The Sinclair Heir

by Scott, Eliot

  “Oh. Yes.” She hops up quickly, shakes out her dress and turns to both of us. She pulls the three rings I gave to her, all tied up into one big bow, out of her little pocket, then unties them, placing them together in the palm of her left hand. With a smile, she first slides my wedding band onto my finger and says, “I marry you to me.” She turns her attention to her mother’s solid platinum ring next, sliding that one on, saying, “I marry you to me, too, Mommy.”

  Jojo and I take the little ring we had made for her and place it together on her tiny left hand ring finger. “And we marry you too, Emily,” Jojo adds.

  Emily pulls in a deep breath and says formally, “Now we are all married. One family. Forever and ever.” She shares a nod with me, which nearly cracks me up because I’m so proud that she remembered what I told her to say, but before I can congratulate her, she adds her own ending. “Married until the rest of our whole lives. And…then…” She sighs out, picking up both of our hands and presenting them as if we’ve both tied a wrestling match, “and then they all lived happily ever after. The end.”

  Her proud little grin is as bright as a comet, and it explodes into all of us.

  Shelly crumples into tears, and even Jeff starts sobbing from the phone on the rock. Walt smiles somewhere underneath a scraggly beard, and Jojo and I—we do as she said.

  We start to live right away…happily.

  14.

  Jojo, Present day.

  After the ceremony, we all had a nice dinner together. Making it more special, Jeff hung out with us on the phone the entire time. His approval, as well as how he truly believes he hasn’t abandoned us by accepting a job far away, means everything to me.

  Emily was the one who insisted on dancing and with everyone, and once I announced to her that it was her bedtime, she went with Walt and Shelly, while Alex told me he’d set up a surprise. He took me back out to the lake and then down to the little dock where he kissed me and directed me to put on a pair of Chucks. With a smile that melted my heart, he asked if I’d take a walk with him. I agreed quickly, and then he led me in a direction we never go—along what looked to be a freshly trodden pathway that went off from the backside of the deck, away from the lake.

  I thought for a while that maybe he had another place nearby that I never noticed—a guest home or something like his parents’ boat house. Or like his father’s old hunting lodge that’s located at the other end of the lake. We’ve been walking for a while now, though, so whatever it is…it isn’t an easy walk from the main house.

  “It’s not far,” Alex says, as if he can read my mind. He keeps smiling that sexy-secretive smile of his, ducking us under branches and past bushes, until he leads me through this thicket of trees and out into a little meadow. It’s a sparkling scene that can only be described as magical and made of dreams and wishes.

  My dreams and wishes—ones I didn’t even know I had.

  Somehow, there is an oasis out here. With the use of some very large and long extension cords, Alex has strung lights through the branches all around us. Linen drapes in the shape of a tent with thick hemp ropes to hold the panels in place. All of it, placed above a king-sized mattress covered in down-feather and fleece blankets, and easily twenty pillows, and side tables with candles—all of it set up to make the perfect outdoor retreat for us to be alone.

  I feel like I’m part of some magazine photoshoot, walking around the fairy forest he built for me. “When and how did you do this?” I whisper in awe, pausing to kiss his lips as we enter the structure.

  “I have my ways.” He’s looking at me with heat in his eyes. “I just thought we’d need our own space away from the house, and Shelly and Walt, and Emily. Just for tonight.”

  “It’s perfect.” I nod, smiling while shaking my head at every detail around me. “Is it strange that I’m nervous?” I kick off my slippers and step onto the soft bedding and mattress before I look up at the glowing tent ceiling.

  “Not at all, considering what went down between us last night,” he says with an impish wink, following me inside.

  “Panty ripper.” I laugh.

  His lip rises on the right, and his cheek dimples, the shadow of his stubble making it even darker and more pronounced.

  “You’re so beautiful.” I stare, heart fluttering, wondering why I’m suddenly so timid.

  He stares back. “You are. Always.”

  I run my hand along one of the linen walls and it waves at my touch.

