by Rie Warren
My jaw practically unhinged, and then I smiled so wide I thought my face would break in half. I couldn’t believe it. She’d gone traditional. Well, traditional enough for Rayce. The dress was creamy white, rich and satiny, and it made her ivory skin glow even more. The skirt was cut high to just above her knees in the front, and it was full and flouncy.
She stepped off the final porch step, onto the aisle, her perfect pink lips spread in a tremulous smile. Big hazel eyes shining even from this distance.
The skirt of her gown flowed to full length in the back into a long sweeping train that fanned behind her like peacock feathers. White stockings encased her curvy legs. The high heels were gold and silver and sexy as fuck. But the top of her dress? Almost blew me over.
I rubbed my hand across my mouth. Strapless. Tight. Cinched in at her waist and cupping her gorgeous tits in such a way they were pushed up and out even more.
Watching her approach me, I licked lips and thought about how much fun it was going to be getting her out of the gown later. Might just have to leave her in the stockings and stilettos though.
Brodie whispered something. I didn’t hear a word he said.
Tiny white and pale purple flowers decorated her carefully arranged blue-streaked, night-black hair.
She was the most stunning creature I’d ever seen. And almost mine.
Tucker presented her with a flourish that got chuckles from our friends, but Rayce and I stared at each other, wholly captivated.
I took her hand from Tucker’s, glancing quickly at him to see him wipe under his eyes.
Jesus.
Swallowing hard, I guided Rayce onto the altar beside me. Her lips quivered, but her smile held even as two big tears slid down her cheeks.
“Goddamn.” I brushed the teardrops away then held her face in my hands. “You are so beautiful.”
I couldn’t resist a kiss—a soft feather-touch on her mouth.
Her hand on my chest trembled. “I’m not complaining about you either.”
The ceremony began, the reverend doing the honors. I didn’t notice when it was my turn to say my vows, Rayce had stolen all my attention. Her gorgeous face, her bright eyes with the wet sheen of unshed tears, her hand squeezed in mine.
Brodie elbowed me again.
Speaking strong and clear and from deep within my chest, I pledged every part of myself to Rayce, who truly looked like a princess today. Phoebe. Almost Phoebe Steele.
She stared into my eyes, her smile growing with each word I said, every promise I made to love her, honor her, cherish her forever.
When I was done, I gently framed her face with my palms to wipe away a few more tears.
“Do you, Phoebe Kathryn Lafayette—”
Her nose wrinkled.
“Just for a few more minutes,” I whispered, caressing her hand.
“Take Harold James Steele to be your husband. To have and to hold . . .”
I pressed my lips together, briefly closing my eyes when her voice rang out, soft and sure. When I opened my eyes, she reached up to dash away the wetness on my cheeks, the most mesmerizing smile on her lips.
We exchanged rings, and that time both our hands shook.
She wouldn’t let anyone help out with that purchase—not me, not Tucker, and she refused to take an advance from Josh. My woman had some serious pride, which made me even prouder of her.
As soon as the reverend said, “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now—” I swooped her into my arms.
The rest of his declaration was lost in the swelling yells and thunderous applause from our friends.
Our kiss was slow, a passionate twist of tongues and searching hands. Then it became reckless, a burning hot meld of mouths as we clung closer to each other.
I only broke away from her when the clapping and shouting turned into catcalls and wolf whistles.
“Hi, Mrs. Steele,” I whispered against her ear.
Her hands caressed up the middle of my chest and she smiled at me. “Hello, husband.”
That was our last quiet moment together. Madness—I mean, our friends—descended en masse. The whirlwind party began immediately after all the hugs, kisses, congratulations. Food and champagne and the champagne of beers. The cake and speeches and dancing.
Lots of dancing on a large platform after the altar was extended down by the river.
The afternoon melted into evening, a startling pink and purple sunset that wasn’t half as gorgeous as Rayce.
