Married to the Manny

by Daisy May

  “Well hello, Mr. Working Man,” Cole said as I came through the door.

  “Hello, my darling househusband.”

  I set down my backpack and gave him a hug… which I soon turned into a kiss that I drew out much longer than necessary.

  It was just so good to see him. Even though I’d only been gone for a few hours, I appreciated every minute we’d spent together. After what we’d been through, I would never, ever take him for granted.

  “How was work?” he asked, untying his apron.

  “Jonny had another conniption in the middle of the play area, but Kesha’s been doing better. She even ate her whole lunch.”

  “Impressive,” I said. “She didn’t cry today?”

  “Not even once.”

  He knew all about my students, even though he’d never laid eyes on them. I gave him updates every day, telling him every new thing that happened.

  The job was still only part-time, but between the two of us, I was the only one who was working at all. The salary covered the two-bedroom we were renting, but there wasn’t much left over after. We had to dip into his savings for everything else.

  We’d moved out of my moms’ place a few months ago, pretty much as soon as he decided not to get on that plane. He’d gone back to Miami eventually, but only to pack his stuff and find a tenant for the house. Both had gone smoothly, and he’d been able to come back to me within a few days.

  Cole had tried his hardest to get Kerry to come up here. Despite all his pro-Canada arguments, she preferred to stay in the United States. For the moment, she was living with Cole’s parents, who were spoiling her like crazy. Her mom would be back in Miami by the end of the summer, so she could live with her for the school year.

  Summer vacation, though—for that, she’d be staying with us. I looked forward to having her here. Toronto was much more pleasant in the summer. And where we lived, there was plenty of space for her to run and play outside.

  Meanwhile, I inhaled the scent of tomato sauce. “What are you making?”

  “Pasta.”

  “Pasta with what?”

  “Just plain old tomato sauce.”

  “Really? You’re not making me some gourmet dish tonight?” I teased.

  Now that he was out of work, I liked to tell him he should experiment in the kitchen. I was making an honest-to-goodness attempt to expand my food horizons beyond French fries or mac and cheese.

  But rather than cooking anything exciting, he’d been spending most of his time hanging out with me. When I was at work, he had plenty of reading and movies to fill his time. Turned out it’d been a long time since he’d allowed himself any form of escapist entertainment, and he had a lot to catch up on.

  “There’s meatballs in it,” he said.

  “Oh, really?” I asked. “You’re going to give me your meatballs?”

  He flicked a little sauce onto my nose. “Don’t tell me you’d rather have meatballs than meatballs.”

  “You know me… I always want meatballs.” I gave him an exaggerated eyebrow wag.

  He balanced the wooden spoon on the pot, then came after me. “What kind of meatballs do you always want?” he asked, sticking his hands down my pants from behind. “This kind?”

  “Your kind.” I turned, doing the same to him.

  I squeezed lightly, and Cole shivered. “What are you going to do with those meatballs?”

  “I was thinking of playing with them for a while,” I said. “Maybe giving them a lick, if you feel up for it.”

  “One sec, or those meatballs are going to burn.” He leaned over to turn off the stove before dragging me into the bedroom.

  My heartbeat picked up speed as we passed through the door. We did this constantly—it honestly felt like we never stopped lately—but it was amazing every single time.

  I still couldn’t believe that the universe had chosen such an incredible man for me. And after all the struggle to get together and stay together, I wanted to enjoy every single moment I had with him.

  We kissed again, our hands roaming over each other as we began to pull off our clothes. My cock hardened against his waist, and when his came out as well, I grabbed both at once.

  I gave us a few slow caresses, stroking both at the same time. Cole licked his lips, his hands tightening on my shoulders. I loved the look on his face, loved to see him taking so much pleasure from me.

  And I was just getting started. Moving him over to the bed, I dropped to the mattress between his legs. I worshipped the hell out of this cock, and sometimes I felt like I got more out of blowing Cole than he did.

  “You’re seriously going for it,” Cole said, chuckling softly as I lifted his shaft out of the way.

  “I always keep my promises.”

  I teased his balls with the tips of my fingers, then replaced them with my tongue, drawing circles around each shaved protuberance, then ran it down the seam at the middle of his sac.

  “Shit…” Cole’s body bucked under my ministrations. “I think I need to cook pasta more often.”

  The last word turned into a gasp as I closed my lips around his tip. I sucked him into my mouth, enjoying the way he quivered under my touch. His body was all mine now, his pleasure completely under my control. And now that we’d been together for a few months, learning how to push each other’s buttons every day, I knew the exact ways to please him.

  But I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. Popping him out of my mouth, I ran my tongue slowly up the length of his shaft. I licked the sensitive spot under his tip, going over and over it until he groaned. Then I drew back, sliding my hand up and down where my tongue had been, my fingers moving easily over the now-slick rod.

