by Cate Ashwood
He dropped his hand. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Okay. Will I see you before the party?”
“I’ll try my best.”
He gathered me close and kissed me, deepening it almost instantly, and I responded like he owned me, my back arching to mold to his body, my heart racing, my cock filling.
He did own me, and that was the problem.
Barrett
“You ready for the lamest bachelor party in Alaska?” Frankie announced with enthusiasm over the mic.
There was a weak cheer from Logan in the back, and everyone else laughed.
“All right! Driver, to the pub!”
Everything in Sawyer’s Ferry was walking distance to everything else, but Frankie insisted that since we weren’t having strippers, the very least we could do to make this party resemble an actual bachelor party was to hire a bus.
So, we’d borrowed a school bus for the evening. I wasn’t sure how that was any better than walking, but Frankie seemed pleased.
We arrived at J’s, our first location. Everyone gathered inside, and Frankie hauled three chairs to the front of the bar. Standing on the center one, he pulled Gage and Holden up with him.
“Before the evening begins, we have some preliminary business that needs to be done. First, we need to coronate our kings for the night.” Jane handed him a bag, and he pulled two identical crowns from inside. Each point was a giant gold cock.
Frankie placed them on Gage and Holden’s heads, looking awfully proud of himself.
“You just have those lying around?” Holden asked.
“Nope. I ordered them my first week in town. Which was smart, because they arrived yesterday, because this godforsaken place is so fucking backwards.” He waved Holden off. “And now a toast!”
Jane lined up shots on the bar, and Mason and Logan passed them around. Once everyone had a drink in their hand, Frankie spoke again.
“To Holden and Gage. To happiness and long lives and sucking the same dick forever!”
I hadn’t realized he’d been holding a cord until he tugged it, and a sign that read Same Penis Forever came tumbling down amid a cascade of glitter from the ceiling.
“How long do you think it took to rig that?” Mason whispered.
“Dunno.” But watching Frankie stand beneath the shower of paper circles as they fluttered to the ground, it was easy to see how pleased he was that it had worked.
“To Holden and Gage!” someone shouted in the back.
Everyone lifted their glasses, then threw back the shot. Perfectly timed music started playing, and with that, the bachelor party had begun.
Frankie had gone all out. There were games and competitions, drunken challenges with prizes no one wanted but everyone fought their hardest for.
A couple of hours in, Jackson and Logan helped Frankie shove all the tables aside to create the same dance floor he’d had for his birthday night out. Jane cranked the music up.
At first, most of the guys hung back, but not Frankie. He was the first one out there and within seconds, was totally absorbed in the music. He dipped and swayed, shaking his ass to the beat. He looked totally carefree, totally blissed-out on the steady thump of the bass and the easy rhythm. Holden and Gage joined him a minute later, Gage pulling Holden close, their hips moving together in harmony.
They were totally lost in each other’s eyes, and even from across the dark room, the way they loved each other was completely obvious. Jackson and Logan stepped up next, Jackson a little reluctant, but when Logan put his arms around Jackson’s neck, he lost any resistance and they started to dance.
Watching them from the sidelines, two couples, and then Frankie, I wanted to pull him to me. I wanted to be able to feel his heart racing as we danced. Especially after the last few days, when things had started to feel a little distant between us.
I wasn’t sure if it had been Katya, or if it had just been a coincidence that things had started to feel rocky around the same time, but since we’d gotten back from Juneau, there’d been a marked difference in our relationship.
And I had no idea what to do about it.
One by one, some of the other guys joined in, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Frankie. The way he moved was pure sex, and it felt like years had passed since I’d last been with him. This was not the time or the place, though, as much as I wished it was.
As much as I wanted to put my hands on him, the room was filled with people, and I wasn’t ready for that.
I felt like a coward, and more than a little out of place, but all I really wanted was Frankie.
I watched him for a while, stewing in a weird mixture of lust and jealousy and apprehension, and when he took a break from dancing to get a drink at the bar, I stalked over to him.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
He shifted his attention to me, his eyes taking a split second to focus, and he smiled. “Sure.”
I walked out of the bar, through the group of guys with cigars, around the back of the building to the stairwell leading down. Jane kept the door unlocked, and I pulled it open and flicked on the light. Frankie was right behind me.
I waited approximately half a second after the door clicked shut before grabbing him and shoving him against it. He let out a startled squeak and then a ragged groan as my mouth came down on his. I could taste the alcohol on his breath, just behind the eagerness. I pushed up against him, grinding my hips against his, showing him how hard I was, how turned on he made me.
“I couldn’t sit there all night watching you and not touch you,” I growled. “I needed to touch you. You were making me crazy with how you were dancing.”
“You should have joined me.”
“I thought about it. I wanted to.”
Frankie tilted his head back, giving me access to drag my lips down his throat, over his Adam’s apple. “You can touch me now,” he gasped as I licked along his collarbone. “You can touch me however you want.”
