Marry Me: Royally Complicated #2

by Katz, Avery

  I panted into his hair as he showered my chest with openmouthed kisses. It was hard to form a coherent thought when his hands were all over my body. He tugged my shirt down my arms before unzipping my brand new Diesel jeans with his teeth. I stifled a moan and allowed him to pull my pants down around my thighs.

  “Fuck. Are you wearing Star Wars socks?” He asked with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

  “Uh-uh.”

  He smirked and tossed my jeans over his shoulders.

  “You sexy nerd.” He stood up and pulled me in for another steamy kiss. I cupped his chiseled jaw and kissed him back. He guided me towards the couch and pushed me down onto the comfortable cushions. My heart was racing faster than a bullet train. Blood rushed down to my cock as I watched Greg undress. He took his sweet time taunting and teasing me. It was an erotic striptease without the sexy music. I hurriedly took off my underwear and touched my cock while he got rid of each garment. He made a show of folding up his khaki pants and polo shirt before crawling between my legs and kissing the tip of my cock. The visual was too much, especially when he smacked my hand away and took over. He grabbed his trademark mini bottle and drenched us both in lube.

  “You dirty, dirty boy.”

  “Hey, that’s my nickname for you. I have sole ownership of the words dirty and boy.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I started using them of course,” he said, climbing on top of me on the wide couch. He bent down and kissed me softly this time. I was too aroused to care about the divorce papers. I just wanted to feel him inside me. Mom was right. Everyone was right. I was addicted to him. He was like The Legend of Zelda. I was obsessed with that game. I almost named my daughter Zelda if not for Wendy and her parents.

  Greg dipped his tongue into my belly button and stretched my hole with his wet fingers at the same time. The dual sensation sent shivers down my spine. He leaned over me and ground our cocks together. The pleasure multiplied and morphed into this big ball of ecstasy. It rolled down my body, spreading tiny morsels of pleasure from my head all the way to my toes. I threaded my fingers through Greg’s naughty curls and gave him more room to maneuver between my thighs. His eyes changed color from emerald green to dark, lustful midnight green. His muscles rippled like a river as he positioned himself to sit on his knees. His cock was hard and ready to send me to orgasm central.

  I held his passionate gaze and felt him at my entrance. He teased and prodded my stretched hole with the fat head of his cock. He was adamant about making me beg for it. Beg for him. We loved playing that game. He smirked and turned his attention to my cock. It was leaking precum on my stomach. He gave it a few quick pumps before grabbing hold of my thighs and sliding into me.

  “Yes,” I moaned with satisfaction. Making love to him got better every single time. He grunted and stretched me to the hilt. I could feel him rubbing against that bundle of nerves. I closed my eyes and almost bit my tongue from the mind numbing sensation. “Shit. Yes.”

  He glided in and out of me and asked me to open my eyes. His muscles clenched with every inward thrust as he gave me more and more of his thick, long cock. His caressed my thighs and made me bend them at the knee.

  He churned his hips, trying new moves that had me crying out and asking him to repeat them.

  “You like that?” He punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust.

  “I love that.”

  He alternated between a fast and slow rhythm for a few minutes. I held onto the cushions and closed my eyes. My cock was ready to pop at any minute. Greg wrapped his arm around the swollen shaft and pumped it in time with his thrusts. Our lovemaking shifted from slow and sultry to fast and hard. Rhythmic grunting filled the living room as he fucked my brains out. He leaned over me with both hands on either side of my head and drilled me like an oil well. I flung my arms around his back and pressed his chest against mine. He rutted into me harder and faster, his pubic bone rubbing against my engorged cock. We were both so close to cumming. His shoulders tensed and his movements were choppy. He raised his hips and fucked me at a different angle, sending us both over the edge.

