her choice, January choked on her own tongue when she met Andrew’s stunning eyes. When he said he’d serve Melody, she didn’t know he meant he’d serve her.
Andy whistled low. “Wow, Miss Thing, you are looking like a dream in that number.”
Logan entered unseen and found the dressing room. After turning off the lights, he cracked the other door open to observe the room. His eyes locked on January’s back. He could only see her partially from his vantage point, but she was stunning.
January’s mother stood and sputtered and spewed like the old shrew she was. “Excuse me, but who are you and what are you doing here?” A look of almost recognition was slowly seeping into the old bitch’s eyes, but it wasn’t quick enough, because Andy took and maintained control of the situation.
“Ah, the esteemed Melody Thorne, I presume. What a thrill to finally…actually, meet you. I’m Andrew Wellington.” Andy extended his hand and went in for a cheek kiss, which of course the older Thorne shied away from, until the other lady leaned in a whispered something to Melody.
“Did you say Wellington? Of the—”
Andy interrupted. “I see my name precedes me. I bet you’re rethinking that greeting, now aren’t you? Never mind, I only offer once, and of course, it was merely a social courtesy I extended. I shan’t make the same mistake again. By the way, this is for you.” Andy bowed like he had just been introduced at court.
It was clear, even from this limited view, Andy’s insult had fallen flat, and she was ripping into the envelope like a gift. Not waiting, Andy started explaining the cease and desist order to her as if he were a waiter explaining how the daily special was prepared. He was so damn enthusiastic. When he paused and turned to January, Logan knew it was time.<
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“January, sweetheart, why don’t you go change? You are quite done here. For good.” Turning back to January’s mother, Andy picked up his previous explanation. “Now where was I? Oh yes, any attempt to slander or otherwise…” Logan clicked the door shut as gently as possible and melted into the shadows behind the curtain. The anticipation was killing him.
When the door opened, the swath of light didn’t touch him, but angry voices did. Andy’s was the most dominating and before the door closed again, January’s mother and the rest of the ladies were silent.
The sound of January’s sigh reached his ears. It was heavenly even with her frustration evident. “Lydia? Are you in here?” When no answer came, January starting speaking to herself, “How am I to find my shoes in the blasted dark?” Her voice was moving away and by her victorious, “ah-ha,” her eyes must have adjusted. Logan could wait no longer.
“Running yet again, little Rabbit?” Logan exited the curtain. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. What am I going to do with you?”
January’s whispered, “Logan,” was followed by two rapid and soft thunks and her gasp. It was the same gasp she made in bed, and just like that, he could drive railroad spikes into the ground with his cock.
Logan walked right up on her, invading her personal space but not touching her. Only his breath caressed her when he inquired, “Miss me?” directly into her ear.
He damn near lost his balance when she launched at him like a satin-covered missile. Her legs around his waist were divine as she rained down kisses on his face. Something happened inside her beautiful head that made her scramble off him. “Oh, God, Logan. I have so much to explain. I beg you to forgive me. I should’ve…” January trailed off, clearly frustrated but unsure what to say.
Letting her linger in that state would be cruel, and he wasn’t about to heap on more guilt to what she was already feeling over her sister.
There was just enough light bleeding in around the door to see silhouettes, and Logan could tell something was different about January and it wasn’t just the dress he’d barely caught a glimpse of through the crack of the door earlier. He stepped back toward the door he entered through, “Close your eyes, Rabbit.” He needed to see her, not just a shadow. Lights were not just for him, he also wanted her to see the forgiveness, acceptance, and love in his eyes.
The room flooded with light when he flipped the switch the opposite way than he had upon entering. “Wow.” Logan had no other words as his soul drank in the whole sight of her. The wedding dress was what he would’ve pictured her wearing for him had he not planned to whisk her away to the courthouse before she realized how fucking damaged he was.
January took a shy posture, running her hands along the side of her head. “You like it?” Her voice told him that her heart hung on his opinion.
Eating up the space between them, Logan took her in his arms, running his hand through the long, now deep purple, hair that was there. The sides of her head were shaved all the way down, leaving a wide Mohawk area of her long mane. The color was vibrant just like her. It suited her to a tee.
When he wound it around his fist and maneuvered her head back and to the side, she moaned. It was his undoing. He imagined binding her hair in an intricate ladder of knots and fisting it like a bridle while he rode them both to pleasure. It would be a thing of ultimate beauty.
He attacked her neck like a starving man would a buffet. That’s what she was to him in a way—he was certainly fucking starving—a physical and emotional buffet he planned to gorge on.
“God, I fucking need to be inside you. NOW!” Logan released her hair and turned her around. Facing the cove of mirrored walls, their eyes met. He was gathering the heaps of pale pink-colored satin above her waist. When he finally reached her underwear, he faltered and broke eye contact to see what the fuck he was dealing with.
While he fumbled, January halted his hands with hers, dropping her eyes. “We really need to talk Logan, I…there…you deserve—” Logan cut her off with a growl, sending his eyes back to their reflection. One of his tanned and tattooed hands appeared at the front of her white throat, forcing her neck straight and her gaze to lock and remain on his.
