Unexpected Bride

by Abigail Graham

  Not Julia. Julia sees.

  She just doesn't know what she sees, or that look would be replaced by disgust. I wouldn't make the sun rise anymore, that's for sure.

  Oh, it's dinner. The plates are set before us and I sigh in relief. This interminable torture will be over soon. Dad will want to take the men for drinks and Mom will want to take the ladies for drinks and no one will care if I get the hell out of here and get away from these people and go somewhere where I can crawl up into my own skull until I stop thinking about what I did.

  Julia is staring at my hand. I squeeze my fork so hard, it bends around my first finger. Karen gives me the same look. For a moment, both of them are too worried about me to notice what the other is doing.

  That hurts. Any sign that deep down, Karen doesn't hate my guts hurts. If she really does love her brother, she's just another person for me to disappoint.

  I need to leave. I really need to leave.

  I can't be here. I can't. I can't breathe.

  Julia jabs me with her foot, staring so intently it hurts. Somehow, I start to calm down. God, I don't want her to see me like this. I don't know what would be worse—if she learned how disgusting I really am, or she saw how weak I can be. I press my eyes shut.

  When I open them, my father is looking right at me, and when our eyes meet, rage chases away all the other emotions. You don't know, old man, you cannot know. You have no right. You—

  Julia is cutting up her spaghetti. She is cutting up her spaghetti. Using a butter knife, she slices it into short bits and pushes them onto her fork, then takes a bite. It isn't until she's swallowed that she notices everyone at the table is staring at her. As is one of the waitresses and, I think, a bus boy.

  I've never seen anyone go pale. If she lost any more color, she'd turn transparent.

  "Bruce, what is it exactly that you do?" I ask.

  Julia melts with relief, shrinking her shoulders down as she cuts into her singular meatball.

  He looks at me amiably.

  "I sell supplements."

  "Supplements," I say.

  "Yeah. You know, herbals, vitamins, that kind of thing."

  Karen tenses slightly as my father's eyes swivel over to Bruce. He looks weirdly artificial when he does that, like a security camera panning for trespassers.

  "Sounds interesting. How'd you get into that?"

  "I ran through a few things, you know, tried my sails a few times, but I didn't get a good wind going. That was around when I met Karen, when things started to take off. I guess I was doubly blessed."

  "You mean door to door?" my father says.

  Karen glares daggers at me.

  "No, sir, on the internet."

  Ah, he knows to call him sir. That should gain him some family respect points.

  "The internet," my father says. "I never thought that would take off."

  Now everyone is looking at him like the alien. The one thing I envy about the old man is his ability to completely ignore what other people think of him. They might as well be goggling at the wall. Even Mom rolls her eyes, but I think he learned to ignore her even before they got married.

  "Julia," my mom says, suddenly. "How have you been? I haven't spoken to you in ages. Since you two moved."

  Julia smiles with genuine warmth.

  Dad looks at Mom as if to say, why would you want to?

  "I'm well," she says primly. "Our business is going well."

  "Oh yes, I know that. Karen has told me all about it. How are you? The person?"

  Dad couldn't be more childishly bored if he threw his napkin down and faked a yawn.

  Julia shrugs. "I've been busy. I haven't had a lot of time for personal stuff for a while now."

  "I'm surprised. Pretty as you've grown up to be, I figured you'd bring a plus one yourself."

  Julia blushes. "Not today."

  Her eyes almost wander to me, but she catches herself.

  "Funny, that," Mom says. "We have an eligible bachelor and bachelorette at the table. I wonder where the bouquet will end up tomorrow?"

  Did she...

  Did Mom just...

  I'm not the only one thinking it. Julia beams. Karen scowls. Dad glares murder at Mom, ignoring Julia and Karen entirely. Bruce is glancing at me. Todd farts.

  A moment of terrible silence settles over the table as everyone fights the urge to ask what that barbecue smell is. No one does, thankfully. Karen just crinkles her nose while Julia intently sniffs a fork full of spaghetti for something else to smell. My appetite is mostly dead, so I pick at my meal, good as it is.

