by Angel Payne
“So…good,” she cries out at the same moment her weeping walls clench harder around me. “Perfect…God. Don’t…stop.”
“Never,” I snarl. “Fuck, Emma. Never!”
“I…I love you.”
“And I worship you.”
“Ahhhh!” Her scream seems to spark the air as her stretched hands do, the vibrant nets between her fingers incinerating tiny leaves and dust motes drawn by the vortex of our passion. “Ahhhh! Y-Y-You’re going to…going to…make me—”
“Damn straight I am.” I sound like a marauding beast, but I don’t care. Isn’t the growl part of the deal for the real superheroes anyway? Along with the cape and the night shadows? Well, I’m not doing a fucking cape, and I don’t need shadows when I have this white-gold goddess in my arms, around my body, throughout every corner of my heart. “Give it to me, Emma. My sweet flare. My perfect fire. Give it to me, woman. Now!”
Her mouth opens on a wordless scream. Her hands, arched and extended, are surrounded in circles of gold light. Her body trembles like glass being cracked by the sun before gripping me like a supernova star sucking in the atmosphere. I’m as lost as that air, absorbed and absolved, vanished but vanquished, drained of all my light but exploded into so much more at the same time. Pure power. Pure completion. A jettison that starts at the top of my spine, plummets to the middle of my ass, and then rockets out of my cock with heat I’ve never known before.
I’m a new star.
A reborn cosmos.
“A fucking miracle.” I blurt that one out loud for a couple of reasons. First, to validate I’m still capable of speech. But second and most importantly, so I can double its purpose: to give it back to her as the utter worship it’s intended to be. I’m only a miracle because this woman’s believed it of me—and believed it’s always been in me. And never, through all of the madness and turbulence and bizarreness that’s come along with our incredible, unforgettable love affair, has she ever wavered in that conviction.
And so yeah…the words. Just for her. From the dazed, amazed, miracle-bright depths of my spirit.
Right this second.
On this perfect day.
In this indelible brightness, as I slowly bring her back up and then secure her against the rocks again. As I stretch out, tangling our legs and relocking our stares and meshing the fingers of our free hands. Yeah, despite the sparks that linger between hers, and even after those sweet little fireworks manage to pop and sizzle their way down into my cock, making it instantly jolt back to life again.
As soon as the fucker punches at Emma’s thigh, she parts her lips on a cute bell of a giggle. “Is somebody really not done being bolted today?” she quips.
I nuzzle into the delicious dampness between her jacket collar and her neck. “Am I ever done when it comes to you, little Flare?”
She grumbles softly. “Hey. What happened to Bunny?”
“And Velvet?” I prompt.
Her growl turns into a pleased hum. “Oh, good. You didn’t forget.”
“Never.” I nip and bite my way up to the creamy curve of her ear. “And I never will, either.” I trace the edge of the pink crescent with the tip of my tongue. “My velveteen bunny still sits on her rightful throne in my heart and always shall.”
During my assertion, she delves her fingers into my hair and massages my scalp with mesmerizing pressure. I struggle to focus on her words instead of that magical touch as she murmurs, “Only right now…we’re not in the throne room?”
“Oh, we’re still there, baby.” I breathe in, concluding this is by far my favorite scent of hers so far. Coastal sage, wild wind, and satisfied woman, with an overtone of smoky sunshine. Jesus, how I want to fuck her again—but if my instincts are right, we’ve likely been out here longer than we originally planned, which means we’re already late for the rest of the day. Normally even that wouldn’t deter me, but today is today…
Forcing composure to my voice and an imaginary ice bath for my cock, I insist, “I think the throne room just needs a minor expansion.”
“Hmmm.” Her reply is defined by curiosity. “An expansion? Does Flare need that much space?”
“Hmmm.” I repeat it, figuring her sultry vibration is worth reciprocating. “Flare needs to be picky about where her stuff goes.”
She sniffs. “She sounds like a world-class bitch.”
“Nah.” I pull away far enough for her to see my sly smirk. “She’s just a budding superheroine.”
