by Kat Catesby
I hate that she reached a point where she was that hurt and angry, and I should’ve seen it coming. Kelsey is one of the most tolerant and understanding people I know until you push her too far. Then she has a fierce and fiery temperament and a tongue sharp enough to cut you down to size. She doesn’t pull her punches.
And it’s not like I wasn’t monumentally pissed off myself – not with Kelsey, but with my interfering family once again. I gave her all the logical reasons why it wasn’t a smart idea to call my family and lose my shit with them, but in truth, if they had cost Kelsey her job, I would’ve unleashed years of pent up rage on them. Luckily for all involved, Kelsey’s boss has a backbone and wasn’t about to be manipulated by my conniving ex.
I love that word: ‘ex’.
She is officially no longer my problem.
I know a lot of people feel a sense of loss and mourning when a divorce is finalized, but not me. I mourned our marriage years ago when I realized it was over. Yesterday was just a formality. Now I’m as free legally as I’ve felt free emotionally. The last ounce of her burden has been lifted and I have the perfect way to celebrate…
* * *
“Good morning and welcome to The Wynn, may I take your name?” says the chirpy, yet pristinely presented receptionist when we arrive at our hotel a few hours later.
Kelsey opens her mouth to answer but I beat her to it. “Fox. Mason Fox.”
I see Kelsey look at me like I’ve forgotten something very obvious and begin to correct me.
“I made the reservations through work, the room is booked under Harper,” she says the last part to the receptionist, who pauses a moment, unsure of which name to check first.
“Trust me,” I say, with more of a grin than I mean to, “the reservation is
under Fox.” I look the receptionist squarely in the eyes and try to convey that she should just go with me on this one, despite Kelsey’s confusion and growing protestations.
The receptionist quickly types my name into her computer and a small grin tugs on her perfectly painted lips. I’m guessing she can see all the notes and requests that were made with my reservation. “Ah yes, Mr. Fox. I have your room keys all ready for you and Joseph will take your bags,” she indicates to the immaculately dressed bellhop who materializes from nowhere.
“What did you do?” whispers Kelsey as we make our way to the bank of elevators.
“Upgraded our room,” I answer innocently. What’s the point of investing wisely if I can’t treat the woman I love now and then? Even if I do have to spring it on her for her to let me.
“Why? It’s The Wynn; it’s not like the standard room I booked was going to be awful.”
“I know. All will become clear,” I say mysteriously to which she just arches a brow, clearly bemused.
It doesn’t take her long to change her opinion once the door to the suite opens and she catches sight of the view.
“Oh my god! Do you see that? The view is amazing!”
In typical Kelsey style, she doesn’t even notice the opulence of the room – a three-bedroom presidential suite full of sumptuous furnishings and shimmering marble. Nope. My woman heads straight for the balcony and the uninterrupted view of the strip with the desert and mountains in the distance.
That works for me anyway; I want to be on the balcony.
I tip the bellboy and once he leaves the room, I join Kelsey outside.
“Can you believe this view!” she squeals with excitement, her eyes wide like saucers and her back to me.
That also works for me.
I take a deep breath and try to slow my rapidly increasing heartrate while what can only be described as butterflies invade my chest, their beating wings making it harder for my lungs to inflate.
I’m not scared to ask; I’m excited to see her reaction and that excitement has flooded my system with more adrenaline than I can cope with. I’m one heartbeat away from jittery and my hands are starting to shake.
It’s now or never.
I quietly drop to one knee, my right hand retrieving the little velvet box from my pocket and gripping it tightly.
When I don’t answer, Kelsey turns around to find me and looks right over my head, not expecting me to be kneeling in front of her. It takes a comical second for her to figure out where I am and for it to register what I’m doing.
I can see the moment her brain catches up to what’s happening because her already wide, chocolate eyes almost bulge out of her head and her cheeks go an adorable shade of pink.
Opening the ring box (not that she so much as glances away from my face), I clear my throat and find my voice thicker with emotion than I thought it would be.
“I think it’s pretty obvious what I’m about to ask you, Baby Girl. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s as simple and beautiful as that. Will you marry me?”
Kelsey’s smile is the most gorgeous thing I will ever see and small tears pool on her lower lids, causing her warm brown eyes to glisten.
“Are you sure?” she stupidly asks. I love the woman, but really, that’s what she says first? I can’t help but laugh and roll my eyes.
“Do you think I would ask if I wasn’t sure?”
“No,” she answers instantly and with conviction.
“Then why ask?”
“Because we haven’t been together for very long and your divorce was only just finalized.”
“Do either of those things change how we feel about each other?”
“No.”
“So then tell me the answer you’d like to give…because my knee is starting to ache,” I joke.
“Yes! Of course, I’d love to marry you!” She answers immediately.
Adrenaline bursts through my body like an explosion and I quickly stand, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her deeply, the ring in my hand still not getting any attention.
When we come up for air and I manage to tear my lips from hers, I shove the ring under her nose and force her to look at it. I’m eager for her to see it as I had no help from her mom or Lucy when I picked it out – it was all me and there’s a small part of me that’s worried she won’t like it.
