We Belong

by Evie Bennet

  “Fuck,” he hissed, slamming his palm against the building. “God, you’re so fucking good.” He buried me in praises and hair strokes as I pumped along.

  He was so thick, so hot and solid.

  “Get up, baby.”

  In a strange little shimmy, I let the caked dirt fall off my knees as he hooked his forearms under them and hoisted me against the wall, pinning me with his hips.

  “You good?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  My whole body was tingling.

  It was too much for him. It was so much fucking weight and responsibility. I shouldn’t—

  But then his length pushed into me and the doubt in my head was obliterated amidst that full, warm feeling. Being spread apart ignited my desire. Knowing that I’d made him so worked up, sweat dripping down his neck, his eyes gone black with need, made me clench around him, ready to take and give whatever he needed. Heavy, thumping heat urged us on.

  “Tell me that you need me,” he gritted out.

  “I need you, Reed.” The black bandana jumped on my chest with a harder thrust. “I do.”

  His arms trembled, his knees getting weak as his self-control unraveled.

  “Please give it to me, Reedsy. I want your come inside me. I want you,” I insisted, delicately framing his face with my hands, the tenderness urging him into my cunt so powerfully that I felt like I was being destroyed and created all at once.

  He slammed into me with the force of a hurricane, his whole body pushing harder into mine. I was so happy and full of him that I wasn’t even sure if I was coming again or just so mind-numbingly full of ecstasy I might as well have been.

  “I fucking love you,” he murmured, biting and kissing my shoulder and neck as he came down. The warm wetness soaking between us felt good. A balm. I kissed his face, kissed everything I could reach with that humming still buzzing in my veins until my feet were gently lowered to the ground and he pulled out of me.

  Although it was a little hard to walk when I was still fairly boneless in bliss, I wobbled back into my underwear, uncaring of the mess for the moment.

  “How are we gonna get home?” I asked, blinking blissfully at a still recovering, flushed Reed.

  “I kinda… I wanted to know if you wanted to do the rings tonight?”

  “Tonight?” I repeated, processing through the haze of dopamine in my brain. Then it hit me. “Tonight! Reedsy, we’re getting married tomorrow!”

  “Yeah, I know.” He laughed, carefully wiping off the back of my dress, as if to rid me of any indecency when all I felt was amazing. “The guys knew I wouldn’t exactly be into a dancer tonight, so I made Milo and Chewy stay sober enough that just in case you wanted to—”

  “Yes,” I declared, taking his hand. “I do.”

  17

  Tattoo

  The vibration of the buzzing ink pen hurt, but it was almost like whatever warm jelly was leftover in my body kept the pain on the surface. My eyes stung with tears. I laughed wetly and wiped them away before reclaiming Reed’s waiting hand.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I swear, it gets easier.”

  “You think she’ll get married more than once?” Milo jibed, glancing up from the cursive.

  “Shut up and do your work.”

  “You really ought to treat your best man a little better, Reed.”

  “I have a spare.”

  Chewy didn’t look up but grinned wildly at the mention.

  It was so nice. Family. Friends.

  I looked at my ring finger, now black with cursive, the skin lined with sensitive red, even if I couldn’t fully see Reed’s signature. With a deep sigh, I leaned back to rest my head, watching Reed in an attempt to distract myself from the pain associated with a very welcome and permanent change on my ring finger.

  “This counts as our wedding presents, by the way.” Chewy coughed.

  Giggling, I exchanged a glance with Reed. “I don’t think we need anything else.”

  “Besides a higher pain tolerance.” Milo shrugged. “Actually, never mind. I’m pretty sure you’ve got enough to handle a tat.” Reed glared at him and Chewy looked nervous. I wasn’t sure how much they knew about our sex life, but Milo seemed to stiffen at the response, nonetheless.

  Maybe they knew about the spanking. Reed probably wouldn’t, no, he definitely wouldn’t talk about my past.

