“I’m almost ready,” I say, adjusting my top. Sure, I’m singing a pop song on my wedding day, and sure I’m doing it in front of a ton of people who have seen me shake my ass in a lot less, but that’s what’s going to make this special. I fidget with the long skirt, tugging on my garter. That’ll come after the song, and I’ve already promised Nathan that I’d have Jake try to toss it in his direction. He is my business and investment manager, after all. “How are Mom and Grandma?”
“Grandma’s happy as hell that you banned Bertha from the church and the reception,” Mindy says with a laugh. “John’s consoling Mom, but she’ll be fine. Hey, you sure you want to do this before the cake cutting and all of that other stuff?”
“Why?”
“Well, it is kind of untraditional,” Mindy says, turning red when I give her a raised eyebrow. “Okay, okay. I know, I’m the last person in the world to talk about non-traditional. But a musical revue before the reception begins?”
“The reason is simple,” I say with a chuckle. “Once that cake is cut and the champagne starts to flow, I plan on dancing my ass off with my husband and then seeing if we can get to some baby making.”
“Planning kids already?”
I nod. “You know that Jake and family are more important to me than my singing. Although, Club Jasmine would flip the fuck out if I made an announcement that I’m pregnant.”
Mindy laughs and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Roxy. I’ll go take my seat.”
Mindy leaves, and I quickly warm up my voice. There’s no need to stretch out. This performance is like only one other, and I’m quickly ready. I nod to John, who gives me his quiet little smile and nod before he opens the door and I enter the reception hall.
All the lights are off, the only illumination coming from dual spotlights, one on me, one on Jake as he sits in a chair in the middle of the dance floor. The tune is familiar but slowed down, acoustic as I start singing. “It was too long, I had to get out, hitting up the new spot with my girl.”
Of course, I adjust the lyrics just for this performance. Jake smiles as I serenade him, and there’s a few whistles when I straddle his waist, the high slits on my skirt allowing me to do so. “Heartstopper, Heartstopper, can you feel it in my chest? Heartstopper, my husband, showing me the best, your touch is electric, I was yours from the start. You gave it to me, baby, and now you have my heart.”
Jake pulls me closer and kisses me tenderly, his fingertips just resting on the curve of my jaw as our assembled friends and family applaud. I can hear my old friend from Trixie’s, Brad, in the background blowing his nose, his distinctive lisp reaching out over the crowd as he cheers me on, “Yaass bitch! Work it!”
The reception starts, and true to my promise, Nathan catches the garter and Hannah gets to catch the bouquet. Later, I’m stunned as the caterer brings out a five-foot-tall cake. “What is this?”
“This is your stepfather insisting that he gets to do something for you,” John says from the far side of Mom, smiling. “Enjoy.”
There’s enough cake for triple the amount of people who are there, and I make the caterer promise that they’re going to send large chunks home with everybody who works at the hall today. I just can’t imagine seeing this much cake go to waste.
Speeches are hilarious, as everyone from Grandma on down has something to toast me with, and I’m quickly left red-faced as Brad tells everyone about my first time in Trixie’s. “So here was this sassy little thing getting up there and doing the world’s worst twerk and singing her ass off. Thankfully, she had two things going for her. First, she could actually sing. Second, and more importantly, she had me to show her how to move her ass. Jake, you can thank me later, and Nathan, I want my one percent!”
The dancing starts with another surprise, as Jake says he’s got something special for me too. Oliver and Gavin get up as well as they set up three chairs in the middle of the floor in a wide triangle. “My bride, will you, Mindy, and Brianna have a seat, please?”
I glance at Mindy and Brianna, but they’re clueless as we sit down. Jake, Oliver, and Gavin disappear for a minute, and I start to get worried when the lights dim again and the music starts.
“Oh, my God,” I groan as I hear the familiar grinding electronic bass beat. “They’re not.”
