Mutual Release

by Liz Crowe

  Julie looked like she wore expensive couture instead of the horrific tablecloth masquerading as a wedding dress. She was perfect, flawless. When he realized it was none other than James Dawson himself escorting her down the aisle, Evan shivered as a sudden panic hit him, blooming through his chest. But then she was here, and James was hugging him, slapping him on the back and wishing him “a shit-ton of luck because you are so gonna need it with this one.”

  And Julie stood holding a bouquet of ugly, blood-colored fake roses, eyes cast down. The room disappeared. There were only the two of them. He stepped into her space, lifted her veil. “Look at me,” he whispered, unable to stop himself.

  “Whoa, hang on there, mon,” the fake Rasta priest intoned when Evan swept her into his arms and kissed her so hard even he saw stars. “You takin’ dis ting too fast!” The room laughed, clapped, cat-called, and when Julie reached around and cupped his ass, that really set the group off.

  Finally, he let go of her and ran a finger down her tear-streaked face. “I love you,” he said. Then turned to Kyle, whose wig had slid to the right, giving him an even more stoned look. “Hurry, before she changes her mind.” He held out a hand, and Jack dropped two heavy, matching platinum bands in it.

  “I do,” Julie yelped when he smacked her ass under the layers of ugly dress.

  “I know you do,” he whispered into her ear, his body suddenly ready for a different sort of activity.

  “All right, cut out the shit and let me do dis here ting,” Kyle roared over the laughter. “Put da ring on her, mon! Say dese here words.” Which he did, barely remembering them as he drowned in her blue eyes. “Now, your turn, young lady.” She slipped his ring on him and he stared at it, memorizing its heft and contours.

  “Hey!” Julie gasped as Sara clapped one half of a set of metal handcuffs on her wrist at the same time Jack shackled Evan with the other half. Sara’s eyes brimmed with tears as she hugged Julie. Jack slapped Evan’s back, then stepped away, keeping his gaze trained on Sara. Evan smiled at his wife, threaded his fingers through hers, and lifted their cuffed hands high in the air, to much cheering.

  After signing official papers brought from the county courthouse by one of their old law school buddies, just like that it was official. He was finally married to the love of his life. “Now,” Kyle said, holding a giant fake doobie over them as if he were going to knight them with it, “by the pow-ah vested in me by all you fine, fine people hee-yah today…these two stubborn, annoying friends of ours are finally fucking hitched!” He put a kazoo to his lips and blew, and the room became a cacophony of noise as they were serenaded while Evan kissed Julie. And kissed her and kissed her, until Jack tapped his shoulder.

  “Dude, as much as I would pay to watch this show, you gotta save something for later. Let’s party!”

  The room exploded with cheers once more. They drank beer, ate burgers, and hung out as long as Julie could stand it. Every time she looked at Evan – her husband – her body sang out with need. It was a compulsion the likes of which she had never felt. Every nerve ending she possessed trembled and her thighs weakened when he raised an eyebrow at her and leaned to her ear.

  “Somebody needs something from me, I’m guessing. You are thrumming like a horny livewire, my love. What should we do about it?” He bit her earlobe. She grabbed his thigh under the cheap polyester. He’d unlocked his half of the cuffs, but she kept hers on, dangling from her left wrist.

  “Get me out of here and fuck me. Before I explode. How’s that for a plan?” She yanked off the veil, reached down and ripped the lower half of the obnoxious wedding dress off, leaving her clad in a short version of it.

  He leaned back, gave her a strange, wary look, but she just ran her tongue over her lips and ignored whatever warning signals he was giving.

  “Could get messy. Just saying,” she whispered.

  He grinned and the brief awkward moment dissipated. As he stood and picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of malt, he called out to the crowd, “My blushing bride has indicated I must take care of some business.” The group clapped and whistled as he made his way through the bar and into the brewery, smacking her ass the whole way. He climbed the short flight of steps to his office and tossed her down on the ratty couch he kept in there so he could have staff meetings “not at a table.”