  They had probably been told to be kind to me. That made sense.

  That’s all it seemed to be because after a moment, I smiled and Reed relaxed back into his chair. Maybe he really was Rattler royalty in addition to being a judge.

  “There’s nothing else you want?” Reed’s voice was so soft that I wanted to curl up in it and kiss his thumb as he ran it along the back of my hand.

  “Maybe the security footage from tonight’s reunion, but otherwise, no.” I beamed, squeezing his hand as pain and endorphins flared and faded in my brain.

  Narrowing his gaze, Reed thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay,” he repeated, studying every muscle movement on my face.

  I could just have it? He’d get it for me?

  Feeling flirty, I leaned over as much as I could to bat my eyelashes and smile at him. “Isn’t there anything you want? Maybe not tonight, but…”

  “Please don’t fuck in these chairs,” Milo pleaded, earning a kicked shin from Chewy.

  It didn’t bother me, though. I kept waiting for Reed’s reply, for the little smirk to recede as he would speak. “There is something I want. Only with you, obviously, and not right away, but eventually. If we both want them, that is.”

  Blinking, confused, I sat back as his friends studiously focused on our tattoos.

  Them? Was he talking about pets or children?

  The idea of carrying a piece of the two of us inside of me, tending to it, watching it grow and become its own independent person seemed impossible yet fascinating.

  I was too fucked up to have a baby. Maybe right now, I was. But with Reed and with some help…

  “I think I’d like that. Someday. With you.”

  I memorized the way his face lit up with hope and anticipation. We grinned so brightly that I moved with the instinct to kiss him. Milo and Chewy shouted, squeezing our wrists so we didn’t move.

  “Sit down! You two are ridiculous.”

  There was nothing embarrassing about being in love, especially not with Reed.

  It was natural, wonderful and inspiring.

  We still had time before the walk down the aisle. Emily looked fantastic, her bangs spiky and neat, but she gave them a prod as if to make sure they were going to stay in place.

  Wanting everything to look a little more put-together than usual was understandable. We were all going to be on camera and video. It wasn’t like we needed the best photographers, but we did want the ones who would get the best angles. Reed helped me navigate recommendations from the locals and I browsed profiles and begged for our favorites’ time. Maybe not so surprisingly, once Reed got involved, the vendors we wanted were all able to find covers for whatever other events they’d planned.

  Everyone we really wanted to be there was able to celebrate us.

  “It’s kind of funny,” I started, nervous and excited. “You met me when I was freaking out over my relationship in a bathroom, and yet a few weeks later we’re by the mirrors again and this time I’m about to walk down the aisle.”

  Swishing from the mirror, Emily offered me an easy smile. “It was totally meant to be. A miracle of friendship and love! Honestly, I’m just surprised you were able to convince Reed that Al should be at the wedding instead of catering it.”

  Shelly scoffed from her perch on the lounger.

  “You upset we won’t be having Al’s tonight?” I practically pranced over to flounce next to her, loving the way my skirt felt against my legs.

  “No. I just had to watch Reed and his goons inhale some for lunch. My brother might as well have burgers hooked up to an IV.”r />
  In a chorus of snorts and giggles, we bumped shoulders. Everything felt good. Happy.

  Like it should be.

  For a moment, it felt like I had a real sister again.

  The tiniest pang of wistfulness stirred under the rubble of my mind, so I smoothed my dress, scratching at the fresh words on my finger. I needed more of that Aquaphor healing ointment to protect it and let it heal.

  “Thank you both for being here. For being you.”

  “Of course!” Emily chirped.

  A group hug enveloped me. Shelly seemed slightly uncomfortable, but pleased, letting out a huffing laugh. I wanted a photo of this, surrounded by love, even if Reed wasn’t technically in the picture. His name would be.

  The girls were good sports about it, posing for a mirror selfie before resuming getting ready, whether by relaxing, reading, or resetting makeup.

