by Nikki Chase
I lose myself in him. Just as promised, he’s gentle, only stroking my hair and gripping the sheets, but I want more. I tease him, working his shaft relentlessly, trying to get him to come, and soon, I hear him draw in a sharp breath and start to push me away.
I obey, slowly running the tip of my tongue up his shaft and all the way to the tip. I smile at the strained, delighted look on his face.
“Fuck,” he groans, “I missed this. And I missed you,” he says, getting onto his knees and gently pushing me onto my back.
I let him, offering no resistance as he strips me naked and looks down at my body with hunger in his intense eyes. He doesn’t want to wait around any longer than I do.
He carefully picks up my legs and perches his wet cock against my pussy, then he slowly slides into me. Even though he’s being gentle, his strong hands have complete control over me, gripping my hips as he works his way in. His head falls back, and I look up at the strong, gorgeous man enjoying every second of my body and every inch of my pussy.
He starts to rock back and forth, and I reach up to feel his ripped abs and cut sides as he works, slowly moving in and out of me, really feeling everything we have to offer each other. He lowers his hands to my head, cupping my face and pressing a kiss to my lips. One hand fondles my stiff nipples as he thrusts into me. Gradually, he picks up his speed.
He’s so gentle and strong at the same time, and as our tongues dance and his hand holds the back of my head, I feel close to him—closer than I’ve ever felt to anyone.
He starts to move faster and faster, almost frantically, but he’s never too rough. My muscles clench around him, gripping him, and I feel his cock throb inside me, desperate for release.
“I want to feel you,” I moan against his mouth. “Give me everything you’ve been saving up, Ben.”
He opens his eyes and looks into mine, letting himself lose control, as my body tenses up. In a single beautiful moment, we come together, exploding against each other as our momentum keeps us moving to the same rhythm. He growls as our orgasms run their course.
Moment by moment, our bliss smooths out, and we’re left staring into each other’s eyes. His cock is still stiff in me, and we don’t plan on moving any time soon.
We’re as close as we can get physically. We have each other in every way possible. And we’re only going to grow even stronger together.
Ben
One Year Later
It’s been a full year since Claire’s car accident, and I’ve spent every possible moment with her.
They say the honeymoon period in a relationship doesn’t last very long, but I’ve never understood that. Every day waking up next to Claire has felt like meeting her again for the first time. And even now, every time we’re close, I can’t keep my hands off her for long.
I make my way through the restaurant and listen to the soft music filling the rooms. As my employees pass me, busily tending to the evening’s work, I get the occasional smile and respectful nod.
Things have been going well for months now, and frankly, I have Claire to thank for that.
Unlearning old habits isn’t something that happens overnight.
I’ve been trying to quash my need to control every aspect of our relationship and her job, and that’s just the beginning. Self-improvement is addictive to me now, and Claire has been with me every step of the way.
Some habits die hard, and I don’t think that domineering edge will ever be gone from me entirely, but I’ve learned day by day to step back, delegate, and handle the issues that actually matter, rather than trying to juggle everything myself.
In fact, now that I’m spending less time trying to nitpick what my staff is doing, I’ve had a lot more time to network.
That means chatting up important diners, including some powerful local politicians who are quickly making Ocotillo their go-to destination for business dinners.
It also means connecting with other restaurants, especially those owned and operated by Vegas locals. I’ve arranged multiple events where we support each other in a collaborative dining environment for charity events and foreign delegates alike.
Ocotillo is rising to statewide prominence like never before.
Tonight, however, is a little more special. The whole restaurant is reserved for a private event, open only to the staff and their family.
I’ve spent the past half-hour touring the restaurant and getting to know each and every one of my staff members’ close relatives. I keep the wine flowing and the conversation happy, and it warms my heart to see my employees mingling and talking to each other while a skeleton crew in the kitchen—paid double for volunteering to work on a night like this—works hard to keep the magic going.
While chatting to my manager Nathan’s eccentric sister, the front door swings open again, and Taylor Hersch, the television host who featured Ocotillo in his show over a year ago, makes his way in.
It’s strange seeing him without all the makeup and fancy clothes they put him in for TV, but he’s been around a bit as a diner so I’m slowly getting used to the real Taylor. We exchange a quick wave, and I excuse myself from my conversation to hurry back to the kitchens.
“Hey, Jorge?” I call, sticking my head into the kitchen.
Chef Alonso is directing a few of the cooks, looking more relaxed than usual, a smile on his face. He and I have gotten to be fast friends over the months, especially since being able to back off and let him flourish the way he was meant to.
He turns his head and raises an eyebrow at me. “Something wrong?”
“On the contrary,” I say, “just wanted to let you know your boyfriend is here. I’m guessing he’ll be at his usual seat with a view to the kitchen. He likes dry reds, right?”
Jorge’s face splits into a big grin, and he hurries over to the kitchen window to give Taylor a wave while the big man takes his seat.