Kelsey gently takes the box from me and admires the twinkling diamond ring that will hopefully sit on her finger for the rest of her life. It’s a simple but elegant solitaire because Kelsey doesn’t do ostentatious. The diamond is a little bigger than she would have picked for herself but she’ll just have to make her peace with it, just like she will have to accept a comfortable life with a few luxuries thrown in if she’s with me.
“It’s beautiful, Mason, thank you.”
“It should fit because I sized it from a ring in your jewelry box.”
“Sneaky,” she grins.
I slip the ring on her finger and the fit is perfect; the diamond glistens in the bright Las Vegas sunshine.
“I just want to say something, Kelsey, to put your mind at ease. The date my divorce was finalized is irrelevant when it comes to my feelings for you and how much I love you. The only bearing it had, was that it was preventing me from marrying you. And no, we haven’t been together for only a short time, and even if we had, time doesn’t affect the depth of feelings we feel for each other. Just like the age difference doesn’t impact our relationship. If you are worried that people think we rushed into a Vegas marriage, I fell in love with you on our first date and that was over eighteen months ago; that’s not rushing.”
“You’re right. None of those things change how much I want to be your wife,” she smiles broadly, then her mind catches up with what I said. “Hang on, Vegas wedding?”
“Well we’ve established that time is irrelevant when it comes to love. You want to be my wife, I’m desperate to be your husband, so let’s do it. Today.” I smile my most charming smile, knowing what she’ll say next.
“You want us to have a Vegas wedding? Today? No family or friends. A literal elopement wedding? I’m not sure, Mason.”
“No one will judge
us, Kelsey. Because the people who matter are here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I might have picked the ring out on my own, but I had help with everything else.”
“Everything else?”
“Why do you think I booked a three-bedroom suite?” I tease, dragging out her confusion a little longer to make the surprise bigger. I nod my head to indicate she should look behind her.
Kelsey glances towards the door to the suite and almost bursts into tears when she sees her parents, Lucy and Max, Xan and his family, and Teddy all stood there with champagne flutes in their hands raising a toast to us.
I would never deprive her of having her best friend and family at her wedding. They all came through for us and today, we’re getting married.
Chapter Twenty
Kelsey
I can’t believe how my day is turning out.
I thought the highlight would be the view from my unexpected room upgrade. Then I thought it was going to be getting proposed to – I didn’t mean to stupidly ask if he was sure; I was just so desperate to say yes that it sort of slipped out.
Now I have my parents, Lucy, Max, Xan and his girlfriend Marlowe, and Teddy all congratulating me, hugging me, and dragging me into the suite to get me ready because I. AM. GETTING. MARRIED. TODAY.
I did not see that coming.
My brain frantically tries to catch up to what’s going on around me but it’s all an excitable blur; anticipation and adrenaline making it hard to focus.
I hear Max tell me that Mason asked my father for permission and that they were all in on the surprise from the start. Mom tells me that she and Lucy have been in constant communication with Mason to get everything organized in a way that I’ll hopefully love.
These people…they are amazing!
I can’t believe what they’ve all be doing for me.
Even Teddy, who I’ve not known for long but has become a fast and awesome friend and not just a boss, has used her exceptional organizational skills to help make today a reality.
They lead me into the master bedroom where Lucy opens an ivory garment bag with a flourish.
“Do you like it?” she asks nervously. “Your mom and I were torn between two dresses and I just went with my gut, but now I’m terrified you’ll hate it.”
I look at the elegant ivory, strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, soft tulle skirt with a delicate satin belt, and dotted with pastel lace embroidered flowers. It’s ethereal, delicate, and looks like spring…I love it. So much.
“It’s stunning,” I say, trying not to cry (to be fair, I’ve been trying not to cry since I saw Mason on one knee).
“Thank fuck for that,” Lucy says, then glancing at my mom, “Sorry, Mrs. H.”
Mom just laughs. “You think I haven’t heard you girls say worse over the years?”
“It’s perfect, you guys. I couldn’t have picked a more beautiful dress, thank you.”
“We’ve arranged flowers to match the dress and have people to do your hair and make-up,” Teddy says, handing me a glass of champagne and ushering me over to a chair where two women are waiting to turn me into a bride.
“We have an hour and a half before the ceremony, so let’s get ready,” mom says.
* * *
Eighty minutes later and I look the most beautiful I’ve ever been or will be. The dress fits perfectly thanks to Lucy knowing most of my measurements and the fact the dress is A-line, so it only really had to fit snugly around my breasts and waist. The built-in corset helps on that front.
My make-up is subtle yet radiant and my hair is pinned back from my face, flowing down my back in loose waves and completed with a delicate band of embroidered flowers that matches my dress.
Lucy hands me a beautiful bouquet of pale spring flowers and we head out of the suite, the men nowhere to be seen, where we’re met by the concierge who escorts us to a spectacular function room overlooking the Strip and nearby mountains.
The room must be ours for the day because I catch sight of a banquet table decorated to perfection with white linen, pastel-colored candles and flowers, and a two-tier wedding cake – also decorated with pastel flowers. But my attention is quickly diverted to the man in a sharply fitted tux standing in front of the officiant on the other side of the room.