“They sure as hell are!” Brianna says as Jake, Gavin, and Oliver come out dressed as male strippers. They’ve got the moves down pretty well too, and Magic Mike is left in the dust as Jake grinds on me, turning around to rub his ass in my lap before taking my hands and making me grab his crotch. My body’s on fire by the time he moves off, and I feel sweat trickling down my neck to disappear between my breasts as the three guys reach for the waistbands of their banana hammocks before stopping and giving the three of us naughty smiles. Jake shakes his head, and the three of them dance for us a little more, Gavin actually hitting the splits. “Whoa, I didn’t know he could do that!”
“It’s useful,” Brianna says, her voice sounding breathy as Gavin bounces back up. The song comes to an end, and while the three of us heartily applaud, Brad is having a fit behind us. I bet he’s thinking he’s died and gone to heaven watching the three handsome men.
Dinner starts, and as we eat, I lean over to Jake. “So tell me, my husband, just what inspired that?”
Jake chuckles. “Well, the guys knew you were going to sing for me, and they wanted to return the favor. Unfortunately, we all know that Gavin and Oli—”
“Those two boys can’t sing to save their lives!” Grandma cackles.
After dinner, the dancing starts, and I feel like I’m in heaven as Jake takes me in his arms and we have our first dance as husband and wife. “So when did you know?”
Jake thinks, then smiles. “I knew I wanted you long-term the first time you sang Heartstopper for me. But marry you? When I first heard you on the radio. It was like from that instant, it wasn’t just about giving you your dream. That was when I realized you are my dream. I’d do any and everything possible to stay by your side, to have you with me. I knew I wanted to be more. I wanted to be your husband.”
“You waited another two months to ask me, though,” I tease as we slow dance.
“I wanted to have a chance to ask you on stage,” he says, grinning. “Took the workers that long to complete the repairs.”
“I—” my eyes are drawn over to a commotion where someone’s trying to teach Grandma how to breakdance.
Jake takes my chin in his fingers and turns my eyes back to him. “Hey, I thought I was doing a good enough job of dancing?”
I feel the thick bulge of his cock press up against my hip, and I tremble, grinning. “You do more than enough to keep my attention.”
“Cheers, you two,” says a voice behind us, and I turn to see Hannah standing there with several glasses in her hand, one of which she holds out to me.
“What’s that?” I ask, taking the glass from her.
“A little surprise,” Hannah says behind a little sip. She gives Jake a look. “Can I talk to your bride for a moment? I know y’all were getting your bump n’ grind on, but it will only take a sec.”
Jake chuckles, stepping away. “Sure.”
Hannah winks at him as I give her a playful scowl over the rim of my drink. “This had better be good for sending my husband away like that.”
“I’ve decided to quit my job at Franklin,” Hannah announces suddenly, causing me to gawk in shock. “I just . . . watching you, Roxy, I realize I want to be more than an office drone too. And with you gone, it just isn’t fun anymore. I’ve already talked to the landlord. I’m gonna move out and downsize to something more affordable, chase my dream.”
“What is it?” I ask, and Hannah grins.
“Not too sure yet, but I’ve always wanted to travel the world and take pictures. Maybe I’ll figure it out along the way. I’ve managed to square away a little nest egg until I get it sorted out, I think.”
I raise my glass, and we toast each other.
“Well, then, to Hannah Fowler, who’s going to be the sassiest bitch traveling the globe.”
“And to Roxy Stone, who’s the baddest bitch on stage. I love you, babe.”
I sip my drink and look across the floor. Jake has already found a new dancing partner in his sister, Sophie. She looks gorgeous in her pink gown, her arms wrapped around her brother’s neck, staring up at him with love. I can’t hide the smile on my face. I’m never going to be her mother, but big sister? I feel like that already.
“I love you too, babe,” I say, returning my gaze to Hannah. “And hey, don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Damn right. I’m couch surfing with a pop star!”