  I felt him swell inside me until he erupted like a hot volcano. He grunted my name in my ear and wedged a sweaty hand between us. He used it to fist my cock. I felt the pressure mounting right behind my balls. A strangled moan escaped my lips when I finally came. I drenched Greg’s hands with my cum. It dripped all over the cushions as I struggled to catch my breath.

  “Damn.” Greg got up and melted into the carpet. He grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped himself down.

  I moved to sit up and grabbed my clothes from the nearby armchair. My orgasm faded, and my brain woke up from its slumber. I suddenly remembered the divorce papers lying on my dining table. I got up and went to the bathroom to wash up. My face was flushed, and my stomach was drenched in cum and lubricant. I took a supersonic shower and washed away the evidence of our lovemaking. Greg was like an incubus. He walked into my penthouse and released his sexual energy into the air like a fragrance diffuser. My five-minute shower was enough time for me to put things back into perspective. I dried myself off real quick and pulled on my jeans and V-neck shirt. It was time to have a serious discussion with my soon-to-be ex-husband.

  I grabbed the divorce petition from the dining table and joined him on the terrace where he was smoking a cigar. “Hey, would you like a taste of Havana?” He pulled one out of his pocket and offered it to me.

  “Thanks, but no. The last time I smoked a cigar, things did not end well.”

  “Quin. You were twenty-one and drunk off your ass. Of course it didn’t end well.” He puffed on the cigar and blew a circle of smoke into the air. “What’s this?” He pointed to the papers in my hand. “More app ideas from your team?”

  “No.” I held out my hand and gave him the papers. “I’m officially going to file for divorce on our behalf so you might want to read this petition and sign on the dotted line. It turns out that getting married in Vegas is the real deal and not some marketing strategy used to lure the gay population into coming to Nevada.”

  Greg looked shocked. I had no idea why. He knew about this long enough to digest it and accept it. “Why? We’re good together. We even perfected our grocery shopping routine. Why the hell do we need a divorce?”

  “Come on, Greg. We both know how this story’s going to end. Two months from now, you’ll get bored of me and Adley. This grocery shopping routine you just mentioned will feel like a chore eventually. Your short attention span will prompt you to go out looking for more excitement and a change of pace. We both know your track record when it comes to commitment.”

  He dropped the cigar into the ashtray and tossed me an offended glare. “I’m fully committed this time. I have been eating, breathing, and sleeping commitment for the past few months.”

  I shook my head and started listing all of his short-term boyfriends and fuck buddies. “Like I said, your track record is enough proof of your lack of commitment. Stewart, John, Aiden, Tom, Roberto, Mike, Carlo, and Caleb were all wonderful guys. You simply broke up with them because they were serious about you. I still remember how Carlo came crying to me, saying you refused to meet his friends. I knew right off the bat that you were going to break up with him the next day. You once ditched a boyfriend of yours because he made the mistake of leaving his toothbrush at your place!”

  “That was ages ago, Quin.” He blushed. “That’s so not fair, Quin, and you know it. You have no right to use this argument against me because we were friends at the time. We weren’t lovers. Things are different now. I’m different.”

  “Watching the way you treated those men left its mark on me. The past always bleeds into the present, Greg. Your experiences in the past influenced who you are as a person. I just have a hard time believing that you’ve changed. I don’t think you’re being sincere at all. You were flirting left and right at that dinner party. I can’t risk putting my heart on the line again. Adley’s already attached to yo
u. The last thing I need is for you to break her little fragile heart too.”

  “Flirting? What the hell are you talking about?” He frowned. “And here I thought Tommy was dramatic.” He huffed. “Come on, Quin. Give me a chance to prove just how serious I am.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I think it’s best if we go back to being friends. And not friends with benefits either. Just friends.”

  Greg stepped forward and grabbed my hand. “Give our marriage a chance. This is all I ask of you. I really have changed. I’m not bullshitting you. I swear it.”