  “Now… let’s see if I can recall how you like this.” He yanked off his coat, shoved up her skirt, and dove down to lick and suck at her bare sex. She draped her legs over his shoulders and tilted her hips, needing more, now. “Mmm…,” he moaned as her body prepared itself for release. “Now, baby, come now,” he muttered, pressing two fingers deep inside her as he kept up exquisite suction on her clit.

  “Ah, God!” she yelled, clapping a hand over her mouth. The orgasm felt full of potential, and her body pulsed around his fingers. “Ah… More like it,” she said smiling, as he stood, wiping his lips and staring at her. “What?”

  But he stayed silent as he tugged his blue tuxedo trousers off and stood over her, the magnificence of his body making her breath catch in her throat.

  “Please, Sir. I want this.” She tugged his boxers down, wrapped her palm around his warm, hard flesh. “Inside me, Evan. I need it so badly… it hurts.”

  He pulled her to her feet, threaded his fingers in her hair, and parted her lips with his tongue, rough, urgent, and she met him halfway, their mutual need coiling around them, suffusing the room with a rich, purposeful aura.

  She kept sliding her hand along his thick shaft, making him move his hips against her as they kissed. She pushed him down on the couch, straddled his lap and lowered herself over his cock, slowly, feeling him spread her body inch by glorious inch. He ripped the top of the horrible wedding dress, sending buttons and fake jewels flying all over the room, and tore her bra in his haste to get at her breasts as she ground against him. He was sunk deep, his thick head caressing her G-spot. She moaned and lifted up as he grabbed a nipple between his lips and teeth. The raw urgency of the moment blinded her as she moved up and down. He dug his fingers into her hips, kept sucking and biting her nipples and she felt it – a monster climax – as if her body was going to lift off and take flight.

  “Fucking-A, Julie. I’m gonna blow, baby. Sorry, I can’t stop…,” he ground out, his face pressed into her breasts. “You are… it’s not… oh hell…” He picked her up as she wrapped her legs around him and walked them over to the desk before laying her back and looming over her. “Come with me,” he commanded, as he pounded into her, the connection rough and primal.

  She felt him tense up as her own orgasm blinded her with its intensity. The room dimmed, and all she knew was her man, her husband. Finally, they calmed, still connected, lying on his giant desk. He kissed her lips, cheeks, nose.

  “Mmm… thanks for the surprise.” He pulled out of her, stood and helped her up. “I have one too, if you must know.” He handed her a brewery t-shirt off the shelf to cover the destroyed top of her dress. Then held out a key.

  She looked at it, confused. It was too big to unlock the cuff still dangling from her left wrist.

  “Your kingdom, my queen. I bought a house.”

  Evan tried to catch his breath, to process what had just happened. Fucking around in his office was not what he’d wanted to do at all. At Jack’s insistence on their way from the strip club, he had reserved a room for them later at The Suite and had planned to give her the house key then. Jack suggested it. A little sneaky, getting her into a submissive position, then laying the house key thing on her, but hopefully it would ward off the worst of a classic Julie meltdown.

  But this had been so – He cast around for a word, but his orgasm-addled brain wouldn’t cooperate. The confusion on her face at the sight of the key faded, and something he didn’t much care for settled in its place. She tugged the tee down over her bare breasts and used some tissues to clean herself up while staring at him. “You bought what house?”

  “The one you wanted.
”

  She frowned, took the key and palmed it. The look on her beautiful, well-fucked face did not bode well for his announcement. He tried to hold his temper as she spoke, making sense, he knew, but pissing him off at the same time. “Evan, we only looked at five houses. And I thought we were going to wait, you know, for rates to come down and… I don’t know, just wait a while on that.”

  “I know which one you liked, so I jumped. Once we sell the two other places we can re-fi – ”

  “Whoa, just hang on there a second.” She leaned back on the desk, her stubborn game face on. “I don’t like this kind of surprise. For the record. This is something we need to do together, don’t you think?”

