by Grace Morgan
“Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”
“Hmm, I think you need to say it one more time…”
Epilogue
Burke
“I take thee, Lola.” I’m sweating through my suit. Lola is radiant in front of me. I want to kiss her right now, damn all the rites. But this wedding is important to her, so I restrain myself. “To be my wife…”
I’m glad now that I rehearsed the words as many times as I did, because I can barely process a thought as I stare into her beautiful eyes.
We’ve been together for one glorious year now. I knew a month in that I wanted to marry her, but I made myself wait to appear more reasonable. I never cared about appearances before I met Lola, but miracles happen and men change. It’s not the worst thing in the world to be thought of as respectable, no matter how much Carter likes to laugh at me these days.
Not that this wedding is entirely respectable—we’re holding it in Second Circle after all. But it’s close enough to respectable to be shocking for someone like me to participate.
Lola says her vows, and I try to listen but I’m overwhelmed by the moment. I want the ceremony to be over so that I can rip that wedding dress right off her and consummate our marriage in the new bed Carter got us as a wedding present.
I think it was a joke. It squeaks loudly with every move made on it. I fully intend on using it until Carter rues the day he ever gave it to us and wants to stab out his own eardrums.
We didn’t invite many wedding guests. Most of my friends work at Second Circle, and so do most of Lola’s these days. Her friend Lainey is her maid of honor. She has the most over-the-top ridiculous fuchsia bridesmaid dress I’ve ever seen. I haven’t quite worked up the courage to ask Lola whether or not it’s ironic yet.
“…may kiss the bride.”
Finally. I sweep Lola into my arms and slam my lips down on hers until she moans against my mouth. I’ve changed plenty, but I have no intention of stopping my displays of exactly how sexy I find my wife in public. I can hardly believe I seduced this beautiful woman into becoming mine forever. For months after she moved in, I’d wake up in a cold sweat, thinking I’d dreamed her.
I was very glad that I hadn’t.
I pull back from the kiss so Lola can get some air. She grins up at me. “You may kiss the bride again,” she says.
God, I love this woman.
* * *
About the Author
Grace Morgan is a Midwestern girl who kicked off her snow boots and ran west to the land of sunshine and flip flops. You can find her sipping cocktails with her girl posse, going on epically bad blind dates, and pretending to be prim and proper while she dreams up steamy scenes, alpha bad boys, and sassy heroines.
Connect with Grace Morgan
www.twitter.com/gracemauthor
https://www.facebook.com/gracemorganauthor
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/39428618-grace-morgan
Also by Grace Morgan
Wild Lust
Coming Soon
Warning: Wild Lust is one hell of a hot, hard ride that may leave you breathless, panting, and begging for more. Dive into the first volume of this steamy new three part series about the sexiest fucking lawyers in the State of Texas. Are you ready to get wild with the men of Wild Crown McDermott West?
Quid pro quo.
Macey Stuart didn’t have to take Latin to know that you never get something for nothing. She makes a deal with the devil to save her family farm, and in the process she steps into Lucifer’s den. But before she makes good on her end of the bargain, she wants one night to just let go completely, and what better place than Second Circle, Austin’s most mysterious sex club?
Everything’s bigger in Texas.
And everything includes Lucas Wild’s sexual appetite. One night at Second Circle with Macey leaves him desperate for more. And if he weren’t about to negotiate the biggest deal of his legal career, he’d track her down and bury himself balls deep in the hottest fuck of his life for a second night. And a maybe a third. And a fourth.
Just when he thinks his mystery woman is a lost cause, fate hands him a second chance, and he’s not about to let her slip away without having her moaning beneath him again.
Sneak Preview
His Plaything by Ava Jackson
Warning: If you can't handle a Navy SEAL with a filthy mouth, and a huge cock who wants to turn you into his plaything, this isn't the book for you. Carry on.
An ass you could bounce a quarter off of.
That’s the sight that greets me of my new roommate as he fucks a blonde on the kitchen table.
That’s right before I get an eyeful of his giant cock. Cue wet panties.
Oh, and did I mention he’s a Navy SEAL?
One semester. That’s as long as I have to last—and then I’m gone, graduated, off into the real world.
But can I survive that long without becoming … his plaything?