  He failed to tell me that he loved me. I naively waited for him to say it, but he didn’t. “My decision is final. Please sign the papers, Greg.” I pushed past him and grabbed my car keys from the coffee table. “I’m going to go pick up Adley. When I get back, you can say goodbye to her.”

  28

  Greg

  I scowled as I watched Quin leave. I was fucking hurt in every way possible. He rubbed my history of serial dating in my face. He handed me the divorce papers right after we made love and accused me of flirting with other men at the dinner soirée. It was a triple punch in the gut. It pissed me off so much. I had no idea what to do next. I was out of my depths and so angry, I could punch a wall and tear it down. I grabbed the divorce petition and tore it in half. Quin could move his ass to court and get another copy for all I cared. I came to San Francisco with the best intentions only to have him throw everything in my face. Our nights of fantastic sex, introducing him to my family and treating Adley as if she were my own baby. He ignored all of this and focused on the bad.

  “Fuck!” I kicked the coffee table and sent the duty-free bag flying into the air. Quin and his pessimism were driving me crazy. He gave me an ultimatum, and I fucking hated those. I hated being forced into a corner like that. He tugged the carpet of options from under my feet and told me to fucking leave. He wanted us to go back to being friends. Friends!

  What kind of Kool-Aid was he drinking? Maybe I should drink some of that shit too.

  I pulled out my phone and called Danny. Nathan’s familiar voice greeted me on the other end of the line. “Hey, Nate. where’s Danny? I really need to talk to him.”

  “Hey, Greg. He’s at the prenatal appointment with our lovely surrogate. Why? Is everything okay? You sound off. I told you jet lag would eventually get to you.”

  “That’s not it. I...are you free to talk?”

  “Yeah, man. I’m on hiatus right now. It’s been great just chilling and riding my horse around the estate. Feel free to spill your guts. I’m famous for my sound advice when it comes to matters of the heart. Trust me. I have the lyrics to prove it.”

  “Sure. Okay. Thanks.” I sighed. “Brace yourself though because I’m about to lay some real shit on you. Quin wants to file for divorce and push me back into the friend zone.”

  “Shit! Seriously? What the hell happened again? Does he enjoy spending time filing papers at the courthouse? Why does he want a divorce this time? Did he catch you cheating on him with a drag queen?”

  “Jeez. You ask a lot of questions. Well, no. There was no cheating involved,” I said. “Fuck. I never knew my past would come back to bite me in the ass.”

  “Why? What is so incriminating about your past? Did you join a biker gang and do drugs?”

  “What? No. You must be watching way too many Sons of Anarchy episodes.”

  “Yep. Guilty as charged. Don’t tell Danny, but Charlie Hunnam is so freaking hot it’s unbelievable.”

  “Fine. I’ll keep it between us. My drug-free past is riddled with tales of commitment phobia. I guess I left a trail of unhappy ex-boyfriends behind me. Quin witnessed all of my hookups and breakups and now he thinks I’m not marriage material. He’s afraid I’m going to break his heart and ditch both him and Adley. He thinks I have the attention span of a fucking goldfish. Oh and he accused me of flirting at the dinner soirée.”

  “Well, to be fair, you did laugh and joke around with Prince Asher during dessert.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, we were making fun of Aunt Edith. Did you not see her outrageous pompadour? Her hair looked like a fucking Swiss roll.”

  “Yeah I saw it. Her hairstyle is kind of funky.”

  “Can we please go back to Quin?”

  “Yes. Sorry. So, what happened between you guys?”

  I sat down on the armchair and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “He told me to sign the paper and leave. He refused to listen to reason. I tried to convince him to give me another chance but he said no.”

  “Shit. This sucks balls, man.”

  “Tell me about it. So, what should I do? Should I just give up and leave?”

  “Hmm...give up and leave? Hell no. Greg, do you want me to reach into this mouthpiece and slap you?” he said. “Remember how Danny came after me? Well, you need to make a big statement of your own and show him just how serious you are about him. This is my advice to you.”

