He didn’t respond, and when I looked up at him he was looking at me like I was stupid. I almost took offense, until I remember that yes, I was being dumb. I groaned and thunked my head onto his chest. Monroe chuckled and rubbed the back of my head with his free hand.
“You see, I have an inside source,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“I know!”
“My brother is her personal assistant,” he continued in the same tone.
“I know!” I shouted again, then laughed even if I was a little embarrassed. “It’s been a long week and yesterday had a bridezilla and a momzilla and it was very much not fun.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I knew it was a tough one.” He rubbed me soothingly. At least the hand working the tension in my neck was soothing. The other one was anything but. But I knew that would pay off eventually.
“Eh. It comes with the territory. The only downside is they often hide their zilla tendencies until it’s too late and I’m stuck. But I guess even zillas deserve their wedding day.”
“True.” Monroe took his hand off my crotch, and I squawked in protest. But Monroe just slid his hand into the waistband of my sweats and took hold of my bare dick. A little maneuvering and he had the head pressed between his wrist and my belly, my balls in his palm, and his fingers against my perineum. When his fingers started tapping lightly, I draped my leg over the back of the couch.
“I love you like this,” Monroe murmured, his breath ghosting over my temple. “It amazes me how much you love this, how beautiful you get when I play with you. I’m so lucky you let me have you this way.”
I went still. He was lucky? My gaze shot to his face, and instantly he stopped tapping against me, though he didn’t move his hand.
“What’s wrong baby?”
“No. N-nothing’s wrong.” My voice caught. I tried again. “You think you’re the lucky one? Monroe, it’s me who’s lucky. I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who didn’t think this kink was weird.”
“I’m glad all the men in your life were stupid fucks, then, because I get to have you as mine. You light up when you talk flowers; you have that serene smile when you’re arranging them. Weddings are your favorite thing, and you glow after almost every one you set up for.” He kissed me, hard and short, then kept his face close. “You love sitting and doing nothing as much as you love going out. And you let me tease you for hours on end, keeping you on edge, until I make you scream my name when you come. You’re all the things I’ve ever wanted, even when I didn’t know I wanted them.”
He was so damn eloquent and all I could do was stare. Finally, I managed some words. “I love you.”
Monroe smirked. He had the gall to smirk, then say, “Yeah, I know. I’ve been telling you that you do for months.”
“Ass,” I teased.
“In case it’s not clear,” he said, giving my balls a tight squeeze that made me gasp, “I love you, too.”
And it wasn’t just my body or my kink he loved. I knew that. It was all the rest. I sighed happily, spread my legs even further, and settled back against him. “Yeah, I know.”
Epilogue
1 year, 3 months later…
“You ready?”
I looked at Lincoln and smiled wide. His grin matched mine. Then he handed me my bouquet. It was filled with calla lilies and amaryllis—on account of Wil’s allergies—and had one solitary pink Gerber daisy. They’d been my mother’s favorite flower, and since she couldn’t be here to walk me down the aisle as she’d wanted, I vowed to have her with me in any way I could.
It was early fall, and the air was still warm with just a bare hint of crispness to it. It was also a bright day, with no threat of rain, which meant we could do this outside. Dylan had outdone himself with the pond this past summer and water lilies now dotted the surface in addition to some water hyacinths. He’d also put in some dogwood trees, though they weren’t in bloom right now. But the whole area had been cultivated to within an inch of its life and it had never looked more gorgeous.
When Monroe suggested we get married here, I’d declined. Wilson’s allergies would make it impossible for him to attend. But Wil himself had told me he’d just dope up on antihistamines and he’d be fine, as long as I didn’t insist on having a two-hour-long ceremony.
He didn’t have to worry. I couldn’t wait that long to officially call Monroe my husband.
Lincoln headed off to stand next to his brother. There were only a few people in attendance. The Peters family who had welcomed me with open arms from the very beginning. Zoe and Lenore and their families, Zoe’s youngest la la la-ing along with the instrumental music. A few people I considered close friends.