Chapter 1
Nixon
I had planned on enjoying my fall vacation to the fullest. As soon as I touched down at Coronado Island, I’d ordered greasy Chinese and slept like a rock. Then I went to Trader Joe's and restocked my fridge—all the best food and beer I couldn't get on active duty. Later I might meet Fox and Logan for basketball, bar-hopping, or whatever the hell we felt like doing. I would enjoy some sweet solitude, too, just kicking back in the blessed silence and privacy of my own condo. And of course, I would re-acquaint myself with all the finest pieces of ass in San Diego County. It was going to be fucking perfect.
Then my father shot everything to hell in a single phone call.
“Avery is going to live here? Starting today?” No way I'd heard that right. I shifted the phone to my shoulder so I could hold the frying pan handle with one hand and flip bacon with the other. “You can't be serious, Dad. I just got off a nine-month tour of duty.”
“Oh, you're on leave? Perfect. That means you can help her move in.”
I held back a growl. He knew damn well what my schedule looked like. I'd practically just gotten back from visiting him and his new wife at Wild Cliffs. And I was deploying again in two months, for fuck's sake. Was a little personal time really so much to ask?
At my long, sullen silence, Dad's tone dropped. “Nixon. You will be polite to Avery. You will take care of her. In fact, you will make sure that her last semester at UCSD is her best one. Are we clear?”
“Crystal, sir.” I tried and failed to suppress some very distracting mental images. I'd take damn good care of her, all right.
“If I hear that you haven't shown her proper hospitality…”
Dad harangued on and on, but I wasn't listening anymore. All I could picture was the princess I'd met two weeks ago, sleeping and showering and undressing just one thin wall away.
My first impression of Avery had been mouthwatering. Pure, polished sugar candy, begging to be unwrapped, melted on my tongue, and devoured whole. The high-maintenance fashionista types usually weren't worth my time—too prissy to know how to really get dirty or too stuck-up to even want to learn. But that didn't stop me from wanting to fuck Her Majesty six ways from Sunday. So what if she was technically my new stepsister? If the way her eyes had followed me around the ranch meant anything, she didn't care about that little detail, either.
A wisp of acrid smoke stung my nose. Shit, the bacon. I yanked the pan off the burner and started transferring the charred strips to a plate.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” Dad snapped.
“Yeah. Be nice to Avery. Gotta go, Dad. Someone's at the door,” I lied. I hung up before he could start repeating himself and sat down at the breakfast bar to eat. I loved my father as much as any grown son did, but how Ford could still live under his roof, I had no idea. At least my commanding officers let me run my private life as I saw fit.
I picked up a strip of bacon to find it already getting cold. Maybe I had cranked the AC a little too high. On the other hand, August in southern California
was no joke, and I'd had enough of desert heat during my last tour. My thoughts drifted back to Miss Priss. With this weather and my luck, she'd probably show up looking like a walking felony. Tight little jean shorts hugging her tight little ass. Perky tits almost spilling out the sides of a halter-top, nipples hardening as she stepped into the cold indoor air…
Jesus Christ, it's been way too long. My imagination was running out of control. I needed to get some pussy fast, before my new roommate pranced in here, and I drove myself insane. Fortunately, that wouldn't be hard. Women who creamed their panties over SEALs were a dime a dozen in this town … and one in particular lived in the condo right next door.
I scrolled down my Contacts menu to the “frog hog – home edition” entry and fired off a quick text: Hey, Pam. Long time, no fuck. You as horny as I am?
It wasn’t classy, but Pam didn’t require or appreciate finesse.
Barely five minutes later, my phone chimed back: Don't start without me, Sailor Boy. ;)
I chuckled to myself. Pam was one of the most reliable fuck buddies I'd ever had. Unless she was at work, she never hesitated to come over and help me take the edge off. God bless America.
Just as I had tracked down a few condoms, someone knocked at the door. I opened it and immediately got an armful of Pam. Her full lips crashed against mine. Her hands snaked around my waist and down to squeeze my ass.
I indulged in our hungry kiss for a moment, tongue delving into her mouth, then pulled back with a smirk. “I take it you missed me, too.”
“You have no idea,” she breathed. Without further ado, she strutted over to the dining room table and bent to take off her stilettos, knowing that my eyes were glued to her toned curves. She was still in her work uniform: a tight black miniskirt and referee-stripe blouse whose neckline plunged just short of indecent exposure. It was no mystery why she made so much money from tips. There were a lot of local guys who came to Pete's Sports Bar just to ogle the waitresses, and blonde, buxom, leggy Pam was the main attraction.
I threw the front door shut behind me, not wanting to miss the way her juicy ass wiggled as she undid her shoe's straps. “Damn, you’ve got a fine ass,” I commented.