  “I knew you’d drag your feet until we started collecting retirement in my condo. I’m ready to move, to start our life together fresh. No big deal. Don’t get your back up.” He kept his voice even, as a mysterious breath of fresh fury blew through his brain. “It’s perfect. Now that we’re married.” He tried to bring back the buzz from earlier.

  “Don’t get my back up?” She blew out a puff of air and paced around the room. Something about her was niggling at him, something was off, out of place, different. He put his fingers to his lips, and remembered it. “You have a lot of nerve, Evan Adams, if you think you can just haul off and – hey!”

  Without warning, he lifted her skirt and touched her bare, moist sex. She glared at him as he put his fingers to his lips again. He frowned. “You taste different. A lot different. It’s too soon for your quarterly period. What’s going on with you?” He knew it, somehow, but refused to process it.

  She jerked out of his grasp, ran her hand up and down her arm and glanced around the room. He could practically see her wheels turning. “Nothing. I don’t know. Jesus, I’m stressed out to the max getting this whole…,” she waved a finger in the air, “… this thing together. I haven’t had sex with you in like a month. Maybe I just taste neglected.” She stepped closer, put her arms around his neck. His cock started twitching in response and his lizard brain sent weird signals to him, ones he didn’t understand. “Which house is it? Am I allowed to know that much?” She bit his earlobe. He shivered, and his body got ready to fuck her again. That was nothing new; they’d done marathons before. But after all the booze he’d had today, it seemed a little odd.

  “C’mon, you sex fiend. Let’s go back out to the party for a while. We have a reservation later down at The Suite. Then I’m carrying you over the threshold of the house tomorrow. You’ll just have to wait. But I’ll make the waiting part fun.” He cupped her ass, shoved his leg between hers, and was gratified to get clear signals that she wanted more – a lot more.

  “Oh, all right,” she said, her face red. Ignoring a clanging warning in his head, something about her, her scent and taste and neediness, he ducked back into the room to loud applause and a round of fresh beers and teasing. She stayed near him the rest of the evening, her hands always touching him as if reassuring herself he was still there. Finally he took one and pressed it to his lips.

  “What’s wrong baby?” he said, running the back of his finger down her face.

  “Nothing. I’m just happy.” she insisted, before turning from him to chat with James.

  He watched her a few minutes. He felt great, but an odd little fluttery something wouldn’t let him go. As she made her way around the room, his eyes trailed up and down her curvy, perfect figure, already anticipating the fun he had planned. It was gonna be a spanking night, for sure. He grinned into his beer and did a few more rounds of socializing before coming up behind her and sticking his nose into her neck. “Mmm… you smell like sex. That’s my favorite.”

  “You better cut it out. My husband might catch you. He is one jealous hot-headed bastard.” She put her arms around his head, pressed back against his body.

  “Okay, what do you say we get the hell out of here? Before he shows?” He turned her around, kissed her softly, and tugged her around behind the bar. “We need to stop by home and grab some overnight stuff.”

  She sighed and put her head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes against the extreme perfection of this moment, right now. Standing in a bar he owned, surrounded by friends, holding his woman – his wife – in his arms. Her hands slid down his waist and cupped his ass.

  “I am more than ready,” she said, already smiling and waving at the room full of people.

  “I can tell,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

  He pulled into the garage and leaned over to kiss her. “You stay here, I’ll get a bag packed.”

  She nodded, her face content. He knew she’d likely snooze the whole way down to Detroit but he didn’t mind. He wanted her good and rested up for tonight. It had been nearly two months since they’d done any hard core playing, and he was way overdue for a little outlet of the spanking variety.

  He grinned like a goofball at himself all the way up to the upper floor. Stopping on his way through the kitchen to get a drink of water and grab a bottle for Julie, he spotted her laptop. It was open on the counter. He stared at it, wondering if he should bring it for her, when it dinged and flickered to life with a message. He glanced over at the screen idly as he tossed a few apples and granola bars into a bag. Something made him look closer at the subject line – something he really wished he’d not heeded once he saw it.

