Los Angeles

by Carlan, Audrey

  “Christ. Whatever am I going to do with you.”

  She shrugs and grins as her eyes light up with a sensual flicker I’d recognize anywhere. “I can think of a few things.”

  “Mmm . . . I bet you can.”

  3

  SKYLER

  Not long after the debacle on the dance floor, a surly Bo flops down in the open seat next to Parker and me. He reaches for the huge slice of wedding cake in front of my guy and slides it in front of himself. Without a word, he picks up the fork, digs a big chunk out of the cake, and shovels it into his mouth. Frosting rings the hair around his mouth of his mustache and goatee.

  “Hungry?” I ask with a grin.

  His lips twist into a snarl while he tips his fork sideways and cuts another large helping of cake.

  “Brother, what’s up with you and Baylee?” Parker asks gruffly.

  “Nuthin’, man. I got it under control. It’s all good,” Bo half growls, but focuses on the stolen cake and not my man.

  Park nails him straight out. “Then why the hell are you avoiding eye contact with me?”

  Bo drops the fork on the plate with a clank, grabs the linen napkin in front of him, and wipes his mouth with it. “I tagged her, all right? It was a one-time thing, we both agreed. No biggie.”

  “Nuh-uh!” My mouth drops open of its own accord as shock—and a little bit of excitement—skitters down my spine. I twist my seat a couple of inches closer as Bo crosses his arms and leans back.

  “Then why did she look like a little kid whose ice cream had been taken away when you were dancing with Geneva?” Parker asks, a curt and protective note to his tone.

  Bo sighs and plucks at his goatee. “Hell if I know. When I caught up to her, she said she was feeling out of sorts, was sorry she bothered me, and bailed again. That time, I didn’t chase her. Not gonna play games. If the woman doesn’t want to talk, give up what has her ass in a snit, who am I to push?”

  Parker purses his lips. “Bro, she ran off after seeing you with Geneva.”

  “Nah, man. She ran off because she was embarrassed.”

  “You’re wrong. I know women; you know I do. That woman had hurt plastered all over her face. That hurt was directed at you, not at the fuckwad extended family of Mick’s.”

  Bo shakes his head. “You’re wrong. Me and Baylee, we’re tight. Work together at the bar five, six nights a week. She’s solid. Works hard, keeps her head down, never complains.”

  “Yeah, but you just said you slept with her,” Parker adds.

  “It was two months ago, right after all the shit went down with Tracey and Pops. I was working the bar; it was Christmas Eve. All of you had plans, and I had the bar on my own. It was busy as fuck. She came in, having seen the ‘Help Wanted’ sign. Hired her on the spot. She worked the tables, took orders, and served, and we made the bar a shit ton of cash. After, we were tired, dead on our feet, so we took the solo couch in the place, turned on the TV, and sat and watched Christmas movies while doing shots. We got shit-faced. One thing led to another. Hooked up. One-time deal. We agreed. She says she’s good and has been at work every day since. I have no idea what was up tonight, and she didn’t want to share. End of. Now can we move on from this?”

  Just as Parker’s about to say something, we see Mick approach the stage where the four-piece quartet is, standing about ten feet in front of us with a mic in his hand, his beautiful bride at his side.

  Wendy is beaming from ear to ear as Mick puts his arm around her waist.

  “My wife and I would like to thank everyone for coming and sharing this day with us. The past year has been a whirlwind of activity.”

  Mick grins and glances down at Wendy’s smiling face. “My woman became the sister to a brotherhood of men we couldn’t imagine our lives without.” Mick’s gaze roams to our table where all of us are sitting.

  He then turns and cups Wendy’s chin and caresses her cheek with his thumb. “We suffered a crushing personal loss and helped our friends overcome crippling tragedies . . . and yet here we all are, celebrating an unbreakable love. One that I will never take for granted.” He wipes away a tear that slides down her cheek.

  My heart stops, and I grip Parker’s hand in mine, squeezing it tight. He lifts our hands and kisses each one of my knuckles as we watch stoic Mick worship his woman with his words.