Tossing me a sultry look over her shoulder, she gave a throaty chuckle. “Thanks, babe. It's a tired ass. Just got off an all-night shift.”
“Oh? Do you want to reschedule?” I teased, already stalking toward her. “I can pencil you in for next Friday.”
“No chance in hell.” She turned and sat on the dining room table, spreading her knees to reveal a lacy black thong. “I've always got energy for my favorite SEAL. Especially after you've been gone so long.” Her hand trailed up her flat stomach to her cleavage, undoing the buttons one by one, revealing the huge, round tits barely contained by her bra.
Holy mother of God. A luscious sight like that hadn't graced my eyes in way too many months, and it was almost enough to make me drool. Well, two can play at that game. I pulled off my T-shirt and didn't miss her leer of appreciation.
She licked her cherry-painted lips. “Get over here and fuck me.”
“Hey, just because I make my living taking orders doesn't mean you're in charge here.” Grinning, I stepped between her legs and pushed her flat on her back, rocking my hips to let her feel how hard I was.
She moaned and squirmed against me. “Smartass. What if I sucked your cock first?”
I drew in a harsh breath despite myself. What red-blooded man could turn down a BJ from a bombshell like Pam? Besides, it was probably for the best. After months of nothing but jerking off, my stamina wouldn't be up to par right away—and I was more than capable of getting hard for two rounds in a row. I nodded at her. “In that case, I might let it slide. Just this once.”
She immediately wriggled down between me and the table, onto her knees. Staring up at me through her full, sooty lashes, brazen and seductive, she unzipped my jeans and pulled out my rock hard cock. She held the base with one hand and licked a slow stripe up to the tip, circling her tongue around the head. My hips stuttered. I braced myself on the table with one hand and tangled the other in her hair—just as she dove her whole mouth down.
I gave a long, loud groan. Pam always sucked my dick like she was trying to pull the life out of me. At this rate, I was going to come any second. And that was exactly what she wanted. Her cheeks hollowed and she bobbed her head faster, tightening her grip. Her tongue flickered right at the sensitive spot where the head met the shaft. She cupped my balls with her free hand, and I swore out loud.
Out of nowhere, an image of Avery popped into my head. Heat rushed through me like a bolt of lightning. My stepsister's peach-soft lips would look amazing sealed around my cock. Her lashes would flutter as she sneaked shy glances up at my face, wanting to make sure she'd pleased me, wanting so badly to taste my cum, oh fuck, oh—
Before I knew it, I was coming hard. Pam dug her fake nails into my thighs and swallowed every drop. Then, without missing a beat, she pulled off her panties and lay back down on the table with legs spread. Two fingers slipped down to tease her clit, taunting me with my own private peepshow. “Hurry up or I'll finish the job myself,” she moaned.
I shook my head, trying to dispel that disorienting, enticing image of Avery on her knees in front of me. “No way I'll let you have all the fun,” I replied. I grabbed Pam's wrists with one hand, pushing up her blouse with the other. I licked and kneaded her firm tits until she writhed with anticipation, making wordless pleading noises that flashed straight down my spine. That familiar ache of hardness was quickly creeping into my cock again. I kicked off my pants, pulled a condom out of my pocket, and rolled it on.
I didn't waste time with any more foreplay; she had been soaked from the moment she walked in here, and God knew I couldn't stand to wait another second. I just pushed her knees up to her shoulders and slammed home. “Yes! Jesus!” she screamed.
I thrust in fast and deep, fucking her in a way that guaranteed she’d still be feeling me tomorrow. Her tits bounced as she struggled to meet my thrusts. Her cunt was so hot and wet and unbelievably eager, grasping my cock like it never wanted to let go. I hadn't realized how much I'd craved this until I tasted it again. I bent my head to bite at her huge, round breasts that wobbled so enticingly in my face. Avery's tits would probably be smaller, but perkier to make up for it. Her skin would be pale instead of tanned, showing every mark I sucked into her skin.
Too late, I caught myself. Goddammit! Why couldn't I keep Avery out of my head? I couldn't stop imagining what she'd look like beneath me, couldn't stop superimposing her face over Pam's. Every time I pushed away one thought of her, two more popped up.
Why the fuck was Avery crashing here so suddenly, anyway? Why did she have to invade every aspect of my life? I guess I'll have to ask her that when she arrives. For now I just growled into Pam's mouth, our sloppy kiss smearing her bright lipstick, and tried my damnedest to chase away the fantasy of my gorgeous new stepsister.
