Hard to Fall

by Marquita Valentine

  She glances down at her shirt, then back to me. “Is there something on my shirt?”

  “You’re not wearing a wedding ring.”

  “Neither are you,” she points out.

  “I plan to rectify that immediately.”

  “Me, too.” She smiles shyly at me, her brown eyes soft behind the lenses of her glasses. “My mom has my grandmother’s wedding ring and it’s mine if I want it.”

  “Can she overnight it to you?”

  “In a hurry, huh?” Her shy smile gives way to a flirtatious one.

  “Damn right I am.” I lean back in my chair. “I want to have everything in place before we meet my parents as a couple.”

  “Oh, right. I’ll text her once we’re done eating.” Saylor pushes around the rice on her plate.

  “Anything else you want to talk about?”

  “No.” She shakes her head at first, then stops before taking a deep breath. “Actually, there is something really important that we need to ah, sort out between us.”

  “Say no more. I’ve already given it some thought and meant to share it with you earlier.”

  Her eyes round. “You have, but how did you know?”

  “It’s pretty obvious that this would be something that could possibly cause problems between us.”

  She grabs my hand. “I don’t want it to come between us.”

  Pulling out of her grasp, I scoot my chair closer to hers and frame her face in my hands. “Stop worrying so much. I’m allowed to live within sixty miles of the Charlotte Municipal Building. The commute from Forrestville to downtown is killer, but I’d rather deal with it than you.”

  Her lips part, then her tongue comes out to lick her bottom lip. “Commute?”

  “To work. I’ll take the brunt of it until we can find a place in between…actually, I’d like a house closer to the animal shelter, because I really hate the thought of you stuck in traffic, or having to worry every day about someone rear-ending you.” Yeah, I’m a total Safety Dan type of guy, but I’ve been called out to more wrecks on the beltline than I can count.

  “You worry about me?”

  I rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “As your husband, that’s my job.”

  Her shy tongue touches the tip of my thumb, sending a shot of lust straight to my dick. “Is that your only job as my husband?”

  “Oh, no,” I say in a husky whisper. “There are a ton of duties I have to perform and I’m looking forward to every single one of them. Especially the ones involving exploring your body.”

  “I’m not hungry anymore,” she says, and that’s all the warning I get before she launches herself into my arms.

  Straddling my lap, she grinds down on me, her hips like magic as they slide her hot core right over my jean-covered dick.

  With a little growl of impatience, she rips her glasses off her face and tosses them across the room.

  “You didn’t have to do that. I think your glasses are sexy.”

  She nips my chin. “They get in the way of kissing you like I want.”

  I can’t argue with her logic. Instead, I attempt to get her out of her clothes while she tugs and pulls at my shirt and jeans. My hands slide down her curves, then glide around back to undo her bra. Her firm breasts bounce right in my face when I pull the lacey material away.

  I take a nipple into my mouth, sucking and biting, going from one breast to the other while she rides me and makes the most erotic noises I’ve ever heard from her. I try to get my hand down the front of her jeans, but with the way we’re sitting, it’s damn near impossible.

  Without breaking our kiss, I lift her onto the dining-room table, shoving our plates out of the way. Saylor’s elbow lands in a bowl of rice, but she pushes that away as well.

  Our mouths find each other’s again, her fingers on my jeans, popping every single button while I manage only to get her jeans down to her knees.

  I glance at her panties and nearly lose my mind. They’re white, practical see-through, with little ruffles around the elastic bands. They remind me of Christmas, like she’s my very own present and all I have to do is finish unwrapping her.

  Before I can do something very savage, like rip them off her with my teeth, she raises her knees and shoves them down her legs. I settle between her thighs as best I can, one hand gripping her ass and the other reaching in my jeans to pull out my cock.

  “Fuck it all.”