“Si,” he replies to me with a wink, “a chianti would go well with what I’ve got in mind for him.” To say the two of them hit it off since I got him another interview on Taylor’s show would be an understatement.
I put the wine order in, then make my way back out to the restaurant floor and weave through the diners to the table that really has my attention for the night.
Sitting by a window with a beautiful view of the new gardens out front, Claire and all four of our parents are chatting happily with one another, probably about a trip to Costa Rica we have planned for next month. That’s been the hottest topic of discussion lately, but I’m going to give them something new to get excited about tonight—assuming everything goes well, of course.
Claire is dressed in the most gorgeous blue and gold dress I’ve ever seen, shoulders bare and makeup perfect. It was a struggle to get her to agree not to work tonight, but I wasn’t the only one insisting—Jorge told her she’d be cleaning out the grease trap if she didn’t take the night off, which is incentive enough to get anyone to listen.
“There he is now,” my dad says as I approach.
Claire’s eyes light up at the sight of me. “Finished your rounds?”
“Almost,” I say, winking to Claire. “Just have this one table of five who won’t stay out of my way.” The group laughs at the joke, and I take Claire’s hand, giving it a gentle kiss. I add, “And a quick announcement to make.”
“Going to do the speech thing?” Claire asks.
“Definitely going to do the speech thing,” I reply.
I told Claire last night I’d probably get all sappy and make a toast during this event. Fortunately, she doesn't know the half of it.
I pick up a glass and tap it softly with a fork until the restaurant quiets down table by table, turning to look over at me as I stand in front of Claire’s table.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I say with a warm smile to everyone assembled, “I really can’t tell you how incredible it is to have you all gathered here tonight. What we’ve accomplished at Ocotillo is something that every single one of you should be proud of, be
cause whether you’ve been here from the start or just got roped into this crazy scam,” I pause for brief laughter, “you’re the ones who make this place happen. Every chef working here, every server handing out drinks, and every manager going gray at the temples trying to juggle it all,” I add, making Nathan’s table laugh.
I stick a hand in my pocket, stroking my chin as the mood turns more somber. “All of us are here for a reason, and all of us have stuck around for a reason. For me, this all started out as a plan to make damn good food, plain and simple. But things don’t ever stay simple.”
“It’s no secret to any of you that Claire Madsen means the world to me,” I say, turning to Claire with a smile, reaching down and taking her hand in mine, slowly pulling her to her feet as her lips part in surprise. “But she’s more than the world to me, really.
“Claire, you’re the reason I get up every morning. You’re why I work so hard to keep this place running smoothly, and you’re the thought that brings a smile to my face every day I get to know you more, each day we learn from each other.” I have to pause, because I feel a lump in my throat that I swallow back before locking gazes with Claire, tears rimming both of our eyes. “You’re my best friend, Claire. And I want to keep building our future together, forever.”
My heart racing, I take out the ring box in my pocket, and as Claire’s hands go to her mouth, I get down on one knee, opening it up and presenting her with a blue diamond ring—our parents helped me pick it out and they think it’s beautiful; I hope Claire likes it too..
“Claire, will you marry me?” The words are barely out of my mouth when Claire falls on me, hugging me tight and staining my cheek with tears.
“Of course I will, Ben!” she says, nearly sobbing.
The gasps around the room turn into applause as I stand up, holding Claire in my arms and kissing her deeply. Through the applause, Claire’s mom’s cheering is louder than all, and our parents have the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen on their faces. No doubt they’re ecstatic about this, and I’m sure they’re relieved they no longer have to keep this proposal plan a secret.
I cup Claire’s face in my hands, smiling down at her as my love for her expands and fills my heart almost to the point of bursting, it feels like.
“I love you, Claire,” I whisper, just to her. “I’m going to love you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“Damn right you will,” she says, and we laugh as she hugs me so tight my back pops, and that laughter gets harder as we hold each other in a loving embrace.
This is how it’s going to be, from here on out. Each day brighter than the last.
Epilogue
Claire
“Are you ready, honey?”
I never thought I’d be hearing those words from my dad this soon in my life, but they mean so much to me that I almost start crying right there in front of the doors. He puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles warmly at me.
I sniff, fighting back tears for the sake of my makeup. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks, Daddy.”
“Let’s get out there and knock ‘em dead, Claire,” he says, making me smile.
“Let’s do this,” Tessa says, giving me a wink as she takes her place in front of me.
A moment later, the doors of the chapel open slowly. When the Wedding March starts playing, it hits me like an arrow through the heart.
This is the day.
Walking down the aisle feels so much more intense than I ever thought it could be. My dad’s arm around mine as we make our way to the altar feels both light and heavy at the same time—maybe it’s just because of how dizzy I am. I look to my left and right and see all our friends and family gathered together, smiles on every face and tears in more than a few eyes. I match Tessa’s steps, thankful I don’t have to worry about my tempo, on top of everything else.
Beyond the crowds, glass walls on every side of the the chapel displays lush greeneries like a reverse jewel box. I’ve always wanted to get married in shows off the gorgeous forests all around us.