  All of a sudden, the plates are collected. This ordeal is almost over.

  "Dessert?"

  Again, we choose from the prixe fixe menu. I'm content to accept two gourmet cookies and an espresso. Julia takes a slice of peach pie. No cake is served, obviously. There will be cake aplenty tomorrow.

  For a wonder, everyone is quiet.

  "Well," Dad finally says, tossing down his napkin. "I've booked us a private lounge for a few after dinner drinks. Would the gentlemen care to join me?

  Julia looks at me as if I might disappear forever as I rise to leave. I shoot her a sympathetic look.

  Mom says, "The girls with me."

  I shove a sheaf of twenties into the hostess' hand, telling her to spread them around in apology for dealing with my father. Bruce and Todd fall in with a few of the other guys, mostly my cousins. As everyone heads down the stairs and across the street, I say to no one in particular,

  "I had a rough night last night. I think I'll turn in. Don't want to be late."

  "That's good, son," Dad says with his usual casual indifference. "Wouldn't want you making a spectacle of your sister's wedding."

  I turn quickly and rush off towards the beach. The sun had dipped to the horizon while we were eating, and it looks like molten gold spread across the water, but I'm too queasy to take in the sights. I rush away from the resort, or, at least, away from our resort. There's a dozen of them lining the beach, looming towers full of lights and every light a happy room with a family or a couple or someone just here for the sea.

  I walk until I have to stop and realize I don't know how far I've gone, except I can see my own hotel tower far in the distance. Was I running?

  Drink. I need a drink.

  I hear her first, the patter of her flat shoes on the concrete sidewalk. Slick with sweat and panting, Julia bolts up to me, almost skidding to a stop like a cartoon character. She leans on her knees for a few heaving breaths.

  "I run two miles a day and I can't even touch you," she rasps, sucking in air. "Are you part jackrabbit?"

  "No," I say, shaking my head. "Just kept up my exercise."

  "Karen never told me you were in the Navy," she says, standing finally. "Whenever I asked, she just said you were in college or 'overseas.’"

  I tense.

  "You don't want to talk about it. It's okay."

  I stare at her, trying to figure her out.

  I open my mouth, close it.

  I want to tell her that I do want to talk about it, I just can't, and I can't tell her. Anybody but her. She steps closer, her presence filling me with a hot swell in my chest. She rests her hands there and I don't stop her, feeling the cool touch of her palms through my shirt and the soft play of still sharp breathing on my throat. She looks even more beautiful in the sunset, the low light bringing out the softness and elegance of her features.

  She really is elegant, like some rare and exotic bird, too delicate for the world but here anyway, in defiance of it.

  "I think your mom has the right idea."

  "So you picked up on that."

  "I picked up on a lot of things," she says and strokes the outline of my cock through my pants.

  Then she yanks the balled-up underwear.

  "Gotcha," she says and bolts, shouting, "Catch me if you can!"

  Chapter Five

  Julia

  My legs pump furiously. I haven't run all out like this in a w
hile, but catching up to Ryan was a good warm up. Now he has to catch up to me. I don't even know where I'm going, just running along the beach, past a bunch of boats.

  Behind me, Ryan bolts in pursuit.

  He's fast, but I'm quick, and there's a difference. I can go to full speed in an instant and he takes time to warm up, especially after that run he just made. I open the gap quickly and bring him tearing after me, to the stares of some passing couples.

  "Did she take his wallet?" someone says as I pass them.

  I have no time to glare, and I don't want to trip and go flying. Ryan closes in on me, running harder, and excitement flares in my chest. I want to be caught and he damn well knows it.

  Then he's there, and he hooks an arm around me and lifts me from my feet.

  "Oof," I cry out as he skids to a stop and sets me on my toes. He wrenches my used panties out of my hand and jams them in his pocket.

  "Those are mine," he growls.

  "Are they," I say, playfully reaching for them.

  He catches my wrist.

  "Mine."

  "Oh yeah?"

  Now he has both wrists and I mock struggle, then pull loose, dancing backwards on my heels.

  "You look mad. What are you going to do to me if you catch me?"