  I dipped my head down, taking his balls into my mouth again. I sucked slowly, going from one to the other until Cole was shaking beneath me. Putting both elbows on his thighs, I held him in place. His hips still arched up, trying to thrust his cock farther into my hand, but I wasn’t going to let him have that much control. Not today.

  Or at least, not now—because when Cole had enough of my teasing and torturing, he rolled over to his side and sat up. He put his hand on my chest, his eyes filled with unstoppable lust. And then he pushed me onto my stomach, pulling my pants down to my knees.

  “You want to make me crazy, do you?”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “You had fun making me go crazy?”

  Another nod. His fingers stroked inside me, easily parting that ring of muscle. We’d been doing it so often, I hardly needed any prep these days. I opened for him without any effort, and when he was inside me, he fit me perfectly. Just another way that I belonged to him.

  “My submissive bottom,” he said, dripping something wet on my hole and then sliding a second finger inside. “You can be a little brat at times, can’t you?”

  I groaned a reply. My cock was achingly hard between my legs, and as I ground it against the mattress, I could feel a wet spot where my precum had leaked out.

  I put my hand down to touch myself. My cock was aching for any kind of stimulation, and although I craved more of Cole, my hand was better than nothing. Behind me, he was doing something—I couldn’t even tell how many fingers he had inside me, or what they were doing to me.

  What I did know was that it seemed to be getting slicker and slicker back there, and that after far too long, I felt him come up behind me. With firm but gentle hands, he pulled me to my knees.

  He dropped to my elbows, my back already arching as he lined himself up. I guessed he’d been using lube just now, because he barely paused before sinking into me.

  I let out a sharp hiss. I could actually feel everything. I could feel his skin on my inner walls. The difference from protected sex was night and day. I didn’t know how I’d ever been satisfied before we’d stopped using the condoms. I could never go back to doing it like that.

  He seated himself fully inside me, stretching me out and yet fitting me perfectly at the same time. I cried out, my hands raking
across the bedsheets as unbelievable pleasure overtook me. I just couldn’t get over how lucky I was to have this man, to be here with him. The rapture of this moment surpassed anything I could have imagined.

  I stroked myself with one hand, the other stretching back to pull him even farther inside me. I wanted every last millimeter of him. I never wanted to stop.

  “You want me to talk dirty?” he gasped out.

  Even mid-groan, I smiled. Cole was developing a real filthy mouth now, and I couldn’t have been happier. I reached both hands behind me, stroking whatever part of him I could get. And if that happened to be his butt cheeks, even better.

  “You know I always want to hear you talk dirty,” I said.

  “And you know I love fucking you,” Cole said. “I love being in you, feeling your walls surrounding me. I love how hot and tight you are.”

  “Fuck…”

  “I love slamming into you,” he said as he picked up speed. “Love watching your ass ripple and quake with every thrust I give you.”

  Burying my head in the pillow, I groaned in response.

  “Hell, Gordon, you don’t even know how fucking hot you are. Seeing you from back here, that strong back and all your muscles and the curve of your shoulders—you’re so sexy, and you’re all mine.”

  “Yes, I am,” I managed.

  “You belong to me?”

  “Yes.”

  He slapped my ass hard. “Who’s the only man you love?”

  “You.”

  “Whose cock do you want for the rest of your life?”

  “Yours, Cole.”

  He gave me a few more hard thrusts, and I could tell we were both nearing the edge. “Whose? I want you to tell me one more time.”

  “Your cock, yours.” My breath caught as climax began to rise within me. “My husband’s.”

  Epilogue—Cole

  “Daddy! Gordy!”

  Kerry’s voice came through the bedroom door, and I jumped off the bed to go open it.

  “You two were kissing in here,” Kerry said accusingly.

  “No, we weren’t.” I fought the urge to wipe my mouth. “Why would we have been?”

  “Because you two never stop.”

  “Fair enough,” Gordon said with a shrug. “We kind of don’t.”

  “Well, we’re still in the honeymoon phase.”

  Even if our two-year anniversary was coming up, we were so obviously crazy about each other that everyone still said that.

  I could hardly believe so much time had passed. It felt like yesterday that we’d been at that banquet hall. At the time, I was convinced I was making the biggest mistake of my life. As it turned out, I’d never been happier with a decision.

  “Are you coming?” Kerry asked with mounting frustration.

  “Of course,” I said. “We’d never miss your school play.”

  We followed her into the elevator, and I complimented Gordon for the millionth time on the outfit he’d made. The school she now attended in Toronto had its own supply of costumes, but Gordon had decided to make hers, just for fun.

  After comparing the two cities, she decided she liked Toronto better—or maybe the two of us were just more fun than her grandparents. Either way, after spending the summer with us, she decided she didn’t want to go back.

