Sue-Ann Johnson Monroe.
It has a nice ring to it.
It sounds like forever.
Arm in arm, we head back down the aisle now that it’s official to the cheers and claps of the congregation. Max holds me tightly around the waist and he leans in to plant a kiss on my temple. “I can’t wait until later, Mrs. Monroe, when I get to peel that dress off your sexy body.”
I beam up at him as we head to the huge white tent strung up with what must be a million twinkling lights. Thanks to Julia and her spectacular party planning skills, everything is perfect, down to the last detail.
Just like I always dreamed it would be.
All through drinks and dinner, Max and I keep getting interrupted by well-wishers and toasts and kisses and hugs. My heart overflows with emotion and even Meatball lets out a bark or two from underneath the head table where she’s laying down, hoping for a few morsels of filet mignon to drop to the polished portable floor. Ever since Max moved into my place, Meatball’s been enjoying my huge back yard multiple times a day. She even loves Catrick and constantly tries to snuggle him. He just tolerates her and usually walks away to lounge on his kitty bed.
After dinner, a band sets up and prepares to play. My eyes mist over. I always imagined the father/daughter dance and how that would feel and now it’s all happening.
To me.
My dad’s strong arms pull me close, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “I love you, Dad,” I murmur, getting emotional until Max cuts in and steals me away.
We party hard for a few hours until the cocktails kick in and everyone starts enjoying the wedding traditions like the Electric Slide and the Macarena. I finally collapse in a flurry of tulle and exhaustion at the head table.
“The entire Monroe clan is doing the chicken dance, even Meatball,” Jules says, walking up to me as I nurse my second glass of wine. I didn’t want alcohol clouding even one moment of this perfect day. And I know Max agrees because he’s only had a couple of beers along with a sip of champagne to toast. “I’m not sure about this, Sue-Ann.”
I waggle my eyebrows and stare at Max. “I am. He’s got that hockey ass of steel, and it looks great when he shakes it.”
“If Adam joins in like the rest of the team seems to be doing, all bets are off. That’s something I just can’t unsee. How does the band even know this one? Was this one of your concessions along with Meatball riding the Roomba?”
“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” I say, catching my second wind and sashaying out onto the dance floor. “Na na na na na na na,” I sing, crooking my finger at Jules and then clipping my arms like wings along with the growing crowd and then wiggling my ass until my dress swirls around me like a cloud. “Come on, girlfriend. It’s fun!”
After the chicken dance, Max and I flop into chairs beside the parquet floor. He leans in. “I think it’s time to retire for the night. I can’t wait another second to peel that dress off you. Those little ties in the corset back have been calling my name all night.”
I blow him a kiss. “You’re on. Let’s say a quick round of goodbyes.”
A flurry of hugs commence and then we race toward our room, hand in hand, giggling like a couple of prom kids about to give up their v-cards. My passion for him hasn’t waned one sliver, and it still feels like the first time.
Once we’re safely inside, I present my back to him. “Can you untie me?”
“My pleasure.” Max dips his fingers in my cleavage before he finally loosens my laces. “I just have to go to the bathroom really quick, okay,” Max says and rips off his bow tie and tosses it carelessly on one of the plush velvet chairs of the honeymoon suite.
Despite his earlier comments about getting me naked, he’s going to want to see what I have on underneath this dress. I searched far and wide until I found the perfect honeymoon lingerie.
I crawl into the bed and position myself just perfectly so that the white bustier paints me in the most flattering light, pushing my breasts skyward. When he sees the matching thigh-highs and garters, he’s going to lose it, so I don’t anticipate the sexy outfit staying on me very long. But I guess that’s the point of such sexy underpinnings on one’s wedding day.
My eyes widen into saucers when the door swings open and Max appears, wearing his bright purple Armachillos outside his tuxedo pants. The corners of my mouth tug upward. “I like my ensemble much better than yours, Monroe. If you’re trying to seduce me, you’re going about it all wrong.”
He belly flops onto the bed, shifting my body back into the pillows. “Really? You don’t like my drawers, Mrs. Monroe?” He trails a finger down the valley between my breasts and smiles that cocky smirk that I’ll never tire of. Because something fun always comes after it. “I remember you liking them just fine when you came all over my fingers for the first time. That’s why I saved them for a special occasion. Want a repeat performance?”