People outside the Southwest never realize how much green spills over the mountains down here, and those of our friends and family not from around here have been wowed from the moment they arrived. My mom managed to book the place in advance, thanks to a few strings pulled, and I couldn’t be happier for it.
Each step I take feels like I’m walking on clouds. Ben’s mom helped me pick out the perfect dress, and it hugs my body perfectly—it’s not half as stuffy as I always worried a wedding dress might be.
And at the far end of the aisle, Ben is waiting.
Growing up and thinking about my wedding day, all I’ve ever been able to worry about is the practical side of things—whether there would be a problem getting the right venue, whether catering would be on time and tasty, whether I’d have any trouble shopping for dresses, whether my hair would spontaneously catch fire and burn down the whole chapel . . . but I rarely spent any time thinking about the groom. Something about that unexpectedness is what makes it impossible for me to keep the tears from rolling down my face to wet my smiling lips.
Ben looks gorgeous—even more so than he usually does.
His black suit fits his cut, muscular form perfectly, and he stands at the altar looking like a statue that would make a Renaissance sculptor jealous. His body is in perfect condition, his face is clean-shaven, and his hair is cut so immaculately that it’s hard to believe he’s a real person.
But he’s more than real—he’s my Ben.
The look on his face melts my heart. He’s such a strong, decisive man, that seeing him anxious over the wedding has been adorable.
Now, though, all that anxiety is gone.
The rest of the chapel might as well be empty. It’s just the two of us and a meaningless stretch of distance between us. We get lost in each other’s eyes as I approach him, and the organ music playing in the background almost seems muffled.
All I can focus on is Ben, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he feels the same way. He’s taking in the sight of me—the white dress, the veil that obscures my face . . . Maybe he’s pondering his own childhood ideas about his wedding.
The walk to the altar goes by in a blur, and suddenly I’m standing in front of the man I love. Staring at him, I can’t help but feel gratitude fill my chest so fully it’s a struggle to breathe. I couldn’t have dreamed up anyone like Ben.
Both of us nearly lose it when we hear the minister say the words we’re sure he’s recited over a million times, then he turns to Ben with a warm smile. “The bride and groom have prepared their own vows to exchange.”
Ben takes a deep breath. He reaches for a piece of paper in his jacket, but then tucks it away and beams at me. My heart jumps to my throat.
“Claire,” he says in a thick tone. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t know what I did to be so lucky as to cross paths with you. You’ve changed my life in a way I never could have expected, and I never want us to stop changing our lives together. I’ve become a better person through you, I’ve laughed with you, and I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you more times than I can count.”
Even as I laugh softly with the audience, tears are flowing freely down my face, and I’m thanking heaven for waterproof mascara.
“You’re more than the world to me, Claire. You’re my everything. And everything is what I want to live with you. I vow to be your husband. I vow to grow with you, learn with you, be your best friend through whatever life throws at us, and above all . . . I vow to love you as long as life gives us time.”
I’m so choked up I can barely think, much less speak, but I manage to find my voice after a few moments. I take the tissue that Tessa, my matron of honor, offers me, dabbing my eyes dry.
“Ben...I still can’t believe this is real. You’ve changed everything I ever hoped to expect out of life and made it so much brighter that I can’t even believe it’s all happening. I couldn’t be more happy. If the past year and some change have taught me anything, it’s that we
’re better together. There are people kinder than us, there are people wiser than us, and there are people who’ll be more romantic than us, and even with all that in front of me, I wouldn’t dream of standing right here with anyone else in the universe but you.
“I vow to be your wife. I vow to support you when times are hard the way you support me, and I vow to give you twice as much happiness as you’ve given me in the time we’ve known each other. That means I’ll be busy for the rest of my life and then some.”
Kayleigh, the little daughter of Tessa and her husband Luke, makes her way up to the altar as our little ring-bearer. It might have been unconventional, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d do a better job, and the look on Tessa’s crying face is worth it— especially since their baby boy, Kevin, is back at home.
We exchange the rings. I’ve never been happier to have a piece of jewelry on my finger, and my smile grows wider when I see the gold band curled around Ben’s finger—a permanent sign that he’s mine and always will be.
The minister takes a deep breath and speaks again. “By the power invested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
By the time the word kiss is halfway out of the minister’s mouth, Ben has already grabbed me and yanked me in for a passionate, emotional kiss that makes my heart flutter as he bends me backward. Cheers break out all around us.
This is us.
Now and forever.
And I couldn’t be happier.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Claire and Ben’s story.
To read Tessa and Luke’s story, check out Accidental Husband.
You can also read Brock’s story (with his assistant-slash-friend’s-sister) in Accidentally Engaged.
Or, to binge on my books, get one of my box sets . . . or two. ;)
Like all my other titles, they’re launched at $0.99 before going up to full price. So if you check them out at the right time, you might still be able to take advantage of the promotional price.