  She still visited home from time to time, as well as spending Christmas and other holidays with her mom in Paris. She’d also stayed in Miami while Gordon and I took our second honeymoon in Jamaica. But for the rest of the year, she was here—cute, smart, and full of attitude.

  It was definitely going to be interesting raising a teenage girl with Gordon. I definitely wasn’t looking forward to the sex talk. But Samantha was always within reach if Kerry needed a female role model, and for the rest of it, Gordon and I would struggle through.

  He’d been given more hours at his work, despite not having a degree. He was thinking about going to school and getting his bachelors, maybe even going on to teachers’ college afterwards.

  As for me, I’d started doing some freelance work for my former clients. Many of them preferred working with me regardless of my location, and they paid the same amount as before even though my firm wasn’t taking a cut. So I was making ends meet, and then some—and doing a lot less work than before, too.

  Together, we’d bought a house in the area where his moms lived. It had a second bedroom for Kerry, and a third for guests. Talbot had come up for a week, and Gordon’s friend Reuben was thinking of visiting to cool off next summer.

  When we got to Kerry’s school, she showed us off to all her friends—of which she had many. As soon as she moved here, she won over everyone around her. With the amount of friends she brought over to our house, I wondered if she’d turned into the “popular girl.”

  Tonight, she really did have the lead role in the play. I watched her act, my heart swelling with pride. She was turning into a real young woman. And I was turning into one of those annoying grown-ups who couldn’t stop pointing out how whatever kids they interacted with were growing up.

  As soon as Kerry got back to us after the play, she shook her head at us. “Did you even see the play, or were you kissing the whole time?”

  “We saw everything, and we have something for you.”

  I pulled out the bouquet of lilies that I’d hidden under my seat. Her eyes went wide, and she hugged them. “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

  “I’m glad you liked it, because we have to get going,” I said. “I’d love to let you stay and soak in all the praise, but we have to get to the courthouse.”

  Her eyes widened even more. “That’s today?”

  “You knew that was today.”

  “I forgot. I can’t stay here and celebrate with my friends?”

  “Not if you want to become a Canadian citizen,” Gordon said.

  “Oh.”

  All together, we drove to the courthouse. The room was full, and the atmosphere was a cheerful one. We’d already been investigated and approved, as well as going through all sorts of tests. All that was left was the swearing-in ceremony.

  I’d had to memorize endless amounts of information about Canadian geography, history, and culture. I’d even had to learn a few words in French. I probably knew more than Gordon now, so he couldn’t laugh at me anymore.

  Kerry was going to learn all the same stuff at school, so she’d gotten off easier. All she had to do today was show up.

  That wasn’t to say Canada had an easier immigration process than the United States. I was already married to a Canadian citizen before the application began, though, and I suspected that was the main difference.

  A judge stood up at the front of the room and asked us to place our hands over our hearts. I did as she asked, feeling the rapid pumping under my palm. All of our struggles had led up to this moment, and from now on it was going to be smooth sailing. No more fear, no more stress—only happiness with my husband.

  “Please join me in singing our national anthem,” the judge said.

  I knew the words now—knew them in both official languages. And in true Torontonian manner, I honestly believed the Maple Leafs were going to win the Stanley Cup this year. Most importantly of all, I had an amazing Canadian husband.

  With Gordon on my left and Kerry on my right, we joined hands and sang along with the judge’s lovely soprano. “O Canada…”

  After this, we planned to sit on the shore of Lake Ontario and drink Molson Canadian. Today would be the perfect day we’d envisioned so long ago—but the real thing was going to be even better than we’d imagined.

  And this was only the start of the rest of our lives.

  Thank you for reading Married to the Manny!

  My next book will be an all-male ménage romance featuring Gordon’s friend Reuben.

  Want to get a notification when it comes out? Click here or type http://eepurl.com/cRLVHv for updates on my new releases.

  Love,

  Daisy May

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  Table of Contents

  One—Gordon

  Two—Cole

  Three—Gordon

  Four—Cole

  Five—Gordon

  Six—Cole

  Seven—Gordon

  Eight—Cole

  Nine—Gordon

  Ten—Cole

  Eleven—Gordon

  Twelve—Cole

  Thirteen—Gordon

  Fourteen—Cole

  Fifteen—Gordon

  Sixteen—Cole

  Seventeen—Gordon

  Eighteen—Cole

  Nineteen—Gordon

  Twenty—Cole

  Twenty-One—Gordon

  Twenty-Two—Cole

  Twenty-Three—Gordon

  Twenty-Four—Cole

  Twenty-Five—Gordon

  Twenty-Six—Cole

  Twenty-Seven—Gordon

  Epilogue—Cole