  “Wendy, you are my entire world. Without you, I have no compass. No path to follow. No goals to achieve. Nothing. I will live every day of my life attempting to give you all that I am, and all that you could ever dream of. In front of all of our family and friends, you are my love and my life.” He gifts her a rare, full, even-toothed smile, but it’s not enough for our quirky girl. No, she wraps her arms around his neck and smashes her lips to his in a heart-melting kiss. He cups the back of her head and kisses her more deliberately to the hoots and hollers and tinkling of glasses from the entire crowd.

  Wendy eases back and rubs away the red stain on Mick’s lips. He grins, takes his pocket square, and wipes his mouth as she finagles the mic from his hand.

  “Hi, everyone . . .” She waves cheekily at the crowd, including our table as we laugh at her cuteness.

  “I want to reiterate what Mick said. We’re very thankful to have each and every one of you in our lives.” Her facial expression becomes serious. “You know, I grew up with nothing. No family. No friends. Looking around this room, I know how very blessed we are to have all of you. From my guys”—she gestures toward our table—“to my best friend, Skyler, who helped me make all of this happen, and my new adopted parents, the Ellises and Momma Sterling.” She gestures to the table next to ours where Parker’s parents are sitting alongside the Sterling clan of Royce’s mom and sisters. “As well as all of you, our friends from all over the globe. We thank you.”

  She turns her body toward Mick and brings the mic toward her face. “Mick, you’re the first person I ever loved. I didn’t even know what the word meant until I met you. Our love story moved at the speed of light. Some people say when you meet the person you’re supposed to be with, you just know. The day we met, all you had to do was look me in the eye, and I knew there would never be another person on this earth who could move me the way you do. You smile, and I melt. You kiss me, and I die a thousand beautiful deaths. You make love to me, and the entire world stops. The day we met, my life started over. You’re the man of my dreams. And you’re going to be the world’s greatest father.”

  The entire room goes dead silent as Wendy reaches for Mick’s hand and places it on her belly.

  Mick cups Wendy’s face with his other hand as she holds the first to her abdomen.

  “I’m going to be a father?” We can hear him through the microphone, only it’s softer since she has it held down at her hip.

  “Yes, sir.” She lowers her gaze.

  “You’re pregnant with my child. My son.” His voice is strained and thick with emotion.

  “Or baby girl. We won’t know for another two months what we’re having.” She smiles, lifting her gaze to his.

  He squints and shakes his head, but he moves both of his hands down to her waist. “I’ll never be happier than this moment.” He dips down and presses a soft kiss to her lips. She closes her eyes and wraps her hands around his neck but turns to the side, bringing the mic up to her mouth.

  “Sir Mick knocked me up, everyone! Time to party!” she booms into the microphone.

  I stand up and cry out, “Woo-hoo! Right on, Mick and Wendy!”

  Parker follows me by standing and clapping. Our table, along with most of the crowd, does the same thing. I watch as Wendy hands the mic back to the musicians; then Mick loops his arms around her waist and spins her around. She tips her head back and laughs as he kisses her neck, clearly overwhelmed with her news.

  I turn to my man. “This is awesome! I know after their loss, this is the absolute best news ever!”

  Parker pulls me into the warmth of his arms and nuzzles his chin against my neck and shoulder. “It rea
lly is. I knew they were trying, but she hadn’t mentioned anything since they lost the baby in Montreal, and that feels like an eternity ago. I’m glad they’re getting their happily ever after. As Mick said, their love is unbreakable.”

  I smile happily, watching my friend’s man dote on her. He leads Wendy over to their table, kneels at her feet, bringing her belly right in front of his face, where he traces the outline of her stomach. His eyes are filled with wonder as he looks up at his wife with absolute pride. I melt on the spot and even more so when he does the ultimate, pressing his face to her belly, hands spanning any leftover space. He seems to be speaking to their unborn child. Wendy runs her fingers through his hair as he kisses her there several times and then leans his forehead against her body for a long time.

  Parker turns us to the side so he can see what has my attention. A soft smile spreads across his lips. “That’s one grateful and happy man right there.”

