by Nikki Chase
“Oh my god, stop talking already,” I cut him off. “Yes, Rafe. That's my answer. I’ll marry you. Now put that damn ring on my finger.”
We both grin at each other as he slips the ring on my finger for the second time. An old piece of jewelry for a new commitment.
“I love the ring. I can't believe you’ve been keeping it this whole time.”
“What? Of course I’ve been keeping it,” he says as he gets up and pulls me into his arms. He gently strokes my hair. “I’ve always planned to propose to you with this ring, in this room. I’ve always wanted to use this same ring to mark you as mine.”
“Even when I moved out without telling you? When I gave the ring back to you?” I lean against his chest.
“Especially then,” he says, his vocal cords vibrating against my cheek as he speaks. “I promise I’ll do my best to make you happy, princess.”
“I’m already happy.”
“I know. Me, too.”
Extended Epilogue
Piper—One and a Half Years Later
“Rafe? You’re not supposed to be here,” I whisper in the dark, half-asleep.
“Are you scared we’d get into trouble?” Raphael whispers back as he gets into bed. The mattress dips under his weight.
I can’t believe he’s doing this, but I have to laugh. “What? We’re not kids, Rafe.”
“Obviously,” he says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He moves one hand up to my tits, while his other one travels down to my thighs. “No kid would have a body like this.”
“Rafe, I’m serious.” My voice sounds unconvincing, even to myself. “You really should…” My sentence hangs in the air as I bite my bottom lip, trying to stifle a moan. Raphael is kissing the back of my neck, and it's starting to feel really good. I’m starting to want him to stay, too.
“What, what should I do, princess? Tell me.” He pinches my nipple through the thin cotton of my old shirt, while rubbing my clit over my panties.
“You should leave,” I sigh, even as my fingers dig into his arms, not letting go. The moonlight streams through the slats of the bamboo blinds and hits the stone of my engagement ring just right, making it shine.
It's a warm night, and I'm always dressed light for sleep on a night like this. I’m only wearing an old shirt and panties.
After one year of living together, Raphael knows this. He also know exactly how to get me into the mood. I squirm as he teases me with light kisses all over my neck and shoulders.
“Why? Nobody's stopping us,” Raphael says.
“That's because nobody knows you're here,” I manage to say between hitched gasps.
“You don't think they'd just find it adorable that we still can't keep our hands off each other?”
“That's not the point.” I moan, revealing my true desires. “It's bad luck.”
“But you're mine. These are mine,” he says as he grabs my tits and my pussy to make his point. “Nobody is going to keep me away from you.”
“But you’re not supposed to see me tonight.”
“No, that's where you're wrong. I'm not supposed to see you in your dress. But you're not in your dress, are you?” Raphael slips his hand into my panties and run his fingers along my wet folds.
Damn it. Now he knows how wet I’m already getting. He's not going to leave me alone now.
Don't get me wrong; I love how much Raphael still lusts after me. That flame in his eyes still ignites for me, and it makes me feel wanted, craved, desired--makes me feel like a woman.
But we're getting married tomorrow. Does he really need to do this now?
“Shit,” Raphael curses.
“Huh? What’s wrong?”
“Your shirt. It’s pretty long, princess. I’d say it could be mistaken for a dress,” he says. “We should get it off you before we get cursed with bad luck.” Raphael pulls my shirt up and caresses my tits.
Without even thinking, I arch my back, pushing my tits forward into his big hands and pressing my hips against him. Against his thick, hot, rock-hard cock.
I’m a goner.
I lift my hands up and let Raphael take my shirt off all the way, sighing and moaning, no longer trying to hide or deny my arousal. I gasp when he pushes two fingers inside me, removing my panties with his other hand.
“You like that, princess?”
“Yeah,” I say. There's no stopping this now. I'm already naked and wet, yearning to be filled up by the cock poking into my ass.
“Yeah, I can feel your pussy grabbing onto my fingers.” He rubs my clit as he continues to pump in and out of me.
It sounds wet. I hope nobody happens to pass by the door and hear these obscene noises.
“You ready for my cock, princess?” Raphael asks as he thrusts his cock forward, making me wish he’s already inside me. His fingers are no longer enough.
“Y—yeah,” I moan.
“I know. I can tell,” he whispers as he nibbles on my ear lobe. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
Raphael pulls out his fingers, making me whimper. It suddenly feels so empty inside me.
He quickly yanks off his own clothes and gets back behind me. His skin feels hot and smooth, his body hard and unyielding.
“Fuck me, Rafe,” I moan, knowing how much he loves it when I lose control and beg him. “Please.”
“Of course I’ll fuck you. This hard-on isn't going to go away on its own,” he says as he pushes his cock against my opening. Damn, he’s really hard.
I stick my ass back to give him a deeper angle. He slides all the way in, then he slaps my ass cheek and grabs it.