  “I can make a fire…if you want.” He points to this awesome metal fire pit, already loaded up with kindling.

  “That sounds nice, even though it’s not cold, is it?” I move toward him.

  Alex shakes his head and pulls his tux jacket off, laying it down to the side of the bed area. He uncuffs and rolls his sleeves up. The muscles of his forearms flex with the slight movement, reminding me how they looked last night while he was making sure I came a second time before he left. My stomach swirls in anticipation.

  The contrast of the version of him standing here now with the boy I first met years ago makes me chuckle.

  “Do you remember when you couldn’t build a fire?”

  He winks at me and steps a few feet out from our tent, crouching down to find the box of matches he probably set up earlier along with everything else.

  “I could make a fire. I just wanted to see if you could make a fire. I wanted to watch you…” He flashes me a grin as he easily gets the kindling to flare up.

  “You were so refined and proper, there is no way you knew how. I taught you how to be rough and tough.”

  “You, Josephine Wallace, taught me how to be a lot of things,” he teases. His smile softens quickly. “You taught me how to be generous, and kind. And you taught me how to share, and want more than I’m supposed to—but,” he stands and pulls me into his arms, and up next to his erection. “But I was always rough and tough.”

  “Oh, okay…sure, if that’s what you want to believe.”

  He laughs. “And…yes, okay, fine Jojo. You taught me how to start a fire, but later I’ll make you sorry for reminding me of it.”

  “Is that a promise or a threat?” I tease.

  “A promising threat,” he teases back with a wink. “Because I’m going to teach you some things tonight.”

  He chuckles, opening the cover on the portable fire pit to add a few larger logs on the top of what he’s started. It crackles after a minute or two, the new logs catching instantly, and holding hands, we return to the tent.

  “Happy Wedding Night, Mr. Sinclair.” I give him a look that says how much I love him. He follows my every step with slow and steady ones of his own, his eyes growing suddenly hooded, his voice tentative and hesitant.

  “I know you had the question when we said our vows. It was something we didn’t address but I want you to know that you—you don’t have to—you can stay Mrs. Wallace. My last name—maybe it’s not right for you?” He lifts his chin, and I can tell he means it. I can read the worry in his eyes.

  “How about we all—me, you and Emily—become Wallace-Sinclairs,” I suggest. “We’ll be hyphenated into a new name. A perfect union. The miracle union. So very hip.”

  “I love the sound of that. And yes, we are a miracle, the three of us.” An expression of calm paints his face. It’s like we both get there’s a deeper, connective understanding that comes with that word—a truth about us. Alex and I are a miracle. Emily even more so. We are the couple that shouldn’t be, the forbidden family, star crossed, but instead of letting it ruin us, we simply persevered to fulfill our destiny.

  We’re true love. And we’re married. And tonight means everything to me. To us.

  His eyes lock on mine. I turn slowly so my back is to him and shoot him a look over my bare shoulders as I sweep my hair out of the way so the trail of buttons down my back is exposed.

  “Mind helping me get this off?” I whisper huskily, while I bite at my lower lip. The warmth of his knuckles grazes my spine and the heat that’s puls
ing off of his body sends a shiver all the way down into my core.

  I swallow hard. “I love you, Alex.”

  His lips fall gently against the back of my neck as his fingers trail along my back. His breath is close and hot against my tingling skin as he works the first button free.

  * * *

  Alex

  “I love you, too, Jojo. So much,” I utter, dropping another kiss onto her soft nape while my fingers work quickly to unhook the next few of what has to be at least a hundred pearl buttons down the back of this dress. “I love you so much that I’m not going to rip this fucking dress off of you how I want to, because I know it’s an antique and that it’s your grandmother’s…even though I want to.”

  She laughs, turning to send me a smirk. “Appreciated. You…husband.” The word, the look on her face, the way her voice shudders on the second syllable, undoes me. My hands start shaking, making my difficult task nearly impossible.

  “Damn…did you have to call me that? It makes me sound so serious. Old!”

  “It makes you sound hot.”