  "I already caught you," he says.

  "Yeah, but I got loose, and you're not done with me."

  I bolt, and he chases. This time he catches me easily. I don't have infinite energy and I start panting quickly, but he barely seems winded.

  "You spent yourself on that sprint," he explains, pulling me to him by the waist. "You're not going anywhere now."

  "Oh no, he got me," I purr. "What happens now?"

  He looks around. Then, he grabs me and pulls me down a doc, past a row of boats. Seemingly at random, he lifts me bodily, ignoring my squeak of alarm, to set me on the rocking deck, and climbs in after me.

  "Is this your boat?"

  "Of course not."

  "We can't do this. What if there's, like, a boat alarm?"

  "Seriously?" he says.

  "Ryan, I don't know—"

  "I do," he says, lightly pushing me away from the dock. "We're commandeering it. Congratulations, you're a pirate. Now come here. I want your precious booty."

  I blink. "Did you really just say that?"

  In answer, he kisses me, hard, and I feel like a puppet with my strings cut, collapsing into him in one hot hell of a mess. His hands roam my back, and he lifts the hem of my dress and grabs a handful of my ass, squeezing so hard I chirp into his mouth.

  He stops. He pulls back and looks down at me.

  "What’s this? A thong?."

  I grin.

  "Are you saying you'd rather I be wearing granny panties?" I ask, playfully.

  "I'd rather you be wearing nothing."

  "Well, don't let your dreams be dreams. Just try not to rip my dress to shreds this time. You'll have to run in somewhere and buy me something."

  He puts his hands on my hips and guides me back, down a short staircase. This isn't a big boat, and it doesn't even really have a cabin. Nor does it need one.

  Ryan pulls me close, and we kiss. His mouth is hot on my lips, then my throat, and his hands are everywhere. I fumble at his belt and yank it open with a soft jangle of the buckle and push his pants down and his cock almost leaps into my hands, hot and hard, and I draw it through my fingers as he moans softly, shuddering.

  Ryan gasps as I fall to my knees.

  "I guess you don't remember the last time I did this," I murmur, my lips now inches from the head of his cock.

  He stares at me wild-eyed, his whole body shaking with anticipation. This is too sweet. I feel like I'm cheating. I get to do this for the first time twice. At least, for him.

  I use my hands first, feeling the heat, the hardness, before I draw him into my mouth. The warmth and taste and texture on my tongue are all amazing but what I love most is the uncontrolled animal groan of pleasure that ripples out of him, and the way his hands experimentally move to my shoulders, neck, head, finally tangling one in my hair. Not hard, not forcing anything, just touching as I suck and lick.

  He pulls me close, overwhelming with his presence. I fantasized about this so much, now that it's actually happening, I can scarcely believe it's real. The salt air, the rocking boat, the warm breeze, and most of all, him.

  Even as he grows rock hard between my lips, a nagging doubt struggles at the back of my mind. I push it away, looking up at him. Somehow, we just click, and it's like he reads my mind. The offer, quietly, is made. I'll finish you off right now, Ryan.

  He pulls me away from him and then to my feet. He's overwhelmingly big in every way, towering over me, engulfing me. When he kisses me it's like he gobbles me up. His lips are aggressive, heedless of what I was just doing, and I soon forget everything but his touch.

  I still have him in my hand.

  When I open my eyes, he looks at me and moves my legs apart with his hands, dipping into a half squat. He presses me into the wall and rises, and I bite my bottom lip and hum at the sensation of him entering me. It still hurts a little at first, but that's gone quickly when he goes deeper, rising as he takes me.

  A little pull and I lock my arms around his leg, and he's holding me, one hand around my waist, another cupping my ass, pinned to the wall behind me. Gunwale. Whatever. It's part of the boat, and it's tall enough for him to press me into and hold me there so I can bring my legs up and lock them around him.

  He moves slowly, savoring, and the fullness is exquisite and unbearable. I moan at the slightest move and touch, squeezing his muscles and raking his skin with my nails. Come on, fast, fuck me, damn it!