“You're so fucking sexy, princess. I can't believe I’ll get to fuck you for the rest of my life. I can't believe this is all mine.”
I want to tell him I feel just as lucky, because he’s responsible for many earth-shattering moments in my life. But instead, I grip the bed sheets and bite my bottom lip, unable to do anything but hold on. My body is already starting to tremble from the arousal building up within me.
So I reach one hand behind me and grab his ass. My nails dig into his perky cheek as I pull him close, wordlessly begging him to fuck me harder.
He obliges. He puts one hand over my waist and pulls me onto him.
“Come for me, princess,” Raphael growls into my ear as he pulls me by the hair.. “Cream yourself all over my cock.”
I cry out when he starts to play with my clit, sending me over the edge. Electricity crackles throughout my body. Sparks snap at the tips of my fingers and toes. The charge in my core grows as Raphael fucks me with abandon, doing me hard and fast. I feel him grow slightly harder, and we both explode together.
My whole body quivers in Raphael's arms. I throw my head back onto his bare, brawny chest. He continues to pump into me a few times, until he has shot every last drop inside me.
“Aren't you glad you let me stay?” Raphael asks, teasing me.
“Yeah,” I say, as if I ever stood a chance against him. I’ve never been any good at telling him no. I add, “That was amazing, Rafe.”
“I’d better leave before someone finds us,” Rafe grins. He plants a chaste kiss on my temple, even as his cock remains buried inside me. “Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. And then nobody would be able to keep us apart again. No man, woman, or silly superstition.”
He leaves just as quickly as he entered.
I lie alone on the bed, naked. It's like he was never here, like he was just a figment of my imagination. The only evidence of him ever being here is the warm liquid dripping out of me.
Déjà vu.
I feel like I’ve seen this scene before, a million times, in my mind.
Sunshine filters through the stained glass windows of the church, casting splotches of color on the old wooden floor. I see yellow, red, and green on the aisle.
I hold on to Dad’s arm as we make our way toward the altar, the train of my white lace dress dragging over the floor.
Dad and I are getting along so much better, now th
at he's gotten his act together. He's too scared of losing the house again to half-ass his job now.
I like this new, improved Dad. I just wish Mom were alive to see him. She would've wanted to be here, too, to see me get married to the love of my life.
I swallow to push down the lump in my throat. I can’t cry now, not with so many eyes on me.
I look up to see Raphael—my rock.
He's standing tall beside the minister, giving me his usual wicked grin. He looks impatient, but I can't walk any faster with the slow tempo of the old church organ, not to mention the high heels.
Eventually, I reach the end of the aisle. I thank my dad and let go of his arm.
The corners of my lips curl up to form a big smile as I put both my hands on Raphael's.
Knowing him, he must be uncomfortable in his three-piece suit, but he doesn't seem to care. He's got his eyes on me and he's no longer paying attention to his surroundings.
The priest speaks with a thick French accent.
I'm not going to complain, though. It's hard enough to find a church that looks photogenic enough to suit Raphael's family’s tastes and whose priest could conduct a wedding ceremony in English.
Luckily, Diana’s wedding planner managed to find everything on their checklist. She's a godsend; somehow she has managed to wrangle all eighty of our guests into various private and commercial flights to Paris, and herd them into their rooms at the mansion.
Marie has also been amazing at accommodating everyone. She seems excited about hosting such a big event, and I’m sure Elise and Diana have given her a long checklist to go through, as well.
As for me, I only have one thing on my checklist: the man standing in front of me, the one staring at me with love and devotion.
He repeats the words the minister says, but they mean so much more coming from his mouth.
“I, Raphael Holt, take you, Piper Ford, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”
Tears already prick my eyes as I listen to Raphael's vows.
I guess it's acceptable to cry in public on my own wedding day, but I was hoping I’d be able to maintain my composure.
Now, I know I should abandon all hope. My voice is cracking already as I begin to repeat the traditional vows.
“I, Piper Ford, take you, Raphael Holt, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse…”
I try to speed through the words before I start tearing up, but I can't hold it back anymore. My vision blurs and, the next thing I know, tears are streaming down my face.
I pause for a few seconds while I find my voice, before I pick up where I left off.
“...for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”
I look up into Raphael's brilliant green eyes for strength, and find complete acceptance there. He doesn't care if I’m crying or if my make-up is running. All that matters is we’ll always be together from today onward.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the minister says.
Raphael lifts my veil and whispers, “Hey, it's been a while since I last saw you.”
I giggle, remembering how he slipped into my room last night. I hope we'll always be this playful and happy around each other. I hope we'll never get enough of each other.
In front of all our loved ones, we seal our union as Raphael kisses my smile.
Life will never get boring with him by my side.
Thank you for reading!