  I drop to my knees and stick my head under the wall of denim to plant a kiss on her clit. She lets out a moan, her back arching off the table before I tongue kiss her throbbing flesh until she’s shuddering and bucking, yanking at my hair so hard that pleasure sparks from the pain.

  “In me. Now. More,” she orders.

  Grabbing my erection, I stand and rub it against her pussy. She’s so slick from her orgasm that I coat my cock with her juices, and damn if that doesn’t turn me on even more.

  I slide the head of my cock inside her, her inner muscles grabbing on to me like a vise. She leans up on her elbows to kiss me. Our tongues tangle and I slam my hips forward, sending my cock deep inside her.

  She cries out my name into my mouth.

  I play with her clit while I fuck her, lubricating my fingers until I can slide them back to tease her ass. To my amazement, she pushes against me, sending the tip of one inside.

  “Do you like that?” I ask, keeping my hips and finger moving in harmony.

  She nods, moving her hand between her own thighs. “Feels so good when I do this, too.”

  I watch as her fingers work at her clit, brushing at my cock every so often. “Hell yes it does.”

  Sinking my finger knuckle-deep, she tightens those muscles around me, too. I can’t help but think of what it would be like to take her like that, to ease my cock in, and I tell her as much.

  Her breath comes out in little pants.

  “Fill up that pretty ass of yours with my dick and my come. You’d like it. I promise.” I pull out of her and then sink back in. Slowly. “Just think about it, sunshine. Instead of this finger, it would be every inch of—”

  She orgasms, moaning loudly while her pussy tightens down on my cock. I ram into her for all I’m worth, over and over again…until my balls draw up and that familiar tingling shoots down my spine.

  I pull out with a roar, coming all over her pussy and stomach. My vision is blurry and my chest is heaving like I’ve just completed the physical portion of Fire Recruit Academy. Twice.

  Saylor’s eyes are closed, but her mouth is curved into a smile. Her creamy skin is red between her breasts, along her throat, and on her inner thighs where my stubble abraded the tender areas. Her jeans are half on and half off and her shirt is shoved up to her neck, while the lacy bra she wore hangs off one wrist. Bits of rice cling to her left elbow and her hair is mussed.

  She is, without a doubt, the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.

  The alarm on my phone beeps and I groan.

  Saylor’s eyes slit open. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to be at the station in less than an hour,” I say, grabbing my shirt and cleaning her off with it. “No shower sex for us.”

  “Don’t leave me,” she says. “We are on our honeymoon.”

  Leaning over, I kiss her tenderly. “How about we take a look at our schedules and take a real one? I have vacation days I haven’t used this year.”

  Her eyes open wider. “You’d do that for me?”

  Something sweet washes over me. “I’m your husband. It’s one of my duties,” I reply.

  “Oh, yeah.” She struggles to sit up, and I put my arm around her back, pulling her to a sitting position. Her long hair tickles my skin. “We made a mess.”

  I shake my head, a teasing smile on my mouth. “Not me, you.”

  “I specifically remember your involvement.” She plucks something from my hair and holds it between us. It’s a carrot. “Unless you were saving this for later?”

  Laughter rumbles out of me, all the way from my gut. She grin
s, laughter bubbling out of her to join with mine. I kiss her forehead and hug her tight, ignoring the feel of her full breasts pressed up against my chest.

  “You make me so damn happy, Saylor.”

  “I’m your wife. It’s one of my duties.”

  In that moment, I know that I made the right decision by marrying Saylor, or rather, staying married to her.

  This woman is my choice.

  Mine alone.

  Chapter 18

  Saylor

  The best indicator of how good a person is how animals react to them. And if Padme’s crush on Hayden gets any worse, then I’ll have to sign him up for sainthood.

  “Who’s a sweet kitty?” Hayden croons to her, offering up treats that I don’t normally allow.

  I smile at the two of them.

  Out of nowhere, I picture Hayden having a tea party with a little girl who looks like the perfect mix of the two of us. Shocked to my very core, I push away the image in my head and concentrate on finishing my cross-stich pattern of alternating BB8s and R2D2s.