  Ryan denies me, and that denial is so sweet. The power. The surrender. A shake and I know to lower my legs. He draws out of me slowly and takes me by the back of the neck, holding me still as he—gingerly, this time—guides the straps of my dress down my shoulders. It slides down and falls loose to pool around my feet and I stand there in the fading sunlight, naked, my skin prickling from the sudden, unexpected coolness as the heat of day fades into the freeze of night. Ryan discards his shirt and then his pants are gone, and we're both naked as the day we were born.

  He pulls me to him and I stop him with a hand on his chest. I hold his throbbing cock in my other, caressing it lightly with my fingers, thinking of the pleasure and the release to come as my other hand roams over his body. Leaning in, I kiss his neck, and he gasps in shock as my own lips wander over his skin, down his chest, my tongue lightly flicking one nipple before I draw a yelp with a gentle bite.

  It turns into a game. He replies with the same, his mouth on my breasts, hot and wet. I gasp and stifle a giggle with my hand when he licks a particular spot just under my breast, which only makes him attack it until I'm squirming and writhing against him.

  He lowers me to the deck, and I throw my legs open to use my heels to pull him in. Ryan thrusts into me hard and I arch under him and cry out, only to choke off my own sounds with sheer willpower. Someone could hear us.

  That only makes it hotter, stokes the fires in my loins as my heart begins to thunder. Ryan is suddenly no longer gentle, but it doesn't matter, my body is more than ready for him and I meet his frantic energy with my own, bucking our hips together with a staccato of loud slaps and soft flesh-on-flesh sounds.

  As quiet as thieves, we fuck on the bottom of the boat until I can feel him getting close. I pinch his shoulder and bite his chin and he slows, then rolls over.

  I'm on top. I put my hands on his chest, steady myself, close my eyes, and grind, rolling his hardness inside me as I grind my clit against him, until I'm shaking, every muscle tensing.

  I won't be holding it back much longer. Ryan strains, his whole body tight with effort.

  I cry out and he pulls me into his shoulder as he sits up, our bodies locked together as a climax rips through me with sudden ferocity, tracing frozen fire along every nerve ending from my toes to my scalp. I have to bite him to s
tay quiet, but he doesn't care. He pulls me into him and crushes into me hard and in the depths of my own gripping orgasm I can feel him pulsing, a shuddering intensity within my own.

  My eyes flick open and I wonder what instinct drives me to submit to him without thinking, to leap at the chance to have him inside me. But isn't he my husband? One flesh?

  It feels like it now. I don't know where he starts and I stop.

  His back is sweaty under my hands. He's still inside me.

  A flashlight beam cuts through the dark, and we both freeze. It sweeps over the boat.

  Gingerly, I reach out and manage to pinch my dress between my toes and pull it back before the beam hits it. It lingers there for a moment.

  "Anybody there?" a voice calls.

  Ryan looks at me in horror.

  Yeah, we're going to jail for this. I don't know if there's a specific law against fucking on someone else's boat but there has to be some rule we're breaking. Indecent exposure at sea. Carnal theft. Commandeering a boat for immoral purposes. Something.

  I can't think straight with his dick inside me. That's a problem.

  Finally, the beam slashes away and footsteps recede down the dock. I relax.

  "We need to get out of here," I whisper.

  "You cannot fast travel when enemies are nearby."

  I blink at him, then punch his chest.

  "Ow," he says, too loud. Then he whispers, "You leave marks, you know that?"

  I rub at the welt left on his shoulder. "Sorry, honey."

  "At least it isn't in a spot where someone will see. Last thing I need tomorrow is my sister asking where I got this or that bite mark. Damn, girl."

  I grin stupidly.

  "We should get up," he says.

  "Mmmm. That'd mean pulling out."

  "Yeah, it would," he agrees.

  "But you're getting hard again."

  "Yes, I am. We need to pace ourselves."

  "You might say we're fucking like newlyweds."

  "You might say that," he sighs, sadly, and kisses my forehead. "Come on, baby, put your clothes on."

  "Most guys have to ask for them to come off."

  He grins. "I can get yours off any time I want."