  Check Up Required, it said. He squinted at the sender: Dr. Gene Harrison, OB/Gyn

  He turned the computer towards him, his face flushing red and his heart pounding. Don’t read her email, stupid. That is a recipe for complete disaster.

  But he did. And it was.

  Chapter Six

  Evan dropped the small bag in the trunk of the vintage Jaguar and climbed behind the wheel. Julie smiled at him as he handed her the water bottle. He steered the car out onto the street and pointed them in the direction of downtown Detroit in silence. She sipped, sighed, and leaned her seat back, putting her hand on his thigh. He glanced down at it. The brilliance of the perfect emerald-cut rock he’d bought for her mesmerized him as he waited at a red light to turn onto Interstate 94.

  The words of the email he’d caught were burned into his brain. His whole body was taut, his thoughts a whirlwind of disbelief and confusion. So he kept quiet, and she slept as he drove into the city. While he parked, he reflected the fury slowly taking over in his psyche was likely a bad place to begin, considering what his body needed tonight. But he forced a smile to his lips and continued to stay silent as they got into the elevator and even as it dinged open at the top floor and Kyle’s manager welcomed them to their home away from home for the next couple of days.

  “Can you send up dinner in about three hours?” he asked the woman who handled the residential suites. “And no disturbance before or after?” She nodded and handed him a key.

  Julie shot him a strange look. “You okay?” she asked, putting a hand on his face. He stepped back from her touch, making her frown deepen.

  “Of course. Everything is just great. Don’t you think?” He heard the false brightness of his voice, and knew he wasn’t fooling her for a second. This could go downhill fast, he mused. It was up to him to keep it on an even keel and get her to a position where she had to admit to him what she’d done.

  He held the door open for her, dropped their bag onto the floor, and took note of the furnishings. A giant bed dominated the room, draped with billowy sheer curtains and outfitted with restraints at all four corners. On the silk cover lay a leather blindfold, a flogger, a bowl of strawberries, and a glass dildo.

  Julie sighed and kicked her shoes off. “Mind if I shower first?” she asked, keeping her eyes down. Now that they were here, in this place where he was completely in charge, she was slipping into her role.

  “Sure,” he said, as noncommittal as he could manage. He took the stuff off the bed, lit some of the candles, and turned on music – loud, pounding rock poured from the hidden speakers. Breaking Benjamin, one of his favorites. He dropped into a chair, put his hand over his
now very erect cock. “After you come over here on your hands and knees and suck me. Wife,” he said, popping a strawberry into his mouth and eyeing her reaction. Anger rose, but he tamped it down. She dropped to the floor but he held up a hand. “No, you have on too many clothes.”

  She stood, wiggled out of the remains of the wedding dress and lifted the brewery tee off. He marveled at the magnificent hourglass perfection of her. She was full, voluptuous, not stick-thin like so many women these days. Her fitness regimen kept her toned and strong. But he loved her curves, the contrast between her waist and hips, as he dragged his eyes along her front. And those tits – had he ever hit the jackpot there. As a dyed-in-the-wool breast man, his wife had all he needed in that department, with some to spare.

  The music blasted into his skull, harsh and chest-pounding, as she got to her knees and crawled over, licking her lips. He unzipped his trousers, fisted himself and grabbed her hair, twisting his fingers in it hard. “You need to make me come again, Julie. So I can service you properly tonight.” She nodded, ran her tongue along the edge of his head, making him shudder.

  She tugged his pants down and he kicked them to the side, spreading his legs and groaning as she deep-throated him right away, swallowing his cock down so he could fuck the tight back of her throat. He fisted her hair with both hands and let himself come, hard and fast, grunting with the effort. He sat back, his head fuzzy, and watched her wipe her lips. He ran a finger across them as he pondered just how he was going to handle what she’d done – gone off her birth control for nearly two months without a single word to him.