Her gaze is such a sudden pop of color, I’m too late to stop the new fireworks it sends to my cock. “A superh—” Just as quickly, the explosions melt and become big, gleaming tears. “I’m…I’m getting a badass name now?”
I toss a mock glower. “What? Bunny isn’t badass?”
“Don’t be a teasing bastard, Richards.” She smacks my shoulder but then squeezes out more of those gorgeous tears. And just like that, the boulder of emotion I’ve been sidestepping is a linebacker of lead, taking my soul down in one rush.
Somehow I manage, muttering around the giant fucker. “Haven’t been teasing you, Miss Flare.” As I use a thumb to swipe away some of the wetness from her cheek, I turn my stare tender but serious. “I think it fits.” Holy fuck, probably more than she realizes. “But if you don’t like it, we can—”
She cuts me short with a fierce, fast kiss. “I love it.” And then another. “And I love you.” But finishes with another soft sob. “Oh, God. Sorry,” she blurts. “I’m a mess today.”
My turn to initiate the kiss, though I’m more tender about our contact. “Well, today isn’t like a lot of others.” I brush her lips again. “In a lot of ways.”
She laughs through the tears. “You’re really right.”
“I usually am.”
“Nervy beast.”
“Brilliant beauty.” I take her lips with mine again, decidedly less of a gentleman about it. That’s because there’s a new message attached to it. You’re so perfect and you’re so mine, Emmalina Crist. Especially now. Especially today.
But as I pull away, I already see another thought tugging at her. Before I can query her about what’s important enough for her new train of thought, she rasps, “So…is this what it feels like for you too? All the…heat?” She blushes, clearly having thought of a better word for the feelings.
“You mean all the lust?” I chuff as I fill it in for her. “The skin-stretching, blood-frying, gut-ripping—”
“Okay! Yes! All right!” She relents with a giggle. “The lust. There. I said it—though not before you made it sound like a freaking horror movie, mister.”
“Oh, I had a bunch of stuff prepared about my impressively romantic cock, but this cute little sun flare came along and…” I snicker as soon as she does, ending the mirth with a succession of soft but wet kisses. I seize the opportunity with each contact, lingering longer and longer until I’m finally pushing all the way inside her warm, welcoming cavern and twisting my tongue against hers with passionate adoration. I don’t let up until the woman is a moaning, sighing mass of mush beneath me—and admittedly, I’m shaking with need too.
Only when she deliberately pulls away, catching her bottom lip beneath her teeth, do I realize how well the game’s been played on me, instead of the other way. But there’s barely time to process that and let a confused scowl take over, once the mischievous bunny exposes her ultimate purpose.
“So…now that Flare has an official name and all…”
I almost laugh again. The woman is nothing if not persistent. “She still doesn’t get to go public, baby,” I rebuke as diplomatically as possible—expecting and receiving the backlash of her pout-twisted lips.
“But we’ll have everyone together today, and—”
“Yet another reason why she stays a secret,” I counter.
Emma huffs. “But media will hardly be an issue since we’re only allowing the two photographers, and we’ve already asked everyone else to damn near relinquish their cells during the ceremony and recepti
on. We can just ask them adamantly again, and—”
“Baby, even if we do, it won’t matter. You know this as well as I do. We’ve vetted everyone attending or working this thing, but all it takes is one whisper in the wrong ear, or one photo ‘accidentally’ leaked, and the internet will combust quicker than an Outrider slamming a Wakandan force field.” I stroke my fingers into her hairline. “I’m not going to sacrifice your safety in the name of your excitement.”
Her pout becomes a glower. “But you gave me a new name—”
“And I’ll be happy to put it on a T-shirt. Hell, I’ll order them for the whole team. But right now, we’re the ones controlling this narrative, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Clearly, Faline has advised the Consortium to lie low as she baits us with silence. Either that, or she has purposely kept the full reveal from them. Either way, those fuckers have been abnormally quiet, and I want to enjoy the scenic stillness for as long as we can.” I allow my head to swing slowly back and forth. “I guarantee you, that bitch won’t let things be peace, love, and Bob Marley forever. When she disrupts again, we all have to be on our A game.” After tangling my hands deeper into her hair, I pull her in for a closer embrace, simply cherishing her softness and nearness. “But just for today, I don’t want to worry about the fucking game.”
