Check Yes Juliet

by CL Rowell

  “Pants?” Mom obliged her by looking suitably appalled. “Are pants really appropriate for a wedding, though?”

  “Oh, yes,” she assured her, “it’s a big thing, now. You can find them in skinny leg, wide leg, or even bellbottom versions.”

  “But…what would people think, dear?”

  “Well, it’s only going to be close friends and family, so I’m sure they’ll think my happiness is what matters.”

  Giving up on Juliet for the moment, Mom turns to me, “You can’t be serious about this close friends and family stuff, Geoff. There are important people who will feel understandably snubbed if they don’t receive an invitation to your wedding. It could harm you father’s and my standing in our social circle. Please talk to her—talk some sense into her—explain how things work in our income bracket—”

  “Excuse me?” My heart nosedived to my feet when I heard the hurt and anger in Juliet’s voice. “Are you insinuating that I can’t understand what it’s like to be in your shoes because I’m not rich?”

  “Juliet—” I covered her trembling hand with mine.

  “No,” she jerked her hand back as tears filled her eyes. “She stepped out of line by trying to make this about her and how she’ll appear to others. This is our wedding day, not hers. If we want a small wedding, it’s our choice. I’ll wait for you at the car. I’m ready to go home, now.”

  “Juliet, wait.”

  She shook her head. “If you aren’t out there within five minutes, I’m walking.”

  I stood to follow her, shooting my unapologetic mother a dirty look. “I can’t believe you said that. You hurt her feelings!”

  “Well, it can’t be helped. You know I’m right—talk some sense into her. Meanwhile, I’ll continue planning the wedding, so we’ll be prepared for your big day.”

  “It isn’t yours to plan.”

  “Don’t tell me what is and isn’t mine to plan. Someone has to do it and she’s clearly too emotional to think clearly. Do you want to wait five more years for your inheritance?”

  Too pissed off to formulate an answer that wouldn’t get me in trouble, I turned and headed for the front of the house, ignoring her loud demands for a response. I slammed the front door on my way out and said nothing as I let Juliet in the car and stalked to the other side.

  “Are you too terribly angry with me?” she whispered, staring at the floor between her feet.

  “No,” I stabbed the ignition with the key and twisted forcefully, coming close to breaking it off inside. “I’m pissed at my mother. I can’t believe her gall. She had the audacity to tell me she would continue to plan our wedding while I talked some sense into you—as if she didn’t even realize she was the one in the wrong.”

  “What if she isn’t wrong? She is offering to pay for everything. Maybe she should have a say in the guest list—”

  “No,” I shook my head. “Your parents wouldn’t act that way in her shoes.”

  She snuggled closer, leaning over the gap between the seats to lay her head on my shoulder. “My parents would tell us we could use their backyard but point out how they couldn’t afford to foot the bill for an expensive wedding and reception—but then, you have to look at who they are. They ran off to Vegas and eloped, avoiding all of the stress planning their own wedding would have entailed, too.”

  Vegas. I remained mostly silent all the way to my place, responding in grunts and single syllable replies as I thought about what she’d said. It was undeniable, though, no matter how I looked at it—Vegas would solve the majority of our issues. Pulling into the drive, I announced, “We should take a page from your parents’ book and elope in Vegas.”

  “I was wondering why you were so quiet.” She sat up, blinking, and looked around. “I damn near fell asleep. Why are we here?”

  “Because I didn’t want to end the night on a sour note.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Juliet

  ∞∞∞

  I followed him out of the car and into his kitchen. “Your mother might not forgive us if we eloped.”

  “Eh, she’d get over it.”

  I crossed my arms beneath my breasts and tried to raise one eyebrow but gave up and settled for raising them both. “Are we talking about the same woman?”

  “Don’t be mean. She can be pushy at times, but she has a good heart.”

  I shoved my fingers through my hair, feeling the rebuke in his words like an arrow through my heart. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That was bitchy even for me, wasn’t it?” He put an index finger on the tip of his nose and pointed the other one at me, making me giggle. “What’s that for?”

  “Cuz you said it, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did. I can admit when I’m wrong, you know.”

  “Yes, I do.” He snagged my arm and pulled me close, looping his arms around my waist and burying his nose in my hair. I groaned silently as the move enveloped me in the tantalizing scent of warm male and Polo cologne as my nose pressed against his chest. “Would you rather wrestle with her over everything and end up doing things her way in the end anyway, because she rolls right over everything we say—or would you rather we sneak off and elope, ending the argument once and for all?”

  “The eloping thing does have its appeal,” I muttered against him. “I just don’t know when we’d have the opportunity between now and the weekend before Christmas.”

  “What about next weekend?”

  I pulled back as far as his arms would let me, gaping at him, “Thanksgiving Day weekend?”

  He shrugged, “Why not? We could fly out Friday and return on Sunday. It’s early enough that Mom can’t make too much headway with her wedding plans, giving her less reason to bitch about it.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’ll find plenty of reasons to complain.” I relaxed against his warmth again.

  “You’re probably right.” The vibrations of his voice tickled my ear where it pressed against his chest.