I laugh and take a longer sip of my drink. “Yeah, well, this pop star is going to finish her drink and then find her husband so she can go consummate this union. You’ll never guess what we’re taking to the honeymoon.”
“What?” Hannah asks, and I grin.
“I’ll send you pics,” I say, giving her a wink.
At that moment, the music cranks up. Unlike the normal moldy mix of old pop classics that are ‘safe’ for some of the older crowd to listen to, Jake and I flew in our DJ from Club Jasmine, and as the bass fills the floor, we’ve got plenty getting down and dirty. This is my wedding, after all, and I give absolutely zero fucks if someone doesn’t like it.
Laughing, I stand there, bobbing my body to the music, watching the room as Hannah waltzes off in search of a dancing buddy. I’ll let Jake get in a few more moments with his sister, knowing that after they’re done, he’s mine for the night.
For the next several minutes, my heart is filled as I take in all the people I love under one roof, having the time of their lives. Mom is dancing with John, Brianna with Gavin, and Mindy with Oliver. Even Hannah has finally found a guy to grind on, Oliver’s younger brother, Tony. It’s weird. They don’t even know each other, but they look like they’re having a good time together.
All feels right with the world.
Feeling like it’s time, I make my way over to my husband, desire heating my core. Jake looks up and separates from Sophie as I approach, a giant grin on his face.
“Hey, Jake, you big stud,’ I say softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Take me to bed or lose me forever.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Jake pulls me closer, growling lightly as he sweeps me off my feet, and to the hoots, hollers, and cheers of our family and friends, he carries me from the reception hall and into the rest of our lives.
Have you read all the current books in this series?
Book 1: Anaconda (Brianna & Gavin)
Book 2: Mr. Fiance (Mindy & Oliver)
Book 3: Heartstopper (Roxy & Jake)
Book 4: Scroll to the end to see the title, cover reveal, and a sneak peek!
Want the deleted scenes? Sign up to my mailing list to receive them :).
Off Limits
OFF LIMITS
She’s Daddy's little girl, but I’ll make her a rebel.
They call me a killer — a felon. I spent five years in a medium security sh*thole.
I swore I'd stay out of trouble, but when I met Abby Rawlings, all bets were off. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I had to have her.
But Daddy dearest is standing in my way. He thinks I'm no good for her, and he's declared her Off Limits.
Well, I don't give a damn. In the end, I'll make her mine...
**Off Limits is a full-length novel with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger!**
Chapter 1
Abby
"And so, as our country faces the challenges of a new generation, it’s still important for us to remember the values that brought us here. Hard work. Family. And most of all, our faith, both in each other and in God."
I tried not to sigh too much. I knew that it wasn't what Daddy would want. I hated this sort of political stuff, especially since I thought that the man speaking had absolutely no idea how to lead a dog pound, let alone a higher office. Still, my sigh caught Brittany's attention. She leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Abigail, come now. Try not to fidget so much."
"Brittany, nobody's paying attention to me. Everyone's paying attention to Greg," I replied, also keeping my voice low. I may not have wanted to be there, but I still was doing my best to respect Daddy's wishes. "He's the man of the hour."
"Still, people are going to look. And I've asked you before; in public, please call me Mother," Brittany said. Actually, she wasn't my real mother. Brittany Worthington-Rawlings had married my father when I was thirteen years old. After his first marriage was cut short by a traffic accident that took both my mother and my older sister's lives when I was three, Patrick Rawlings had raised me by himself for nearly eight years before marrying again—this time not so much for love, but for what could best be termed advantage. Tired of working so hard and still being stiffed by those in established families with society connections, Daddy married Brittany Worthington. From one of the long-established families in Atlanta, she'd fallen on hard times financially when her first husband had been convicted of insider trading and sentenced to five years in jail. She hadn't signed any sort of prenuptial, so their bank accounts and estate were considered one by the IRS and the SEC, which cleaned her and her family's hundred-year-old fortune out to the tune of tens of millions of dollars.