Today isn’t about the game score.
Because today, I’ve already won.
And I sure as fuck plan on celebrating that as thoroughly as I can—no matter how tightly she sets her jaw while pulling away. “I refuse to stay on the bench forever, damn it.”
“Emma.” I emulate her obstinance. “It’s only been two and a half months. And I trained—”
“For at least six,” she injects along with a heavy sigh. “And wished you’d had even more time. I know. I know.”
“So you also know the rest of this drill,” I counter. “I’ve also already acknowledged that I didn’t have the extra information and resources that you do. Between everything you’ve learned and applied from Foley and me, you’re already eons ahead of where I was at this point.”
“And yet you still order me to stay under glass.” An accusing gleam enters her gaze. “Glass I’m capable of turning to sand, by the way.”
I notch two fingers against my temple. “Duly informed, ma’am.” Then let my gaze drop to the ruined hardware that used to hold my pants together. “And damn, was the enlightenment fun.”
As I hope, she finally softens. A little. “That’s me,” she grumbles nonetheless. “Just a barrel of fun. When you’re finished, be sure to put me back on the shelf between the Twister set and the Gamerverse Pops.”
“Never.” I dip my head, forcing her to view the determination in my gaze and feel the surety of my grip. “You’re not meant for the shelf, lady.” I slide an urgent kiss from one side of her mouth to the other. “Not now. Not ever.”
As soon as I lift my lips back up, she demands, “Then when?”
I refrain from kissing her again. At this point, it’d be just a mollification. “Soon.” And though it’s not, she clearly takes it that way. “I promise, baby. Very soon.”
She ropes down my gaze with the force of hers. Holds me hostage as she scours my whole face with her probe, which should have me twitching like a worm on a hook but doesn’t. Her intensity is my consolation, my support. My shelter. My sanity.
At last, she speaks again. Just a whisper, though the calm assurance of it is enough. “Soon.”
“Soon,” I repeat, brushing her forehead with my lips. “Just not today, okay?” Then lift away only by an inch, filling my stare with the dark-turquoise magic of hers, and suffuse my senses with her sweet scent all over again. “For today, just let me have Emmalina Paisley. And in return, I’ll give her all of Reece Andrew. No Bolt, no Flare, and no world that wants a piece of them.” I let a few flyaway strands of her hair sift through my fingertips. “Just us, my beautiful girl.”
Slowly, she recaptures the lush pillow of her lip between her teeth. Adorably, she swipes at a windborne leaf lodged in my hair. “Just us, hmmm? Kicking back, cruising through a So-Cal Saturday?”
I break into my finest shit-eating smirk. “Something like that.”
“Grabbing some smoothies and watching the longboarders on the waves?”
“Something like that too.”
“Maybe later on, getting some beers and calamari at Moonshadows and rate the pick-up lines we overhear?”
I chuckle. “Definitely something like that.”
“Well, I like the sound of all that too, mister.” With a slow, sultry smile, she ropes her arms around my neck. “But there’s just one eensy-beensy thing we have to do first.”
“Killjoy.” It’s tougher than I expected to make my grin fall. I don’t want to scowl at her, even if the expression is completely feigned. “All right, then,” I drawl. “What ‘eensy-beensy’ thing might that be?”
To my combination of delight and dread, she plays along with my reticence. As she lifts her head to caress her lips along mine, she’s practically wincing. As we tangle our tongues, her moan is real. And as she finally drags away, she tilts her head with a sweet but tantalizing pout. “We sorta-have-ta show up at our wedding.”
“Damn.” I bask in the warmth of her giggle as I toss out a really fake glower. “Is that today?”