  As I considered sending the pictures I took with Shelly to Reed, I perused through the photos he’d sent me. His eyes were so blue.

  My manicured nails ran lovingly across the screen to caress his face. Of course, the other parts of him showcased in the dressing process were fantastic, too. Half-undone formalwear on the hottest guy I’d ever met was doing all kinds of things to me. I didn’t want a red chest or face in my pictures, so I closed the app. I’d sent him plenty of heart emojis throughout the day and I needed to focus on being in the right state of mind to remember everything clearly. It’d be harder to do that if I was high on endorphins and dazed, barely able to think about anything but forever.

  This was happening. I needed to stay in the present.

  Tapping against the keyboard, I wrote a poem, one to get the obsessive feeling out of my system, but also to memorialize the day.

  Even minutes stretch to days

  My eyes and fingers longing for you

  The way my lips would crack for water

  And my skin would burn for shade

  In a desert of your love

  Now that our names are seared into each other’s flesh

  I am branded

  Belonging

  Only to you, only with you

  Forever, forever

  Embracing my need for you the way the earth orbits the sun

  Warm

  Wanting

  Wet

  And Growing

  Forever, forever

  In your orbit, my love

  I sighed, closing my eyes and tilting my head back. Maybe I could just imagine him before the ceremony. Get in the right headspace.

  One little peek in person wouldn’t hurt.

  Fingers twitching against my dress, I stood. “I’m just going to get some air. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay, don’t go too far,” Emily called, still fussing with her makeup, Shelly barely glanced up from her phone.

  I wouldn’t. I was just going home for a minute.

  From the pictures Reed had been sending me throughout the day, I thought I knew where he was. Hiking up my skirt enough so I didn’t step on it, I walked out in search of my love. The grounds weren’t incredibly big. Just as I opened the door, I saw a familiar flash of dark hair across the path.

  He beat me to it.

  Ducking to the side of the building, I giggled. “Reed, you’re not supposed to see me in my dress.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t write such pretty poems then.”

  The warmth in his tone made me want to slide against the stone and bask in his love. I heard him approaching, pausing by the corner without peeking around.

  “Weren’t you coming to see me?”

  “Yes,” I admitted, feeling coy, excited.

  “So? What’s the problem?” He waved hello around the corner, not far enough for me to see if he had been applying lotion to the oath on his finger.

  “You can’t see me yet.”

  He paused, his hand dropping in consideration. “Can I feel you?”

  Heart pounding in my chest, I almost crept around the corner. The idea of his hands on me before the wedding made my veins throb. We’d touched plenty in the early morning before departing and we’d been ravaging each other so thoroughly with the excitement of the week that my hips were a little sore, but that didn’t quell the fire in my heart for him.

  “I’ll close my eyes and turn around and I want you to put your arms around me. Is that okay, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  The sound of his feet shuffling accompanied the drums in my heart. “I love you,” I whispered.

  “I know, Betty. I love you too.”

  Feeling cautious, I crept around the corner towards his silhouette. No bandana for our ceremony, just beautiful hair swept aside with maybe a hint of product. Even though he had always been lean, the suit jacket accentuated his broad shoulders. I eyed the faint stripes of the stitching, the roundness of his ass under the edge of his blazer.

  “I love you,” I repeated, smoothing over his shoulders and squeezing them. His neck tilted back, his whole body relaxing into my touch.

  I had him. I snuck my hands under his blazer and hugged him around his waist. We belonged together.

  With a happy sigh, Reed spread his stance so I could lean on him. I pressed my cheek to his shoulder blade and rested. Being with him was being at peace.

  Humming, I hugged him tightly, relishing the way his hand closed over mine, the other reaching behind to scratch at my thigh.

  “Soon, baby,” he assured me. Our chests rose and fell together. Everything was so warm and perfect and kind. I felt safe. From the tender way his thumb brushed over my knuckles, I knew he did, too.