  “I think Padme would make a superior BB8 for Halloween. You can go as Rey and I’ll dress as either Finn or Han Solo. It might sound like I’m planning early, but my fire station hosts a party each year and they’re already lining up vendors for it.”

  When I don’t answer right away, he adds, “Or you can pick what you want to wear…and you can dress me up as a bad guy.”

  “You’re not a bad guy!” I all but shout, then wince a little. “What I mean is that I’d be happy to be the Rey to your Finn…or Han Solo, and in no way will I think of the age difference.”

  “We’re only two years apart in age,” he reminds me.

  “In human years maybe,” I say, trying to distract him with Saylor speak because I need the distraction.

  “True,” he says.

  Padme rolls off his lap and lands on the floor.

  “Would you like to come to our annual fireman versus policeman softball game? All the proceeds go to charity.”

  “It’s not a political event, is it?” I’m so dreading going to one of those that I’ve been going out of my mind. Which is probably the logical explanation for hallucinating kids with Hayden.

  “No. Just a charity benefit that we put on every year. Only this year, we’re playing Hunter’s unit.”

  “Evangeline will be there?” I ask, perking up.

  “Most likely.” He caresses my cheek, taking the cross-stich hoop and needle out of my hands, then setting them down on the coffee table. “Don’t worry. By the time my parents schedule us in for a family get-together, you’ll be used to being my wife and they’re going to think you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

  “If you say so.” Effortlessly, he picks me up and settles me in his lap. I turn to kiss him, sinking my hands into his hair, but he pulls away.

  “Saylor, I’d love to do nothing more than stay in your pussy twenty-four seven, but every now and then, I simply want to hold you.”

  A lump forms in my throat. “I like being held,” I admit.

  He strokes my back. “If you’ll let me, I’ll take care of you, just like you’ve always wanted.”

  My mouth parts a little. “How do you know what I’ve always wanted?”

  “Consider my upbringing, sunshine. I know what everyone wants, even if they’re afraid to admit it.”

  His words strike so close to my heart, they might as well be lightning. “What about what you want?”

  A puff of air escapes him. “You might run if I tell you.”

  What kind of kinky sex does he want? “I’m willing to listen.”

  He laughs, but I don’t think it’s at me, because it sounds slightly self-deprecating. “I want a woman to come home to at the end of the workday when I’m bone tired and can’t move a muscle from my job. A woman who won’t mind the scars on my hands, the burn marks on my arms, and the smell of soot…a woman who’ll wait up for me when I work the late-late shift, or at least wake up when I get home. Wouldn’t expect her to wait on me hand and foot, but love on me—show me affection—shit, I sound like a dog, huh?”

  “Dogs are very intelligent animals,” I say solemnly.

  His fingers dance over the curve of my jaw. “Then you get me?”

  I nod. “I don’t think we’re that different, you and I. We both want love and acceptance.”

  “Don’t forget protection. My job is to protect you from the shitholes of the world.”

  A warm fuzzy feeling washes over me. “Are there that many of them?”

  “Too many.”

  I lay my head on his shoulder, the sound of his heart beating very close to my ear. “I can give you what you want, Hayden.”

  He strokes my head, his fingers sifting through my hair. “Give you everything you want, too. You’ll never be alone again.”

  What about love, I want to ask, but I don’t. How can I, when I can’t even be honest about who my real dad is?

  —

  A very satisfying crack sounds when the ball connects with the bat. Evangeline and I both cheer, mostly because the guys aren’t taking themselves that seriously and because both teams have special-needs kids playing with them.

  “How’s married life treating you?” she says, her eyes twinkling.

  I study Hayden as he waits for the next batter to step up to the plate. He flexes, his shirt lifting to give me and every other woman here a glimpse of his eight-pack. “He has lickable abs.”