She drops the pout for a nonchalant shrug. “Hey, if you want to go get beers instead…”
I cut her off with a hard and deep kiss, adding enough ruthless tongue to make sure she knows I’m not kidding around this time. Several minutes later, once I relent and release her again, I capture her gaze once more. “We may be doing this late, but we’re doing it, woman.” As I vow it, even the sun that’s lent her its power seems to agree, turning a deeper shade of gold in her hair and in the tips of her eyelashes. “I can’t wait another day to truly make you mine.”
She cocks her head to the other side. “And to truly become mine?”
Emotion suffuses my chest. Pure light invades my senses. The answer I give her for that is the easiest sentence I’ve ever spoken in my life.
“That happened a long damn time ago, baby.”
Chapter Three
Emma
About a mile after turning his M8 off Mulholland Highway and onto a private road twisting through rolling citrus groves and flourishing vineyards, Reece eases the car into a parking space next to a stunning two-story ranch house. Of course, the place is rich with California touches—the indigenous succulents in the planters, the white paint accents along the rails, the stylish flatstone pavers comprising the walkways—but it still feels like a world apart from LA, and even the ridge. In short, exactly what we were seeking. A place that feels like a new land for the start of our new life together…
It’s going to be a perfect day.
The conclusion fills me with so much joy, I bounce out of the car and into Reece’s arms before he can make it all the way over to open my door. He rumbles out a laugh as I pepper his jaw with joyous kisses, uncaring that we look like the ending of the schmaltziest romantic comedy ever made. God, what I wouldn’t give for a day filled with nothing but rom-com hijinks.
“Fashionably late, hmmmm? Well, aren’t you two right on trend?”
With my arms still around the burnished cords of my man’s neck, I whip my gaze around toward the figure who’s appeared on the house’s sprawling side porch. “Well, hello to you too, Princess Purple Pants.”
Lydia hurls a mock glower. “For that, you don’t get even an obligatory Congratulations.” Still, she underlines that with a little laugh. I’m not sure how to interpret the sound. It’s a toss-up between her you’re-so-busted grin and her you’re-so-screwed drawl. Either way, I shake off the discomfort as soon as she inadvertently brings it. Nearly as fast, I attempt to scoop out the rest of the rock bits from my hair. But do I really expect to have more success with the task than I did during the drive over from the dam?
Not that I claim, or even want, the right to compl
ain. I was the one who ordered Reece to keep the top down as we sped here. California afternoons like this were why he paid to have the M8 customized in the first place. The sunlight is the color of spun gold, swathed across the sprawling hills and vineyards in a stunning visual tapestry. The air is spiced with a little ocean, a little eucalyptus, and a lot of star jasmine. If I lean over, I can peek at the catering staff, their shirtsleeves rolled up as they set the tables for our reception.
Our reception.
Oh, God.
For some crazy reason, though we’ve already been here a few times before to solidify the arrangements, the truth of this moment starts hitting me in full force. Yes, right here. Yes, right now. Maybe it was why I begged Reece to take me out for training instead of a quiet lunch today. Why I’d known if we sat in a restaurant for a few hours, I’d be climbing the walls with restlessness. Why I’d gone on about how the Consortium likely isn’t taking the day off, so why should we? That the world isn’t going to stop just because of one wedding…
Ohhhhh, holy hell.
Our wedding.
Reece’s deep laughter jerks me back to the moment. Though it still feels like I’m experiencing everything through a weird layer of gauze, the brilliance of his full smile is more dazzling than the crisp afternoon sunlight. A miracle. That’s simply what the man is. A magnificent miracle.
“…all good, anyhow.” The last part of his statement to ’Dia actually penetrates my fuzzy brain. “Because at this point, congratulations would just be premature. But you can have a hug for the sweet thoughts, anyhow.”
“Ohhhh no, you don’t.” Lydia juts out both arms, warding him and his lingering mud clumps away from her swishy rose-gold gown, its soft-pink hues matched by the tiny flowers that have been braided into her hair. “I love you, brother, but not whatever you’ve been rolling around in.”
“Whatever, sister.” Reece cracks a new grin, already showing how much he enjoys getting to use the word. “Bet I can find someone around here who doesn’t mind rolling around with me a bit.”