  “Too responsible,” I laugh, tugging free a few more buttons, finally exposing the long expanse of her bare back and a sexy glimpse of a white, lacy bra with little sparkling things sewn onto it. My cock surges to life. “Let’s see how you like being called…wife.”

  “Oh. I like the sound of that.”

  “Do you?” I grin as she shivers and arcs her body towards me. I pause to run a finger along her spine, twining my finger into the back of her sexy bra strap, letting her know I’ve seen it, before returning to the infernal button job, because she knows and I know the only way through to seeing the front of this bra and what else she’s wearing to turn me on is to exercise extreme, mind-blowing patience—one button at a time.

  “Fuck.” My fingers have accidentally tugged off two buttons too quickly and we’ve both heard the audible pop. I wince, watching the buttons disappear into the darkness outside my makeshift tent area. “I’m sorry, Jojo. We’ll find them tomorrow.”

  “I think I can help.” She reaches her hands around to the back and helps me undo the next few buttons that sit above her ass, but as she wiggles and moves closer to me, she’s bumping into my cock and…damn…by the look on her face, I can tell that she knows she’s not helping at all. She’s nearly killing me.

  “Yes!” I shout. Our hands meet at her lower back on the last button. “You take it off because if I try, I’m going to shred it,” I order, voice hoarse, body shaking with impatience.

  I’m dropping my tux shirt and pants like they’re on fire, and my dick is so heavy with want and need that I nearly blow it all when I turn to watch her gingerly working her way out of the sleeves then the bodice of the dress. The way she’s stepping out of the rest of it is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Or at least, that’s what I thought, until she unclasps this sexy sheer, fluffy and see-through slip thing that was under the dress and hiding the tiny piece of lacy-what-the-fuck-sexy-floss that runs up her perfect ass! This lacy nothing is now the best thing I’ve ever seen.

  She reaches up to undo the pins in her hair so the circlet of flowers she’s got up there can come off, but I beg her to stop. “Don’t. Please leave it. Leave it all…Jojo, you’re so sexy. Come over here.”

  “You come over here.” She looks over at me, and my eyes follow how her hands are caressing her breasts over the fancy wedding bra that matches the thong.

  Not needing a second invitation, I close the distance between us, and my mouth is on hers and I’m pushing her back into the mattress underneath all of the fancy bedding.

  At first, I thought the mattress was too much, but now—the way I’ve torn that thong off of her, and I’m pounding into her—the way she’s got her legs limp and spread wide for me as she’s calling out my name half in whispers, half in moans, I’m happy I don’t have to be careful or worry if I’m hurting her back.

  “I know I promised not to rip any more panties, but…damn…”

  “They weren’t really panties, were they?” She finishes for me, tilting herself to meet my thrusts while her hands reach between us to push against me. I pause above her, locking eyes with her, wondering what she’s about to do or if she’s asking to stop, when she finds the weight of my cock and holds it in her hand. Grinning, she spreads her legs even wider, returning me to the opening of her fire-hot, wet clit.

  “Just…feels so good…” I can barely form words as I enter her again. She bucks up in this sexy and involuntary jolt, moaning and biting that bottom lip of hers.

  Suddenly, I’m so far in her, I swear I can feel the heat from the center of the earth pulsing into both of us. I’m so hard and she’s so soft and slick—so sweet, accepting and loving. She moans for me to go faster and harder. I’m trying to keep the bulk of my weight off of her by leaning onto my forearms while her hands get tangled deep into my hair. She pulls kisses from my lips, and pants up and against my thrusts.

  I come so hard I surprise myself, and by the way she’s moaning and squeezing every inch of my cock with her pulsing body, I know for a fact she’s coming hard, too. “Sorry—too fast, I know…” I mutter when our bodies have stopped throbbing and squeezing from explosions. “I had longer plans for how things were going to go inside this tent.”

  She squeezes her insides against me hard and presses her hands into my ass, grinning up into my face as if she enjoys how I gasp, jolt, and involuntarily thrust myself into her one last time while she pushes up to meet my movements. “Sorry for what? We have all night. And next time…I’m going to start on top—show you my own bigger and better plans.”