I reached between us, unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly I slipped each button through the hole, baring his skin to me a little at a time. I kissed each inch of exposed flesh until I was able to push his shirt over his shoulders and to the floor.
Leaning forward, I sucked his nipple into my mouth, worrying it gently with my teeth. He hissed, burying his hands in my hair and holding me to him as I added pressure a little at a time.
His hips were rocking, and I knew he needed more.
I let my fingers trail down, the backs of them combing along the happy trail that led into his low-slung, tight-as-fuck pants. With some quick maneuvering, I had them undone and pushed down in seconds.
I lowered myself to my knees, realizing immediately that there was nothing between Frankie’s dick and the world other than the thin faux leather of his pants.
“Commando?” I asked, looking up at him.
He quirked a smile back. “Panty lines are a fashion faux-pas.”
“Easier access too.”
“Yep. Hypothetically, it would save a bunch of time, except you’re yapping away down there, rather than just sucking my—fuuuck.”
His head fell back against the door with a thump as I slid his dick all the way to the back of my throat, then promptly choked. I pulled back a bit, inhaled, then tried again, holding my breath and relaxing my throat, sliding Frankie’s cock as far back as I could.
He gasped, this strangled, broken sound that traveled right through me and straight to my balls. Already panting, he rocked his hips a little, testing things out as I pulled back, then dove back down.
With each downthrust, he moaned, like I was slowly killing him and he never wanted me to stop.
I was so turned on it hurt. Given that I wasn’t experienced at all at being on this end of a blowjob, I did my best, doing to him the things he’d done to me that had felt so fucking good I had barely held on to my sanity.
When his fingers tightened in my hair and his thighs began to tremble, I knew he was close. I sucked harder and pi
cked up the pace. He panted, my name coming out in raspy breaths over and over again until he cried out, his hips snapping forward as his orgasm hit.
I swallowed as he came, gentling my mouth and letting him ride out the pleasure for as long as he could before pulling back and standing.
He was breathing hard as I held his wrists above his head, kissing him soundly. I was aching against the fabric of my jeans, desperate to come, but it would have to wait.
“Barrett,” he gasped, liquid in my arms, as I sucked a mark up, just beneath the collar of his shirt. “I wanna make you come.”
“Later.”
“When?”
“Later,” I repeated, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “You’re coming home with me tonight.”
There was no room for argument, no space for him to make excuses or flimsy reasons why he couldn’t. I wasn’t taking no for an answer, and he knew it.
“Yes.”
Frankie
I was a fucking idiot.
I’d had two too many Alaskan iced teas and my body was feeling loose and fluid, and then Barrett had taken me downstairs and the entire universe and everything in it had ceased to exist because he’d thrown me up against that door and manhandled me into an orgasm and I was his forever.
At least, I was his for those few minutes and then several more times after I went home with him.
Like an idiot.
Because it I was like a man on a diet who had just been given a bag of Double Stuf Oreos. Only I didn’t stop at one bag—I ate the whole fucking crate, and I was hungry for more.
Staying away from Barrett had seemed like a good idea. And it had worked for a while… mostly. But confronted with him again, presented with the temptation to spend the night with him, to let him use my body, to fall asleep in the warmth and safety of his arms and wake up with his mouth caressing my skin, the seduction of it had been too much and I’d caved hard.
When he’d gotten up before me to bring me waffles with whipped cream and Nutella in bed, if I hadn’t already fallen for him, I would have in that moment.
It had taken every ounce of willpower I’d possessed to extricate myself from him, and honestly, if I hadn’t been needed at Logan’s place to get ready for the ceremony, I might have stayed forever.
Even now, when I should have been concentrating on taking pictures and helping with the final-second preparations, my mind was back in Barrett’s bedroom, reliving the things we’d done to each other in the dark.
I wondered briefly if sleeping with him one last time would make leaving hurt more or less.
“Is everyone here?” Holden asked, pulling me from the sweat-soaked memories of the night before.
“I think so. Jackson was doing one last head count, but I think we’re almost good to start.”
He nodded. “Good. That’s good.”
“I’m sorry your mom didn’t make it,” I said softly. Holden shrugged it off, but I knew it bothered him a little. His father was unavoidably detained, being in prison and all, but his mom had made the choice not to be there.
Holden wrestled with his bow tie before untying it and trying again.
“You got that?”
“Yeah, I got it. I’ve done this before. My fingers aren’t working today.”
“World-class vascular surgeon without enough dexterity and coordination to tie a knot. I’m sure your patients would be thrilled to know.”
“Fuck off, Frankie. I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m getting married,” he said like I was the one who’d said something stupid.
“I know. But you’ve been going on and on and on for the last two months about how you can’t wait to marry him and nothing else matters as long as he’s at the end of the aisle. It’s been enough saccharine sweetness that even I’ve had trouble ingesting it.”
“I know. I don’t have doubts about Gage. I’ve never been more sure of anything. It’s just… it’s a big day. And until this minute, I didn’t think I needed it to be perfect. But I think I do.”