  “Big gesture. Okay. Sure. I can do that.”

  “Yeah. Don’t give up. Are you listening to me? Show him that you’re not going anywhere. Actions speak louder than words, buddy. Don’t forget that. As for the big gesture, you’re responsible for the family’s assets in the United States, am I right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be hard for you to figure something out.”

  “True. I can definitely think of something that will blow his socks off.”

  “Good.”

  I thanked Nate and ended the call. “I guess I’ll be staying here after all.”

  In an effort to win Quin over, I decided to surprise him with dinner. I rummaged through the pantry and grabbed a handful of stuff like pasta, tomato sauce, and aged Parmesan cheese. Something that Adley would also be into. I was horrible in the kitchen, but spaghetti with meat sauce sounded like a challenge I was about to conquer. I Googled the recipe on my phone and even watched a YouTube video. It all seemed so simple and easy. Fifteen minutes later, I was happily boiling the pasta and making the sauce. Defrosting the frozen minced meat was a disaster. I popped it into the microwave for a few minutes, and it exploded everywhere. I opened the microwave door to a murder scene. There was blood and soggy meat everywhere. The walls were splattered with mince, and everything was just one big, disgusting mess. I rushed to clean it up and forgot all about the spaghetti. It ended up being horrible and overcooked. “Shit!”

  I drained the ruined pasta and heard the faint click of the front door. Quin was back.

  “What on earth happened in here?” he said. He was referring to the mess I left behind. There were pots and pans everywhere and tomato sauce boiling over the stove. “Shit! I forgot the sauce.”

  I hurriedly shut off the stove and stared at the fucking mess I made. So much for cooking dinner.

  “Greg, I thought I told you to leave, not wreak havoc in my kitchen.”

  “Jesus. Not again,” I muttered under my breath. “You get this straight, Quin! I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me? Now hand me my sunshine. I’ve had enough crap for one day.”

  I took Adley from him and tickled her tummy. “I missed you so much, baby girl.”

  She giggled and called me daddy again. Daddy, not Gag. I knew it wasn’t a fluke.

  I glanced over at Quin and noticed the worried look on his face. I finally understood the cause behind it. If only he took my word at face value. Instead, he allowed my past to drive this wedge between us. It was frustrating and disheartening. “I promise I won’t leave, Quin. Just give us another chance. Is it too much to ask?”

  Quin simply shook his head and told me I’ll have no choice but to leave. Whatever that meant.

  Dinner was a silent affair. He ordered in some pizza, and we dined at the kitchen table. Afterward, he put Adley to bed while I cleaned up the kitchen. I rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher and wiped the counters clean. I also took care of the microwave and got rid of the ruined pasta.

  That night,
when it was time to hit the hay, Quin kicked me out of the bedroom. I was hoping I could change his mind with a blow job, maybe sex if he was in the right mood, but no. None of those options were on the table. “I was serious about us being friends only,” he spoke in a dead serious tone. “Friends without benefits. And as my friend, you can crash on the couch.”

  He shut the bedroom door behind him, leaving me standing there in my boxer shorts. “Seriously? Quin, I get it. I was rotten at commitment before, but right now, you’re being too much of a diva.”

  He opened the door and misled me into thinking that he had softened up somehow. Instead, he shoved a pillow and a folded bed sheet into my arms and told me to make up the sofa. “Good night,” he said before slamming the door in my face.

  Fuck. Maybe calling him a diva was the wrong thing to say. I dragged my ass to the living room and stared down at the messy sofa. “Shit.”

  I cleaned it using the upholstery vacuum cleaner and tucked the corners of my sheet under the cushions. I fluffed the pillow and finally climbed onto the sofa. Jet lag slowly crept up on me, so I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling. “What the hell? I don’t fucking need this. Lockridge Palace has sixty royal suites and guest rooms. I can even crash at any of our hotels, yet here I am, sleeping on a fucking couch. All because I’m in love with a man.”