  Someone knocked on the door just as I was rubbing the healing ointment on my ring finger.

  “You ready?”

  I beamed at the sound of Frank’s voice. “Absolutely, yes.”

  Skirts in my palms, I stepped out into the fresh air where I could hear the river lapping gently in the background and people chatting in their seats.

  Chewy and Milo were all big grins, whereas Frank had his genial softness about him.

  “You look great!” They told me. I blushed and smiled and thanked them, glad I had my skirt to hold so I didn’t itch the promise on my hand.

  “Ready, squirt?” Chewy asked, holding out his arm to Shelly.

  “I’m gonna be tall enough to kick your ass one day,” she promised, linking her arm with his. She held her flowers with the detached poise of a teenager, like she could either cradle the pretty, delicate things or bludgeon someone with them in a flurry of petals at any second.

  Emily held herself with a bit more enthusiasm, thrusting her chest out and slinging her arm in Milo’s. “Shall we?”

  Acquiescing, Milo bowed, gaze curving maybe a little too appreciatively over his escort. “My pleasure.”

  Taking a deep breath, I sidled up next to Frank. I was almost as tall as him in my wedge heels and felt oddly like I was about to take a prom photo with him instead of walking down an aisle. So much of my life back when we knew each other well was about homework and organizing dances and events that didn’t matter in the long run except for making fond memories and taking pictures where I had to pretend.

  Now, everything mattered in a real, wonderful way.

  “You ready?” he asked, mouth slanted upwards and to the side, his eyes crinkled and elbow bent.

  “I am.”

  As the music cued up and the wedding party moved forward, I felt my lungs fill up with anticipation.

  It was happening.

  Adrenaline bubbled in my veins with the first step. There was music, and not just the orchestration. Rounding the corner felt like peeling back the curtain to the entire world where everyone stood in wonderful, blurry watercolor blobs.

  I couldn’t lose it, not this moment, not him.

  Blinking back my emotions, I sharpened in on the man standing at the end of the aisle: Reed’s lean lines and eager, trembling lips, the ones that bled and healed and prayed under my fingertips.

  It took significant effort not to br
eak away and run to him. The way Reed clasped his hand tightly around his wrist, I could tell he was holding himself back, too. He offered me a strained, watery smile, the lump in his throat bobbing rhythmically. Milo and Chewy nudged each other like it was the first time they’d ever seen him come close to crying.

  Just a little bit longer and I’d be there to wipe any tears away.

  Frank and I paced ourselves up the aisle, closer to my love, to my destiny. Trembling, whole-body shivers would ripple through my body at any second.

  Sensing my eagerness, Frank stopped walking me a little early, kissing my cheek and whispering, “Congratulations,” as he let go of me with a reassuring squeeze.

  Voice trembling, I managed a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

  For everything, I meant.

  The twinkle in his eye made me think he knew how important he was in giving me hope when I needed it most, how Reed gave me everything I needed from another person. Passion. Love. Safety.

  I loved him.

  The phrase repeated itself, heavy and thick and part of my brain as I turned to the pillar of my life. My partner.

  Our song never felt more poignant.

  With a shaky breath, I reached for Reed’s outstretched hand and his embrace, his expression so warm and inviting. I cradled the long fingers that always wrapped around me, inside of me, the cream of his freshly tended promise in place of a metal band.

  Heart thumping, I stood before him with whirring, ringing excitement in my ears. He squeezed my hand, lower lashes lined with tears, and bobbled as if his instinct was to kiss me.

  “Not yet,” our officiator teased, much to the amusement of the crowd.

  I almost wanted to shove them back into the river and leap into Reed’s arms, kiss him until his happy tears receded or leaked down his cheeks where I could brush them away to see more of his perfect, loving face.

  We squeezed each other’s hands. It was grounding during the short ceremony, the moments we had to be quiet and still. Steady breathing helped slow my racing heart. Elated thoughts kept filling me up, rising like the tide and flowing together.