“Lucky for you, I’ve been camping out in this shithole for the last two months making preparations and you don’t have a thing to worry about. Today is going to go off without a hitch.”
He sighed. “And if it doesn’t, I guess we’ll have a story for our grandkids.”
I gaped at him. “You’re pregnant?”
“Hey, Frankie.”
“Mmm-hmm?”
“Fuck off.”
Two hours later, I’d snapped as many photos as I could of the grooms getting dressed, of the venue, the guests arriving, and all the close-up shots the happy couple could stand of all the small details and considerations I’d put in over the last two months.
It was all coming together.
I had to admit, the barn and the surrounding grounds were gorgeous.
White tents had been set up to give some shade, and Logan had created a huge circle of grass at the side of the barn for the ceremony and reception, and with the side of the barn converted to huge french doors that walked out onto a patio with steps down to the lawn, it was the perfect spot for a wedding.
The little manicured cutout was surrounded by wildflowers and tall grasses, which made it feel like an oversized version of a fairy ring I’d seen in books as a kid, keeping nature at bay. At the edge of the property line, the tall grasses became evergreens as the forest crept up and reached out to the mountains beyond.
Overall, it looked fucking magical, and between the twinkling lights, the candles, and the lanterns, no one was going to leave unaffected by the atmosphere of it.
It was romantic as fuck, if I did say so myself.
When everyone was seated, a hush fell over the guests as the music began to play. I snapped a thousand photos a second as Gage walked down the aisle, then Holden. I’d never seen my friend look as happy as he did in that moment.
By the time the officiant had started the ceremony, both men had tears in their eyes. Every single guest was focused entirely on them, but I was looking for Barrett.
My eyes scanned the crowd, and within half a heartbeat I’d found him. I was at a distinct advantage, though, given that the guy was huge, and he stuck out quite obviously in a crowd on any normal day.
Today, wearing a tux, it was hard to believe anyone was looking anywhere else.
He was stunning, and he was staring straight at me. I felt my stomach drop out, and everything else faded to a dull murmur in the background. I lifted my camera and took a picture, wanting to remember the way he looked at me as long as I lived. Snippets of the vows filtered through my consciousness, like the blurry notes of a soundtrack in a cheesy romantic movie.
I love you.
Yours forever.
Until death do us part.
I swallowed hard and forced my attention back to my friends, checking into reality just in time to capture the “I do” and the kiss.
The guests erupted into applause, and I stood there absolutely blown sideways with the weight of my feelings for Barrett. It wasn’t falling for him. It wasn’t considerably attached. It was full-on, beyond a shadow of a doubt, conclusively in love.
And that fucking terrified me.
The officiant wrapped up his speech and presented the couple for the first time. Gage and Holden walked down the aisle, hand in hand, officially husbands. I hung back a moment, snapping photos of their backs and the happy faces of their guests as they greeted them.
I stepped to the side, needing a second to gather myself before diving into the fray. Running wasn’t an option, though it’s what I wanted to do. Holden and Gage were counting on me, so despite the fact that I was having my own personal crisis, this was no place for a meltdown.
“Keep it together, Frankie,” I whispered to myself, hoping that saying it out loud would make it easier to take to heart.
Barrett
The wedding had come together and was turning out to be the biggest party Sawyer’s Ferry had ever seen. The barn had bee
n transformed into something Frankie could have pulled right out of the glossy pages of a wedding magazine. It was romantic and modern and so Holden and Gage that it was kind of shocking they hadn’t had much to do with the planning.
It seemed like everything had fallen perfectly into place. Even the weather had cooperated, and so the party had remained outside.
The interior of the barn had been set up with all the food and the bar, but the outdoor area was where everyone gathered, dancing and socializing under the twinkling lights and fabric-draped tents.
Holden and Gage had opted not to have groomsmen, but Frankie had been kept more than busy all night between his duties as the photographer, as well as coordinating caterers, florists, bakers, and DJs.
He was running around like his life depended on the wedding going off without a single hitch, and for the most part, people didn’t really notice him. He was like a tuxedo-wearing blur with diamond cufflinks that caught the light as he sped past, but he was all I could see.
I’d missed most of the ceremony because I’d been busy staring at him. Every day he seemed to become more beautiful, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t remember what my life was like before I’d met him,
It seemed unfathomable that it had only been two months earlier that I’d first laid eyes on him. Now, he was such a huge part of my life, I didn’t know what I was going to do once he’d gone. I’d considered it a lot about in the days since we’d gotten home from Juneau.
One thought kept springing to mind, and I couldn’t seem to fucking shake it. Over and over it slipped in and had almost come tumbling out of my mouth that morning.
The problem was, the solution seemed like a long shot. How many times had Frankie made it perfectly clear he didn’t want to be visiting Sawyer’s Ferry? How could I possibly expect him to uproot his entire life in New York city to move to Alaska? For a man he’d known two months, no less.
But it wasn’t like I could be the one to make the move. I had a business, a life tying me to the town. My roots ran too deep to pull, and so I was stuck between two impossibilities.