Music poured from the band we’d hired. All the candles had been lit, and hundreds of lanterns swung from the trees making the whole scene magical. Everyone danced—young and old. JJ with Leelee. Tucker with Rayce. I’d taken a turn with Gigi before slipping away. Laughter and chatter filled the night just as stars sparkled to life in the big black dome of the sky above us.
I stood alone, off to the side, letting it all wash over me. What a crazy group of people, and somehow it all worked. Family came in all shapes and sizes and circumstances, and this was Rayce’s and mine. Our parents were the only ones missing, my folks and her mom, but somehow I imagined they knew.
They’d know we found each other.
Cutting into the crowd, I located Rayce.
She swung her hips as she saw me approaching, rolling her shoulders and shimmying her breasts.
I caught her around the waist, one hand caressing the soft skin at the nape of her neck. “I believe this is my dance.”
We moved together, finding our own rhythm as heat coursed between our bodies.
“I saw you over there by the trees.” She kissed the edge of my jaw then tilted her head. “What were you thinking?”
I brought my hands to the sides of her face, fanning my thumbs across her cheeks. “I never thought I’d be this lucky.”
“Me either.” She gave me the brightest smile, the sweetest kiss. “I love you, Boomer.”
“Want to know what else I was thinking?” Twirling her around, I arched her over my arm in a fancy dip.
She squealed as I righted her, my palm slowly gliding up her silk-stockinged thigh.
Biting her lip, she cast flirty eyes at me. “What?”
“I can’t wait for everyone to clear out so I can take my bride to bed.”
My hand reached its destination and her eyelashes fluttered down.
“Why wait?” she purred.
As for the honeymoon . . . welllll . . .
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Coming Home
THE HIGH-PITCHED SQUEAL OF dirt bike engines wailed through the air like sirens going off. Rayce zoomed forward from the pack of dirt-spinning, high octane crotch rockets at what had to be blistering speeds upward of eighty miles per hour.
“You okay there, Prez? You look like you might puke up.” Kinkaid stood next to me, all pumped and excited while I wondered how much longer my ticker was gonna hold up against the mounting pressure in my chest.
“Watching Rayce out there is not good for my health.” I white-knuckled the metal railing in front of me, not daring to look away from her.
She put more track between herself and the other screaming bikes, and I cemented my feet in place before I hopped the barricade to put a stop to this whole heart attack in the making.
Kinkaid barked a laugh. “Good way to start your honeymoon then?”
I gritted my teeth.
“Ease up, huh? The little wifey is really fucking talented, you know?” He hooked his thumb at the racetrack currently being torn up by my woman.
“I dare you to call her little wifey to her face.”
“I may be blond, but I ain’t that dumb.”
My turn to chuckle.
Yup. This was the beginning of our honeymoon. Two days after the wedding I’d hitched up the trailer to my truck, loaded my beast machine—the Vincent Black Shadow—and Rayce’s sexy, sleek TXT trial bike and road tripped it to Livingston, Tennessee. Sadie and Kinkaid met us out there. Hunter, the kind—killer—soul that he was, had even lent his Tahoe to
Kinkaid so he could make the drive with Sadie’s pampered dirt bike hauled on the back.
Crazy skills? Rayce had those coming out of her pockets, but she’d never had the resources to get this far. Money issues meant she’d had to forfeit her entries in the bigger competitions. So when she placed for the semis of the US Nationals Women’s MX event at Thunder Valley Motocross it was a no-brainer the dirt bike queen was gonna go, and I was gonna cheer her on even while I almost lost my cool watching her.
Besides, she had new sponsors, starting with Retribution MC. And Chrome and Steele Auto Parts, Stone’s Garage. The Ladies of Redemption coughed up, too.
Rounding a corner, Rayce practically laid horizontal to the track. One boot on the ground to steady herself kicked up a dustbowl behind her. When she straightened the bike, I finally exhaled.
A huge hill was coming up, which meant another jump. I nearly crossed myself, only stopping because Kinkaid squinted at me with a huge smirk.
“Fuck you. I can still yank your patch.”
“Then who will clean the crappers?”