  I yawned, nearly dislocating my jaw as I did. At first, I wondered why I was so tired in the middle of the afternoon, but then I remembered how little sleep we got the previous night. I pushed against his chest with a sigh of reluctance and stepped back. “I should have just had you bring me to my dorm room. It’s been a very long day already. I’m dead on my feet.”

  “Why don’t you sleep over? I can toss your clothes in the washer and dryer before bed.”

  “Because you never got a chance to replace your mattress.”

  “Eww, yeah, I forgot about that. Let’s go rectify that problem right now.”

  “On a Sunday, in the afternoon, in a Mustang? Uh huh.” I snorted, letting him know what I thought of that idea.

  “Oh, ye of little faith—what are you waiting for? Come on, let’s go?”

  We ended up at Haverty’s, where he insisted on purchasing something called a Silver Chill mattress. It was a grey and black hybrid by Sealy that I accused him of choosing because it matched the colors in his bedroom. He didn’t deny it.

  “How are you going to get it back to your condo, genius?”

  He looked at the sales guy. “I’ll buy it and pay an extra five hundred dollars to the delivery guy for delivery if you have someone on premises that can deliver it right now.”

  “Our delivery guys aren’t here, today—”

  “I knew it,” I crowed. “What you gonna do, now?”

  “But, hang on,” the salesman held up a finger. “Let me check something right quick. Don’t go anywhere.” We watched as he approached another gentleman and spoke for several minutes, his hands waving eloquently with his words. I didn’t know what he said but I saw the other guy glance over at us and nod before he headed back in our direction.

  I peeked at Geoff out of the corner of my eye. “I wonder what that was all about.”

  “I dunno, but I suspect we’re fixing to find out.”

  You don’t say. I restrained my inner sarcasm goddess—as well as the urge to kick him for his smug and overt obviousness—and turned
to face the salesman with a noncommittal smile. A tiny smidgen of evil in my ever so slightly vindictive brain whispered the hope that the guy would say he couldn’t get it delivered until the next day. The rest of me, horrified that any part of me would wish for something like that, sent up prayers that he’d get his bed that afternoon.

  “I wasn’t lying to you—we don’t have a delivery person here, todayt. However, my manager gave me the okay to follow you in my own personal vehicle if you’re cool with helping me load and unload it.”

  He nodded, “That’s fine.”

  “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to haul away your old mattress because I have to get right back as soon as we’re done. I hope that won’t be an issue?”

  “It won’t.” Geoff stuck out his hand. “Let’s go ring this thing up and get it loaded up. I don’t live very far away so you’ll be back at the store in no time.”

  The sales guy nodded and led the way. Forty-five minutes later we were waving from the front door as he drove away, five hundred dollars richer for less than an hour of work.

  I followed him back to the upstairs hallway, undeniably curious. “What are you going to do with the old mattress?”

  “I’m gonna take it to the dumpster and let the garbage guys haul it away.”

  “What about the spot in the middle? Aren’t you afraid it’ll draw attention? Someone could call the cops.”

  “It really isn’t that big, you know. Aside from a few smears here and there from us rolling around the bed, I can cover the worst of it with my hand. Aren’t you overreacting just a touch?”

  I jammed my fists against the curves of my hips. “If it’s not that bad then why did you go to all the trouble of buying a new mattress, hmm?”

  “For the same reason I bought that one after Mom’s Dachshund, Herbie, peed on my old one—it can be cleaned and deodorized but it will never be the same.”

  “Herbie peed on your bed?” I snickered. “That’s funny; I don’t care who you are.”

  “Now, it’s funny,” he agrees, “but when it happened, I was pretty pissed off.”

  “Better to be pissed off than pissed on,” I teased.

  “And it’s even better to be neither. You going to help me maneuver that other mattress downstairs and into the garage?”

  “Of course, even though I can’t believe you’re just throwing it away.”

  “You can’t? Why not?”

  “Dude…I gave you my virginity on that mattress.”

  Consternation filled his face. “I don’t have to throw it away if it means that much to you. I can leave it where it is and put the new one on top of it—”

  “OMG! You are so gullible.” I collapsed against the new mattress, giggling. “I was fucking with you and you totally fell for it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Geoff

  ∞∞∞

  I lost several minutes just standing there staring at her as she laughed but I couldn’t help it. She was always beautiful but when she laughed, she was breathtaking. Her unabashed joy in the smallest things made her eyes sparkle brighter than the ring on her finger. My heart melted.

  “Geoff, are you okay?” She studied me, concern smothering the sparkle in those blue-green orbs. “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. I was just messing with you.”

  “I know,” I caressed her jawline with the edges of my knuckles. “I was serious, though. I’ll keep it if you want me to.”

  “Not necessary. I do want to spray some stain remover on it or rub it with a stain stick before we toss it out, though.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “But what if we remove the stain and someone claims it?”

  “What if they do?” She shrugged, not caring. “If the spot is faded or gone and they need a mattress, more power to them.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Fine, whatever—I’ll grab the stain remover from the laundry room. You want something to drink while I’m down there?”