  “Yeah. He’s almost as awesome as my man.” I wink and point my best cheesy grin up at my guy. “I want that, honey.”

  “What . . . a baby?” Both of his eyebrows rise up toward his hairline as surprise coats his expression.

  I chuckle. “Yeah, eventually. Just all of it. Marriage, babies, family. Being settled in our life.”

  Parker stares at me, an intensity in his blue eyes I’ve never seen before. “Peaches, we don’t need to rush anything. We’ve got all the time in the world now. You’re safe, and we are settled in a way. We’ve got our house that we’re making a home. You’ve got the new role coming up. International Guy has never done better. I don’t want you to make any rash decisions because you’ve had a tough year. I wouldn’t want to put that pressure on you or me.”

  I frown. “What if it’s what I want?”

  “Baby, you’ve had a lot happen to you this past year. I need to know that you’re healed inside and out before we make any more massive changes about our future.”

  I tip my head and run my hand down his lapel, straightening out nonexistent wrinkles. “Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa . . .” Parker grabs my hands and interlaces our fingers. “I’d marry you in a second if I thought you were truly ready for it. Sky, you’ve just come off of a seriously traumatic experience. I want you to give your mind the time to heal from that.”

  I laugh stiltedly. “So what you’re saying is that you’ll marry me when you think I’m ready?”

  He purses his lips. “Yeah.”

  “That’s a bit high-handed of you.” I cock an eyebrow, trying to make my point but still not take offense.

  “That may be, but I’ve got your well-being at heart.” He brings our hands around his back so that our chests are flush against one another. “How’s about this. You and I spend time living the boring life for a while. You continue your therapy, and then we’ll see what the future brings. When the time is right, we’ll both know it. Yeah?”

  I crinkle my nose, not at all agreeing, but nodding anyway. Wendy was right. I’m going to have to take my future into my own hands.

  “Come on, Peaches. Let’s go congratulate our friends and let loose on the dance floor.” He steps away but tugs my hand as he does.

  I follow him, though my mind is no longer on dancing or Wendy and Mick but on how in the world I’m going to get my guy to see that I’m ready for the next step in our relationship.

  “Don’t even think about moving that perfect ass,” Parker growls from his position behind me, cock sunk to the hilt inside. He’s so deep I feel hung up on his length, pinned to the mattress where he’s holding me.

  My entire body trembles as I tighten my fingers in a death grip on the sheets and try to breathe. Between the moment he slid my maid of honor dress off and the second it hit the floor in a wisp of yellow fabric, he was on me. Mouth to tit. Hands to ass. In a flurry of activity, he’d removed his clothes and had my knees to the mattress, ass up in the air at the edge of the bed, and his dick impaling.

  “Honey . . . I can’t . . .” I hold off the desire to move, but he knows I want to circle my hips, thrust myself on and off his length until we’re both screaming out. He knows, but he’s keeping it from me, the bastard!

  “What did I tell you was gonna happen if you played with fire . . . huh, baby?”

  I open my eyes but see nothing but blurry night shadows while my vision adjusts to the room. The moon casts slices of light through the massive french doors of our master bedroom.

  Parker runs his hands down the skin of my ass. “I said, you’d get burned. You played your hand, Peaches, snuck touches of my dick, my ass, my chest all night, and I warned you. Promised if you kept up your game I’d play . . . Well, baby, now I’m playing, and you are about to get fucked.”

  He eases his hips back and slams home with a jolting thrust that has me crying out, “Yes!”

  He hums deep in the back of his throat. “You like that . . .”

  Again, my guy slowly releases until just the flared tip of his wide cock head is pressed to the lips of my sex before he plows home in a brutal lunge.

  “Oh my!” My eyes roll in the back of my head, and I push up onto my forearms, no longer capable of breathing with my cheek against the mattress. “Honey . . . ,” I mewl.

  “I’ll give you honey, Sky.” He caresses both sides of my ass until his thumbs are where we’re connected. He pets the swollen and plump skin edging around where his dick is piercing me, and I start to pant, every neuron focused on the slight touch of his fingers in that sensitive space.