I thread my fingers through his hair. “Maybe.”
“Under one condition,” he demands, tugging the cups of the bustier down until my breasts fall free and into his waiting hands. “Ah, I like this outfit.”
I sigh my pleasure on a little moan as his thumbs tighten my nipples. “What condition?”
“Leave the stockings on. They frame that pretty pussy just the right way. Like all innocent and pure.” His fingers trail down until they stop just above my heated core. “I can’t believe you’re mine. Always. Forever. I’m so glad Milo sent me to your lacy prison.”
After a few seconds of that exquisite torment, his deft fingers reach around my back and slowly, agonizingly, release each of the hooks holding my bustier in place like he’s unwrapping a precious gift until he eases it away from my body and tosses it to the plush carpet.
Just as I think he’s going to ease the growing ache between my legs, he reaches into the drawer on the nightstand next to the bed. “Wait, I forgot something.” He pulls a book out and flips it open. “I want to read this to you.”
I chew on my lower lip. “You’re going to read me a Bible verse when all I want is my husband to consummate our marriage? Seems a little sacrilegious, doesn’t it?”
Pointing his finger, he trails it along the page. “Not this time.”
He wags a finger at me and holds up the book, and I cringe and groan. “No, not that again.”
Max waves it in front of my face. “Mrs. Monroe, there would be no you and I, no perfect union of our bodies and souls, without this book. I think it’s only right that we bless our first time as man and wife—our second virginities, if you will—with this enlightening manuscript.”
I roll my eyes but shimmy closer and peer down over his arm. “Okay, Ice Shakespeare, speak to me about dicks. Teach me something I don’t already know.”
He gives me a dramatic bow and begins to read, “What do dynamite, hot rods, and erections all have in common?”
I lift one shoulder and let it fall, knowing that will distract him as my breasts bob up and down with the motion. “I give up.”
He tosses the book to the carpet and leans in, caging me in with his huge hands on either side of my body, dipping his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. “Nitric Oxide. And that can create an explosion.”
“What about your Armachillos?” I ask, reaching between us to tug at them. “I don’t think I like so many layers between me and the explosion that I want.”
He gives a little thrust of his hips. “You want my dick, Mrs. Monroe? If you do, you better convince me it’s better than an eggplant.” He laughs, shaking his head as he rips off the underwear in one solid yank. I send up a little prayer of gratitude to them as I also mourn their ultimate demise with a little shiver of nostalgia. It all started with a pair of purple Armachillos. And an alley. Then he unzips his fly and that thick, veiny cock pops free and right into my hand. “It’s yours. Just like every other single part of me.”
He kisses me then. Hard. Soft. Gentle. Rough. Sealing our vows as our bodies connect in every way. Like it’s a foregone
conclusion that our forever will be as perfect as this moment. Our forever will be full of love and babies and memories and laughter and passion.
And most of all—fun.
Thank you for reading GAMED!
I hope you enjoyed Sue-Ann’s journey to happily ever all while having fun taming her naughty younger man.
Don't miss the continuation of the exciting Caribou series. SAVED is up next, featuring Blaine and Cora. Will these two small-town childhood sweethearts ever find their way to each other? Find out in this steamy friends to lovers romance.
Pre-order SAVED now!
Turn the page for an exclusive peek at SAVED from hero Blaine Rice...
SAVED SNEAK PEEK
Like all sad stories, mine begins with Johnnie Walker Red, bad decisions...
And a dick pic.
During a wild night, my teammates start goofing around. Riding me about my childhood crush, Cora.
I love my sweet, smart Cora with all my heart. Since catching fireflies in a mason jar. Since holding hands behind the jungle gym. Since forever.
If I put my heart on the line, she might reject me and shatter it into a million pieces.
It would be over before it even had a chance.
But with one press of a button, her entire knitting circle sees my junk.
Even her grandma.
But they don’t know it’s me in that filthy picture. Whew. Crisis averted.
Until Cora figures out the truth.
Now one silly mistake just might take away my one chance with the woman who holds my heart in the palm of her hand.
Pre-order SAVED now!
Copyright
Gamed by Colleen Charles ©2020 All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Colleen Charles loves reading and writing stories that entertain and sweep the reader away from their everyday life.
Meet more of my characters and prepare to be swept away!
Titles by Colleen Charles
Gamed (Minnesota Caribou Book 4) Page 19