“You’re lucky you have a good point. I’ll let you live.”
“Damn. I thought marriage was supposed to mellow you out.” He lounged against the railing like it was a Saturday at the freakin’ Preakness, not the Indie 500 of motocross.
“Talk to me when you get hitched.”
I winced as Rayce sped up the dirt mountain, now nearly vertical. She popped over the lip of the hill, totally fucking airborne for several hair-raising seconds. Sadie went aloft right beside her, and the two of them pointed at each. The crowd went absolutely rip-roaring wild.
I almost fainted.
Rayce managed a soft landing and a curse blew out of my mouth. I wiped the sweat from my brow. Showing no mercy, she flew full bore over the bumps and twists, setting her apart from Sadie, who fell into third behind another 250cc land missile.
Things got dicey on the next turn, and Rayce was so close to our side of the track I could almost reach out and touch her. Her bike skidded, fishtailing almost out of control in the deep ruts of soft dirt. As she struggled to bring the TXT to heel, another racer shot past her.
Rayce was not going to take that lying down. She got the bike moving through sheer determination on the last straight stretch of the track and gunned down hard to catch the lead.
For the next twenty seconds I held my breath, watching while she closed the gap.
At the finish line, it was a photo motherfucking finish—too close to call.
Sadie came in a close third, lifting from her seat and punching her fists to the air.
“IN FIRST PLACE . . .” The announcer drew out his words, riling up the racers and the crowd.
He was a cunt, I decided. Making my woman and me wait.
“JAIME GAGNE!” His voice echoed over the loudspeakers.
The spectators went apeshit when the woman who’d outpaced Rayce during the last minute threw her helmet into the air.
“AND IN SECOND PLACE . . . a newcomer to our event letting her stripes show where it counts: PHOEBE RAYCE STEELE! How can you go wrong with moves like that, not to mention the name?”
Hell yeah. I plugged two fingers into my mouth to peal out a shrill whistle for my woman, my wife.
“Third place goes is Sadie Grace!”
The two women chest bumped on the track, whooping it up. My grin had to be as big as Kinkaid’s. We tapped fists and bro-hugged before vaulting over the railing. Two men on a mission.
I cut through the crowd surrounding Rayce and Sadie, Kinkaid close on my heels. Easy enough to do when you were a tall, broad-shouldered, mean-looking dude with a big, blond, muscled guy at your back.
Parted like the Red fucking Sea.
Reaching Rayce, I swung her into my arms. She flipped up her goggles, laughing.
“Damn good job, princess.” Placing her on the ground, I peeled her helmet off.
“I guess so. Didn’t win first place though.” Her bottom lip stuck out.
“You look me in the eye when you say that.”
She laughed, her cheeks pink with excitement. “I can’t.”
“Damn right, you can’t.” Cupping her face between my hands, I kissed her with all the intensity she inspired, her sinful body crushed to mine. “Besides. You had a lot going on this year. You’ll only get better. And you made it to the finals.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Did you see that jump?”
“The one that almost killed me dead? Or the one that made my pulse beat faster than your bike?”
“The tabletop!”
“Oh yeah. That one.” I skewered her with a menacing glare, remembering the moment I thought I was going to turn into a total caveman and call off the race.
She’d blown off the hilltop reaching heights I didn’t even want to think about before—by incredible feats of control—flipping her bike horizontal in the air.
“You know I’m careful.” She thumped me on the chest.
“Careful at an almost zero-degree angle?”
“You’ve never complained about how I angle myself before.” Rayce sinuously slipped against me, and even through her padded clothes, the heat she threw off made me delirious for more.
“You’re asking for trouble.” I swatted her ass.
“I can’t wait to get it.”
Before I could make good, she turned to Sadie and hugged her. “You hauled some ass, my sister.”
“Yeah.” Sadie swung her sandy blonde ponytail back. “We always make a good team. Maybe we should take it to the WWE Divas next?”
I groaned.
“Body slamming? In tight little hot pants?” Rayce’s eyes flickered back to me.