“Do you love me? Did you touch him like you do me? Can we keep this dress?” He gave her love bites on the back of her neck between each question while maintaining intense eye contact. Her answering moans had him on the verge of just rubbing one out against her lace-covered ass.
“Yes, God yes. More than you know.” He rewarded her with a tug on her ear lobe. “Ew, no, never. And yes, I planned to anyway.” January gasped when he managed to get one hand down the top of the dress and pinch her straining nipple, while tightening the hold on her throat.
“All excellent answers which deserve a reward. Later, I’ll take my time and love every square inch of your body, but for now, this will have to be a quick, dirty fuck. We have an appointment at the Geneva County courthouse this afternoon to get hitched.” Logan walked her forward with his body, watching her face the entire time.
Shifting them sideways so they came up along the length of the padded dressing bench, he commanded her up on her knees. She started to remove the dress, “Uh-uh, the dress stays, Rabbit. We won’t be surrounded by this many mirrors anytime soon, and I want you to remember this day as our wedding day.”
After helping her maneuver the dress, January was on all fours on the hot pink bench. So many contrasts, and Logan took a moment to appreciate every single one of them. He could see her from multiple angles. A heap of virginal fabric around her waist and dripping down to the floor but her red lace-covered ass wiggled in the air waiting to be spanked. Her purple hair bright against her pale skin and the barely pink dress as it fell over one exposed shoulder. Logan standing there in leather and denim, with permanently dirty nails, tattoos on overload, and plenty of piercings.
Before the Reids had gotten into his head and heart, those contrasts would’ve sent him bolting. Now? Now they just meant he wasn’t ashamed of being considered poor white trash anymore. He was who he was, and for the first time he could ever remember, people loved him for it, not in spite of who he was, but because of it. And I love myself now too, thanks to the woman right here.
“Naughty girl, wearing red under there the whole time.” Before old doubts could even get a chance to make him question her motives, she suppressed them.
“I wore it for you. I planned to run out of here in my dress like a bad Lifetime movie heroine and come straight to you. Beg your forgiveness and do whatever I had to in order to make you mine again.” Logan was blown away by her confession. It solidified everything he was feeling. He hoped like hell he wouldn’t always need that kind of reassurance. He was already getting better at the whole trust and family thing. Right or not, it was a balm he needed.
He bent down in front of her, taking her cheeks in his hands. “You don’t have to beg forgiveness—although other begging is still on the table—it was yours the minute I read the words, I choose you.” He rose and stepped up beside her, trailing his finger along the folds of material. “As far as being yours again, that can’t happen.” No more waiting. Logan straddled the bench behind her. “Because I never stopped being yours, and I never will.”
Logan freed his aching cock and slid it under the red lace covering her ass. The piercing winked at him from between the weaves. He reached for the waist again only to realize there was no waistband. “How the fuck do I get this fucking thing off? I’m about to just fucking rip it open.”
Holding his gaze in the mirror, January spoke seductively, “It unsnaps. Just put your fingers where I need them most, and you’ll find the secret entrance.” Logan slid his hand around her hip and between her legs. There he found the soaked snaps and ripped them apart with a series of clicks.
He groaned.
Twenty-One
January was giddy with excitement. Logan was here. He forgave her, and he wanted to freaking marry her. Her life couldn’t possibly get any better than this. Her blis
s was momentarily interrupted with a major concern. Concern for her sister as a result of her actions.
Logan’s eyes narrowed on hers in the mirror. “Where did you go, Rabbit? This is all about us, but there seems to be someone else,” he ran a hand up her back to tap her temple, “here.”
“Gus. I’m—” The hand covered her lips, damming her mouth.
“Rabbit, I have my hard cock pressed against your ass cheek. Your sister is the last person on my mind. I know you’re worried, but it’s all good. She has John, and they’re prepared if the worst should happen, but mostly, she wants you to be happy.”
Logan ground against her slowly. Taking his cock in hand, he stroked her clit with the piercing, causing her to moan into his fingers. “And I know what will make you happy. Do you want that January, do you want to be happy? Do you want my cock?”
January couldn’t nod her head fast enough, her sister long forgotten. Those few words were apparently all she needed to turn into a cock-hungry chick in a wedding dress. The fact that her heart knew Logan’s words about Gus to be true helped. A part of her felt guilty for not trusting Gus to make that choice long ago, but she had always wanted so much to protect her. But now all I want is to get nasty with the man I love.
“Pllss jus fk mm.” Her pleas came out muffled; she licked his fingers to encourage him to move his hand. When he did, he gripped her hip roughly. His fingers seared her sensitive skin. “Please, fuck…uhhhh.”
Her words were cut off when his cock bottomed out inside her. Before she had time to adjust, Logan had gripped her other hip and was relentlessly and deliciously pounding into her.
The intensity in his eyes did things to her she couldn’t even begin to fathom. “Oh, God, Logan. I love having you inside me,” she panted.
“What a coincidence.” Logan’s hip ground into her ass, sending his piercing deep against a very sensitive spot. “I love being inside you.” Logan leaned back, dragging her hips along for the ride and changing the angle again. The whimper it forced from her throat sounded more like a feral cat than a woman, so it shocked her to realize it was her.
Unmistakably Us (Imagine Ink Book 5) Page 22