  My best friend bursts out laughing. “I’ll take that as married life is going really well.”

  Dragging my attention away from my husband, I turn to Evangeline. “I solved a lot of problems for him, once I admitted what happened between us in Tijuana.”

  “I think you did more than solve problems for him,” she says. “He can’t stop looking at you. It’s like he’s—actually, he’s acting very protective of you without being an alphahole.”

  “He can be an alpha male all he wants. They make the best mates.”

  “As long as his alpha tail doesn’t stray.”

  I shake my head. “My alpha is very loyal, like yours.”

  “Have you met his parents yet?”

  Bending my head, I stare at the wooden bleachers beneath my feet. “No. We’re supposed to have brunch with them on Hayden’s first day off, which is next Friday.”

  “And your mom?”

  This time I look at the field. “She’s happy for me, but she won’t be able to visit until the movie she’s in wraps up for postproduction.”

  “Hayden is very lucky to have found himself hitched to someone like you,” Evangeline says.

  “Maybe awkward geeks who wear glasses are a fetish of his.”

  “Maybe he can see all the good things that make you you.” I can see the frown on Evangeline’s face without even looking at her.

  “Pretty sure he sees my boobs.”

  “Everyone sees your boobs, Saylor,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh.

  Finally, I turn to face her. “I’m worried that when he finds out who I really am, he won’t want me anymore, and we’ll get a divorce. I don’t want that. I want—I want what you have with Hunter.” My lips start to tremble and tears prick at my eyes as I lower my voice. “Growing up, I watched my momma date man after man, and how when they left her, or she discovered that they were married, or…she got tired of them, she was so sad. So lonely. Until the next one.

  “I shouldn’t have said that. I sound so judgmental and disloyal,” I add, miserable at voicing my thoughts out loud.

  Evangeline gives me a sympathetic smile. “You’re allowed to make judgments on her behavior without judging her as a person to determine if that is what you want for your life or not. Besides, if she was a good mother to you, then who cares about her dating life?”

  “She was a very good mother to me,” I say fiercely. “The best. I love her.” I hold out my hand. “This was my grandmother’s ring. My mom overnighted it to me so I can have it.” I don’t add tha
t Hayden wanted me to have it quickly so we would look legit married.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “My mom has worn it three times,” I confess. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

  Evangeline tentatively touches my shoulder. “How many times did your grandmother wear it?”

  “Once. She wore it for fifty years.”

  “Seems to me that the ring has nothing to do with the marriages,” she says slowly. “More like what the person wearing it decides to do with their life. Honestly, take the decisions your mother made that you love and apply them to your own life. Or better yet, just be yourself, honey, and live life on your terms.”

  Sighing, I swallow down the tears that climb up in my throat and lean my head on her shoulder. “I know, but Hayden said that once his dad got elected, we could get a divorce.”

  “Could, but not will?”

  “Could. Would. Should. Who knows?” I can’t believe I’m having this conversation here of all places. Luckily, no one is paying attention to us.

  “Have you told him you want to stay married?”

  Twisting the square-cut diamond ring around my finger, I say softly, “No…he sends me conflicting signals.”

  “What kind of signals have you been sending him?” she asks.

  “None. I’m too afraid,” I admit.

  Evangeline places her hand over mine. “A very good friend told me that sometimes we have to do, or in your case say, the things that scare us the most in order to stop being so scared in the first place.”

  “Is that why you gave Hunter a chance?”

  “Yes.” She leaps to her feet. “He’s up to bat.”

  While she cheers her husband on, I mull over her advice, twisting and turning her words, examining them, and looking for a way to get around them. To not have to share who my father is.

  Or the fact that I’m terrified of being abandoned.

  Again.

  —

  Once the game is over and the check has been presented, we all walk as one large group to the park across the street that’s been rented out just for the occasion. Evangeline stays with me until she spots Hunter.

  He waves her over.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” she asks, barely paying any attention to me.