  I kiss her swollen lips, and when I try to pull out she holds me with a quick, “No. Stay in there. I want to feel you getting hard inside me.”

  I smile and flip her easily and without pulling out as commanded, so she’s sitting up on top of me.

  It takes only a few seconds staring up at her perfect tits, still encased in the white lacy bra, while she wiggles around on top of me to grow hard again.

  “Wow. I can’t believe you’re already—“

  I push up into her and she gasps out again, grinning. “Wow.”

  “A husband aims to please.” I smile wickedly. “I did my part. Show me what you’ve got, wife.”

  15.

  Jojo, Present Day.

  I’m a Mrs. A wife. A very satisfied wife.

  I keep bursting into smiles, even laughter, at that thought. And then I blush. I’ve never giggled so much, but I can’t stop as I replay the memories of what this Mrs. Wife did with her Mr. Husband last night.

  Alex and I couldn’t wait to get back to Emily—to begin being a family. And Emily, being too little to understand what a honeymoon is supposed to be like, was going to be looking for us.

  Like we were on some fancy honeymoon island and there were pretend servants waiting to clean it all up, we left the tent intact without a backward glance just before sunrise. Wrapped in the silk sheets, we only took the time to gather up my Grandmother’s dress and Alex’s tux before sneaking back to the house to shower before Emily, as if on cue, came skipping in looking for us to make her after-wedding-morning pancakes.

  Despite our tiredness, we were both happy to be part of what we three declared officially as the newest Wallace-Sinclair tradition.

  Alex has moved from using the boxed pancake mix to whipping up his own creations from scratch, always adding in chocolate chips. He says it’s just at Emily’s request, but I know—the chocolate chips are for him.

  With full bellies, the four of us, plus the floppy, trouble-making Ajax, come out on to the deck. The wedding orchids we left scattered all over the rock yesterday have blown into the water. It’s a rare day of clear, blue skies, something to be cherished around here.

  “I want to swim!” Emily dances up to the water’s edge putting her fingers in. “It’s not too cold.”

  “I think it’s too soon after eating. What do you think?” I turn to Alex, loving that I get to bring him int
o these simple decisions now. We’re parents.

  “I think it’s colder than you imagine, Emily.” Alex shudders, joining Emily at the water. “But.” He wiggles his brows and starts rolling up his pants. “It’s not too soon to wade in and learn how to skip rocks.”

  Laughing, Emily splashes her feet into the water, watching carefully and then copying Alex’s demonstrations of how to skip a rock. Her fingers are still too small and maybe a bit uncoordinated to get the perfect flick on a stone.

  “Show me one more time, Daddy,” she begs Alex, as though she’s called him Daddy since the day she was born.

  “You pick the rock this time,” my husband—Emily’s daddy—responds, both of those words filling me up with as much brightness as the sun.

  Emily finds a heavy one that won’t skip at all, so when she’s distracted, Alex switches it out for something a little flatter. He bends his elbow and tells her to watch just as he’s releasing the stone across the water.

  “One…two…three, four, five…six!” Emily counts every fast-bounce the rock makes along the glassy surface, ringlets of broken water mark each touch, as if the water is keeping score.

  “That’s the most skips yet!” She leaps into Alex’s arms, and this time, he walks with her deeper into the water, ready in case she tries to go too deep.

  I move closer to them, cooling my feet in the lake along with them, and I groan at my family as they give up on throwing rocks to turn and splash me.

  Aunt Shelly pulls her shoes from her feet eventually and joins me. “I’m so happy for you, dear,” she says quietly. “So happy.”

  Before I can hug my aunt or even respond, Alex’s phone starts to blare from our pile of things back on dry land, so he takes Emily’s hand and leads her back to me, pausing to kiss me on the lips before jogging up to answer the phone. Curious, I do my best to listen, but I’m not able to make out Alex’s words. I wonder if it’s May, but also hope it’s Grady.