She hadn't exactly been living on the streets. People from Brittany's roots don't end up on the streets, but she had been forced into societal situations that she didn't want to be in, such as not going to the Master's Golf Tournament because she couldn’t afford to be even a basic patron.
For both of them, the marriage had been advantageous. At first, I'd been quietly opposed, because my daddy shouldn’t marry for anything but the most noble of intentions. I'd held my tongue, however, and I had to admit that as the years went on, they did seem to care for each other, even if there was never quite the amount of tenderness and affection I had seen in the old home videos of Daddy and Mom. Of course, both also got what they wanted, too. Daddy got access to the society connections that had eluded him for years, and Brittany got access to Daddy's bank account, free and clear of the government.
But, it never really seemed like she wanted to be the mother to a nearly teenage girl, and for that, she and I didn't really get along all that well. She never went to any of my school events, parent teacher conferences or anything of the sort. The only time my presence was really important was when she wanted me to grow into a young society woman that she could mold into the image she wanted. It was the last thing I wanted, but there wasn't much I could do about it.
Around the house, at least, we could avoid each other as we were three people living in a house that had five bedrooms along with ten acres of property. As long as we weren't in public, that suited both of us just fine. On the positive side, though, Daddy still kept a bit of his blue collar roots, and at least at home, he didn't mind if I acted like a bit of a tomboy. I could wear shorts and t-shirts and go hang out in the back yard however I wanted. On the weekends or when he had free time, Daddy and I would go riding our ATV's, go fishing at the river that ran through the back of the property, and all sorts of things that we both enjoyed.
In public, though, he let Brittany have a much freer hand in her critiques of how I acted. "Honey, I spent too many years breaking my back because too many people around these here parts still think who you know is more important than what you know. They'd let me build their houses, their office buildings, hell, even their country clubs, and they never let me inside, no matter how much money I had. These people have ways of doing things that I don't know, or perhaps I do, but I know that there's no way I could get through those ways on my own. Brittany does know, and she can get through, and I want you to learn from her. Because I’ll be damned if I'm going to let my daughter scrap and scrape the way I had to before you were born."
Regardless of the reason for his thoughts, Daddy didn't say anything as Brittany corrected me for the tenth tim
e that night. At least I didn't have a stepbrother or stepsister to go along with the whole deal, a sibling who would know all of the rules that I didn't—or did know but didn't want to follow. There was nobody my age, at least, to give me the hairy eyeball. That would have been too much.
"Abigail, you must learn the most basic lesson. In public, you’re always being watched, and you must always be watching as well," Brittany whispered, continuing her lesson. "For example, did you notice that Henrietta DeKalb has already drunk four glasses of wine during her husband's speech?"
Henrietta DeKalb, wife of Gregory DeKalb, was one of Brittany's frequent points of observation. There seemed to be some sort of long-term animosity between the women, but I never quite understood what it was. For all I knew, it stretched back generations. That was the way things ran in this level of society. Still, for all of Brittany's pointed commentary, I didn't really care if Henrietta was sucking down Old English Malt Liquor straight from the bottle, or if she was primly sipping Darjeeling from a china cup. I just didn't want to be there.
Unfortunately for me, Daddy's desire to be accepted into the upper crust of central Georgia society meant I had to endure such events on a much more frequent basis than I'd have liked. This night, we got to listen as Greg DeKalb gave a campaign speech in front of the *ahem* fraternal club that both he and Daddy now belonged to. Daddy had been accepted only after his marriage to Brittany. Greg was running for Governor in the next election, and he was certainly hitting up his cronies at the club for funds. While I saw nothing wrong with trying to get money from his friends, the dog and pony show that was this speech and dinner just dragged on my nerves. Seriously, why not just go around the golf course while shooting a round and ask for support? At least then I wouldn't have to sit through it.
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