“Nervous?” Elise, my Matron of Honor, whispered as the music picked up. Her bouquet was shaking in her hand, but I knew emotion and not nerves that caused it. She had a calla in her short hair that matched the ones in our bouquets, and the ones in the boutonnieres.
“Not in the slightest.”
“No, you wouldn’t be, would you?” She smiled, then tilted back her head and breathed deeply through her nose to keep the tears at bay. I grinned. She was more emotional than I was.
A shift in music and Elise straightened, then fluffed her dress around her bare feet. “That’s my cue,” she said with a wink.
Elise preceded me down the makeshift aisle, then the music changed and I stepped around the wisteria to take it all in.
And there was Monroe, standing next to this father—who was performing the ceremony—with the pond as a picture perfect background. The man I loved more than life itself. Waiting for me to make my way to him. His smile was so big, I was sure they could see it from the stratosphere, but his attention was all on me as I began the short walk toward him.
He was already mine in every way that mattered. And this celebration of our love would be the final step in our journey to our new lives.
As husbands.
I couldn’t get the word out of my head. Not since that moment Monroe had whispered it to me, late at night three months ago. “I want to be husbands. As soon as possible. Will you marry me?”
I threw myself onto him rather than actually saying “yes,” but I didn’t need to say the word. Monroe had already known my answer. And we’d put this together quickly because neither of us needed much. Just flowers and love, and our friends and family. Elise had squealed when I asked her to use the pond, then started crying when I asked her to stand beside me.
When I made it to the top of the aisle, Monroe stepped out to meet me, and he took my hand to pull me close to him.
“Now I get to make you mine, once and flor-al,” he said with a huge grin, accentuating the last two syllables.
I groaned at his use of the pun, but everyone else laughed. Monroe’s smile widened even further.
Adam Peters cleared his throat, then he said, with pride in his voice, “We are gathered her today to witness these two men, my son and my about to be son-in-law, in marriage. West and Monroe have opted to make this short and sweet, and so now they will exchange the vows they’ve written. Monroe, if you please.”
Monroe didn’t hesitate, and his grin didn’t falter. “I knew the moment I saw you, you were it from me. I learned that lesson from my baby brother. When you find the man of your dreams, you go after him. And I’ll be forever grateful you let me catch you. West, I love you and I will always love you.”
So very Monroe, short, to the point, and full of sincerity. I was teary-eyed, but when Adam said my name, inviting me to share my vows, I put the same confidence into it even though the long drawn-out speech I’d written and memorized seemed ridiculous now. I could have still said it, and meant every word. But instead, I spoke from the heart.
“You charmed me from the first meeting, and you’ve never stopped. You’re it for me. You get me like no one else does. I couldn’t ask for someone more perfect for me. I love you. I will always love you. And you’re mine as much as I’m yours.”
We exchanged rings, and my hands sh
ook, but Monroe clasped them in his until they stopped. I wanted to kiss him and leaned forward, waiting for the final words from Adam.
“By the power vested in me by the Internet and the state of New York, I now pronounce you husbands once and flor-al!”
THE END
ABOUT KRIS T. BETHKE
Kris is a bisexual hardcore fan of romance, and has been from a very young age. She believes love is love, no matter the gender of people involved, and all love deserves to be celebrated. With that in mind, she writes romance across several subgenres but with the ultimate goal of a satisfying happily ever after at the end. That is, after all, the important part.
Kris lives in a converted attic with a pack of rodents who amuse her daily, and long naps on the weekend are her greatest pleasure. A creative soul and an avid daydreamer, her pursuits range past just the written word into fiber arts, candle and soap making, and expressing herself with makeup. Kris finds inspiration in all of life’s twist and turns. From the mundane to the fantastical, just about anything will make it into her books. She loves to hear from readers, so feel free to get in touch through email, Facebook, or Twitter.
For more information, visit kristbethke.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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