  “Like this honey seeping from between your legs, Sky. Mmm . . . love the way my girl weeps for my dick.” He uses his thumbs to part me farther and grind the base of his cock deeper.

  “Fuck yeah,” he groans, pushing as far inside as he can get. We’ve never been closer.

  I swear I can feel his length in my navel. “Baaaybee.” I gulp air through my lungs and hold my position.

  Parker rolls his hips in a circle, working every last nerve he can find inside me. Chills run up my spine, and I arch into it, wanting more, needing so much more. “Please . . . ,” I murmur through the haze of lust that’s controlling me.

  “Please what, Peaches?”

  I sigh and drop my head until my forehead rests on the cool sheets, giving me a moment’s respite from the pleasure and agony of him not taking me there immediately.

  “Please . . . fuck me,” I beg, not caring in the least if I sound wanton, because I absolutely am.

  Parker’s hands glide back over my ass to my waist. “Your wish . . . my command, baby” is the last thing he says before he goes to town on me, thrusting wildly, pounding hard and long.

  An intense fire builds between my thighs as he works me up until one of his hands comes around, and with an absolute precision built on months of very intimate knowledge of my body, he zeros in on my clit and doubles my pleasure.

  “Jesus, honey, I’m there. I’m right there!” I cry out.

  “Fuck yeah, you are. You take me while you go off. Squeeze my fucking dick!” He grinds out through his teeth. His finger is relentless on my bundle of nerves, but his powerful thrusts are more so.

  Just when I think I’m about to shoot off into the stars again, he changes the plan by curling over my body, jacking an arm up the center of my torso, and lifting my upper half up so I’m practically hung up on his dick, my back to his chest. One of his hands wraps around my breast, fingers plucking away at my nipple, his other hand at my waist, jacking me on and off his cock. The mattress is bouncing with his efforts, aiding in the wild ride he’s giving.

  I glance across the room and see our reflections in the vanity mirror above our dresser. His body is misted with sweat and glistening in the moonlight as he fucks me. The light bounces off his powerful torso, thighs and arm muscles showing how they flex and move with his body in a beautiful symmetry I can’t take my eyes off of. My guy’s face is hard, teeth bared, nostrils flared like an animal, his entire focus on giving me the fuck of my l
ife.

  I lean back, arching my own body. My knees are spread wide, balancing on the bed as I lift my calves and feet, pointing my toes. As desired, the stiletto points of the gold heels he was drooling over earlier make perfect contact with his body.

  He howls and jolts us both when the two spikes prod his muscular ass.

  “Hell yes!” He smiles, running his hand down my body and cupping me between my legs. His face takes on a mask of complete confidence and concentration as he presses two fingers to my slit, where he’s already stretched me with the girth of his cock. “You’re gonna take more of me, Peaches.”

  “I’ll take you any way I can get you . . ,” I gasp, and moan.

  He brings down both of his hands, and one goes straight to my clit and rubs circles until I’m mindlessly fucking myself on his length. With his other hand, he rubs his index and middle finger into the new wetness before he eases his cock out a few inches, making a little bit more room for what he plans to do. He takes long moments to bathe my neck, ear, and shoulder with kisses and love bites that have me shaking with need. Before I know it, he’s tipping my body forward and working those two digits alongside his cock, so he’s not only impaled me on his length, he’s hooked my cunt with two of his fingers.

  On a lion’s type roar, he stretches the full length of his body, those two fingers piercing right alongside his cock as deep as they’ll go.

  “Now ride that, Peaches,” he groans, but I’m so gone, overwhelmed with sensation and so full between my thighs I’m ready to burst. I’ll do anything right now to get my fix.

  I bring my hands to his bulging forearms, lay my shins back down to the mattress, and use the rebound of my weight to bounce my form up and down.

  “Beautiful. My dream girl. Takes her man any way he gives it,” Parker whispers in my ear. “You’re filled up, Peaches. I’ve got my dick and my fingers so far up your cunt you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”