“Girl on girl, gurrrl.” Sadie high-fived her.
“Not gonna happen,” Kinkaid muttered.
“You got that fucking right.” I folded my arms over my chest as the women laughed at our expense.
Parting ways after the MX race, Sadie and Kinkaid returned to Mt. Pleasant while Rayce and I had big plans. We hit the Great Smoky Mountains for our cabin rental. So used to South Carolina’s lowcountry, we took in the craggy high peaks, the heavily wooded foothills, the plumes of fog that rose into the air to give the mountain chain its Smokies nickname.
Even better than the views? Our log cabin up in the hills with a chef-style kitchen I put to full use. Tall river rock fireplaces decorated the main room and the master bedroom. The hot tub on the deck steamed when the colder high-altitude air made contact.
We fished in the burbling stream. Relaxed in the hot tub. Hiked on the trails. Roughing it in our luxurious two thousand-square-foot log cabin.
Maybe not relaxing so much. The first night Rayce stepped onto the deck and dropped the towel tucked around her body, I nearly jetted off on sight.
Rayce in a bikini.
Christ Almighty.
My eyeballs almost fell out of my head followed by my tongue dragging on the floor. My erection went full staff in zero point zero seconds flat.
No way I could stop the fast rush of hot blood to my cock.
First of all, Rayce’s teeny bikini was nothing but a bright red, webby mesh barely covering her tits and ass and pussy. Second? Did I say knockers?
“You don’t wear this on the beach, right?” I croaked out.
She pirouetted. “Just for you.”
“That’s just . . . Rayce.”
“Really naughty?” She splashed into the Jacuzzi, adding to the whole wet-wet-wet visual.
“I think you stunned me stupid.” Leaning forward, I snatched her onto my lap.
“Just as long as you don’t have a stroke.”
With an animalistic growl, I flipped her onto the seat and started tickling her tummy.
“Aaah! Stop! Stop. I give in!” She kicked and flapped at me, but I was relentless.
Pulling her by her ankles, I dragged her off the bench. She splashed me in the face with a whoop that echoed around the rocky cliffs and tall trees.
Stars shined above, t
heir bright twinkles setting the night alight as we fountained water at each other, messed around, teased with kisses and touches.
Of course it all ended up hot and wet and that goddamn bikini . . .
“Mm. Something still seems to be working.” Reaching into my trunks, she lightly grazed her short nails down my painfully hard cock.
I bit her neck and tongued the mark. “That’s never been a question where you’re concerned.”
She released me, sliding her hand to the slick muscles of my chest and over the hair she tugged playfully.
Rising from the steaming water, she stepped onto the deck. “Wanna fuck?”
I’d never gotten a woman naked faster.
The whole honeymoon, I roughed her up, just the way she liked it. The woman couldn’t breath around me without getting fucked.
****
Whether Rayce was the first place winner or not, we returned home victorious in our own way. Of course our third stop was Retribution MC after we unloaded the truck, unpacked, collected Shitlock from Brodie and Ashe’s house.
As soon as we entered the clubhouse “Another One Bites the Dust” blared over the speakers.
Rowdy shouts and the slamming of beer bottles on tables drowned out the Queen tune when I bent to catch Rayce in my arms and carry her over the threshold.
“That’s right, fuckers. Another one bites the dust and couldn’t be happier.” I bragged before laying my claim on my wife with my lips searing against hers.
“Macho pig.” She gasped when I drew back.
“You love it.” I nipped her earlobe, and she kicked her feet.
“Put me down, brute. I need a drink, and I think I can hear the dartboards calling my name.”
I carried her to the bar before placing her on her feet after a long slow slide down the front of my body. I loved being so much taller than her, excellent viewing standpoint of her luscious cleavage.
“That’s how it is, huh?” I asked.
She collected her drink with a wink at me. “Uh huh.”
I spanked her ass as she walked away from me.
“You’ll pay for that later.” Rayce blew me a kiss.
“Can’t wait,” I called out as a bottle of beer and a shot appeared beside me.