Too damn swoon-worthy for his own good.
Lucy walks down the aisle before me and when she reaches the front, I make the short walk with my dad’s arm linked with mine. I glance at him quickly and see him smiling proudly, trying to hold back a tear. I’m so glad he’s here and giving me away on my wedding day; I’ll be forever grateful to Mason for not suggesting we do this without some of our friends and family here. As I look around the room at everything my fiancé accomplished, his busyness and exhaustion of the past few weeks suddenly make sense. He’s worked himself to almost sleep-deprived proportions to give me the wedding of my dreams. I wouldn’t have thought to plan it the way he has but it’s better for it. It means so much more because he planned everything with my family and best friend for me.
I look at him now, smiling that smile that makes me weak in the knees, refusing to tear his gaze away from me, his blazing hazel eyes drinking in my appearance in a way that tells me he’s not peeked at the dress; it’s as much a surprise to him as it is to me.
When I reach Mason’s side, dad places my hands in his and steps back to stand with mom. Mason’s thumbs stroke the tops of my hands and the world melts away until it’s only him and me. The most handsome man in the world, the man I love beyond compare, the one I thought I’d lost forever, is smiling at me and mouthing the words ‘I love you’ while the officiant addresses our small congregation.
I barely register what’s being said as I inhabit our little bubble of love; somehow, I say the right words when I’m supposed to and quicker than I imagined, we’re declared husband and wife and Mason’s lips are on mine, devouring and teasing while our friends and my parents cheer on.
“I love you so fucking much, Kelsey Fox,” he whispers in my ear.
“I love you too, Mason Fox.”
* * *
We eat, dance, and enjoy ourselves with our nearest and dearest all afternoon until Mason excuses us to have some photographs with the hotel photographer.
The concierge grins knowingly at Mason as we exit the function room and head for the elevator.
“What was that about?” I ask, bemused.
“The photographer isn’t waiting for us, not for another half hour.”
It takes me a moment to catch his drift – I blame the few glasses of champagne I may have ingested – and it’s only when the elevator opens and I see we’re back outside our suite that it makes sense.
“Oh.”
“The only downside to booking a three-bedroom room suite is that your parents and Max and Lucy are sharing it with us, and that means if they’re around, I can’t make my new wife scream in ecstasy when we consummate our marriage,” he winks.
Instantly, the scrap of lace that constitutes as wedding lingerie grows damp with arousal.
How can I be so needy for him with only a look and more importantly, can I survive life with him where I’m perpetually on some elevated level of lust and need? Surely there are health concerns if I’m always wet for him; like dehydration.
“We don’t have long, Baby Girl, but you can be as loud as you want,” he growls, picking me up and holding me with my legs wrapped around his waist. Even with all the tulle, I can feel his erection pressing against my mound. I give a little wiggle so that he is rubbing me in just the right spot and it feels oh so good.
“Impatient?” he chuckles.
“Less talking, more kissing please,” I answer, and Mason obliges, dipping his tongue deep into my mouth, hot, needy, and probing.
I all but melt into a puddle of desire, kissing him furiously back and digging my fingers into the solid muscle of his shoulders.
Mason grips my thighs tightly, his hands large enough that they curv
e around to skim the swell of my ass, and pulls me tighter against him, rubbing his length along my increasingly wet panties.
We don’t make it very far into the room before Mason changes direction and walks us towards a dark mahogany side table and sits me on it, his hands delving through the layers of tulle until he finds my soaking lingerie, eases them to one side, and sinks a thick digit through my swollen folds and deep into my sensitive pussy.
“I’m going to fuck you in this dress because we both need it, Baby Girl. And only once you’ve coated my dick with your cum will I lay you down and make love to you until you come again, trembling in my arms.”
“Yes,” I beg as his finger pumps faster and faster into me until I can hear the wetness over the sound of my frantic heartbeat.
“You’re going to come quickly for me aren’t you, Baby Girl,” it’s not a question.
“Yes,” I cry as my climax begins to build.
“Good girl,” he says, withdrawing his fingers before he tips me over the edge. He sucks my arousal off his finger as I whimper in distress, my orgasm simmering just out of reach.
I hear the zip on his pants, feel his hand between the cradle of my thighs, and then the hot, hard head of his thick cock brushing up and down my folds, coating his dick with my desire. Then, just as suddenly as his finger was snatched away from me, he thrusts himself deep inside me, making me cry out as the air leaves my lungs.
He slides slowly and temptingly in and out of me a few times, making my body mindless with pleasure before he begins fucking me in earnest with his substantial cock.
Neither of us can be quiet as he drives thrust after punishing thrust quickly into soaking pussy, holding my hips and pulling me down his length on every stroke. My wetness drips out of me, coating him and the table beneath my ass every time he impales me. For a second, I’m conscious we’re both still dressed in our wedding finery and that maybe it isn’t the wisest of ideas to cover our clothes with the potent smell of sex and my pussy. But then I hear the wet slapping sound as he fucks me frantically, the pleasant burn of his cock stretching me and the orgasm beginning to build again and I don’t care about the clothes, our guests waiting for us, or the impending photoshoot. All I want is my husband.