  “Why don’t we move it to the garage first and then get something to drink and smear stain remover on the mattress out there? You don’t want that stuff smeared all over the walls, the banister, and the door to the garage, do you? Bleach bleaches, you know.”

  “Anyone ever told you that you’re extremely logical?” I opened the door to my bedroom and proceeded across the room where I slid the mattress off the bed and stood it on its side.

  “On occasion.” She followed me and took a position on the opposite end. As I watched, she frowned and moved closer to that side.

  “What is it?” I looked at the material, trying to see what she saw. I felt clueless. “Did some get up there, too?”

  “Nope,” she shook her head. “Did you know that there’s a mattress cover on this bed?”

  “There is?” I thought back and laughed. “Oh, yeah, there is. I bought it when I got the mattress so Herbie couldn’t ruin this one, too. I totally forgot about that.”

  “So, you didn’t actually have to buy another mattress after all. Underneath this cover, yours is perfectly fine. They might let you return the new one if you ask.”

  “But I don’t want to return the new one. I like it.”

  “So, you’re just going to throw away a perfectly good mattress?”

  “Nope,” I unzipped the protective cover and stripped it off. “I’m going to put it in the guest bedroom.”

  “At least you’re finally putting a bed in there. What are you going to do with the exercise equipment that’s in there?”

  “Just move it around. I’ll get a second bed frame, put the mattress on it, and stick it in the far corner by the windows. There will still be plenty of room for the elliptical trainer, the rowing machine, the weights, and the Bowflex—”

  “The elliptical trainer, rowing machine, and Bowflex that you never use?”

  “I use them…”

  “When?” her tone was pure challenge because she knew exactly how often I used them.

  “Sometimes…”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right,” she snapped her fingers. “Now I remember—you use them for three whole days, the first week after New Year’s, just so you can say you started working out.”

  “Don’t be hating because I’m naturally slender.”

  She froze. “Did you just call me fat?”

  “Don’t even try to start that shit. You know your body is perfect. I think your curves are sexy as fuck.”

  “Well, I know you say you do, but you’re my friend—you’re supposed to have my back.”

  I backed her up against the wall, letting the mattress collapse against the bed frame again. Practically nose to nose, I whispered, “Did I act like I was just saying the words when I was devouring that pussy last night?”

  Her eyes grew wider, “N-n-no.” She swallowed hard enough that I heard it.

  I dragged my nose up the side of her neck from her collarbone to her ear. I sucked on her earlobe and hissed, “What about when I stuffed that virgin pussy full of hard cock—did I give you the impression that I thought you were anything other than hot as fuck at that point?”

  “N-no.” She shook her head as her chest heaved under labored breaths.

  I grabbed her wrist and pressed the palm of her hand against the zipper of my pants where the hard bulge of my need for her lay hot and heavy, tenting the material. “What about this? Hmm? Does this feel like I think you’re anything other than desirable?” She shook her head and I shook mine in return, “I don’t think I caught your reply. Does it feel like I find you unattractive?”

  She closed her eyes and licked her lips. “No, it doesn’t.”

  I scraped my teeth across the skin of her throat. “I bet your panties are soaking wet right now, aren’t they?”

  She nodded, panting, “Yes.”

  “I bet I could bend you over this dresser, pull those pants down to your knees, and slide into home with one easy thrust…” I paused to nibble her earlobe, then added, “Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes,” the three-letter word stretched ou
t into at least seven or eight letters as she moaned her reply.

  “Do you want me to? Do you?” I tangled my fingers in her hair, tugging her head back and to the side, baring even more of her neck to my lips. “Would you like for me to spin you around, rip your pants down, kick your feet wider, and take you hard against the edge of this dresser while you watch your face in the mirror as you cum?”

  For a moment in time I thought I’d pushed her too far. As I waited for her to respond, I was already anticipating the sting of her palm against my cheek or the stabbing pain of her knee in my crotch. But then…

  “God, yes, Geoff! Yes!” Her blue-green eyes blazed with a need as powerful as my own as she unfastened the belt and button securing my pants and reached inside to wrap her fingers around my steely length. “Take me! I need you so bad right now.”

  I had no idea how things had gotten so out of control again. She seemed to know how to push my buttons without even trying. The last time it happened—holy hell, was it only the previous night—I lost control and hurt her. I didn’t want to hurt her again.

  I eased my fingers beneath the waistband of her leggings and her thong, carefully parting her slippery folds. “Are you still sore from last night?” I explored the cleft at the apex of her thighs, paying special attention to the pink pearl of her clit as I did.

  “Only a little.” Her hips humped my fingers, dancing with them in an age-old tango of passion. “Please, Geoff—I feel so empty it hurts. I need you inside me.”

  She was pumping my cock with purpose as her fingers tightened, gripping harder and nearly making me lose my mind.

  “If you don’t turn loose, I’m going to explode in your hand, baby,” I groaned, trying to think of anything else other than what she was doing to keep from blowing my load all over the inside of my pants and her hand. “Let go and turn to face the dresser.”