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Preview: My Brother’s Best Friend
Prologue
“So you decided to give me your virginity based on some gossip?”
“Well, no, I thought I was just going to talk to you, but then… Then it turned into something else.” I bite my bottom lip and look up at him from under my eyelashes, hoping we can end this conversation and just get back to fucking.
I don’t need things to get any more intense emotionally. But my body can take anything he gives me.
A smile spreads across Gabe's cheeks. “I see. You just couldn't resist me, huh?”
“Yeah.” I return his smile.
Just as I’d hoped, Gabe pulls me into his arms and gives me a passionate kiss. I fight the urge to melt into his arms and give into his lips.
Instead, I turn around to face the ocean and rub the front of Gabe’s pants with my palm. He’s already hard.
I look back at him over my shoulder, maintaining eye contact as I slide my panties down my legs and step out of them.
I raise my hand behind me, place it behind his neck, and pull him close. I stick my ass out until I feel his hard-on.
As I let out a small moan, Gabe flips up the back of my skirt.
“You're wet, angel,” he says in a hoarse voice as he runs his fingers over my pussy lips.
“Yeah. I’m ready for you.” I grind my ass back against Gabe.
I hear his groan and the sound of his fly being unzipped, and I know I’ve won this round.
“Fuck me,” I whisper as he spears into me. I hold on to the rough stone of the balustrade and look out into the ocean.
I’m glad he can't see my face right now, because a tear has just escaped my right eye. It dries quickly in the cool breeze.
I need Gabe to fuck the pain out of my heart, until all I can feel is the pain he inflicts on my body, and the pleasure that's bound to follow.
“Hurt me,” I whisper, and he does.
He pinches my nipple and bites the back of my neck until I sigh and whimper.
This hurts so good.
Jacqueline
“Come on in,” I hear Mom’s voice filter through my bedroom door, “it’s my son’s birthday.”
Oh, no.
Is Mom roping yet another innocent guy into her weird birthday bit?
This used to be embarrassing, but now it’s just sad and exhausting.
I’d go out and give that guy a helping hand, but I’m kind of busy right now, and I’m running late.
I glare at my hair in the mirror. Why won’t you curl like I want you to?
My arms are already getting tired from holding my hair up, curling it, and sticking one hairpin after another into it. And I still have another section to get through.
But I can’t just stop now. I’d draw too much attention—in the wrong way—if I were to show up with 75% of my hair in an elegant updo and the remaining 25% falling stick straight the way it usually does.
I mean, Karen and I aren’t supposed be there in the first place.
We’re taking her parents’ spots so it’s not like we’re crashing the party, but we have a long day at the hospital tomorrow and we really should be having an early night. We’d get lots of frowns if we’re spotted by one of the residency directors, who will definitely be there.
I really shouldn’t go. If I start partying and staying out late now, in the first month of my medical residency, what’s next? Before I know it, I’ll be missing my shifts, getting fired, and joining the throngs of millennials all over the country who can’t find jobs.
At least one person in the house should have her shit together.
With my hair finally done, I grab my purse and take one last look at myself in the mirror.
Even though my arms are a little sore, I now have a loose bun of blonde hair on the top of my head and soft, wavy tendrils framing my face.
I really didn’t want to put so much work into my hair, but it’s the hairstyle that looks best on me. I’ve tried different options: the big, glamorous,
Hollywood waves; the simple French twist; the stern, tight bun. I watched so many YouTube tutorials to get my hair just right.
The bright scarlet of my classy fit-and-flare dress contrasts nicely against my blue eyes. A string of pearls hangs just above my cleavage, and a black satin ribbon bow covers the clasp closure on the back of my neck.
Keeping my eyes on the mirror, I slip my feet into a pair of black velvet pumps.
That completes the look. The look that I’ve been putting together the whole month.
I have to work with what I’ve got, but I think I look pretty good, if I may say so myself. I need all the confidence boosters I can get if I’m going to see him.
Gabriel Kent.
Gabe.
Beautiful, strong, sensitive Gabe.
Sometimes, I call him “babe” in my head, ever since I overheard a couple calling each other by that pet name when I was ten.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the winner of the Award for Excellence in Medicine this year. I didn’t even know Gabe was back in town. But that’s exactly why I’ve chosen to intern at Hill Crest Hospital–so at least I’d be close to his dad and get the latest info on him.
Okay, I realize I’m starting to sound like a crazy stalker here, so I should probably also add that it’s a good hospital and there’s a lot of competition for the handful of internship positions available. So it’s not like I’m sacrificing my career for my Gabe obsession.
“Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you…” The song floats up from downstairs.
Oh God, I feel so bad for my mom’s latest victim.
Okay, it’s time to go and save someone now.
I’m as ready as I can be anyway.
I step down the stairs, grabbing the railing for balance. I’m not used to wearing heels.
