Tinder Ella: A Modern Day Single Dad Fairy-Tale

by Eddie Cleveland

  It’s tempting, but the idea of going to a room full of people to stare at women that have nothing on Vanessa feels like a waste of a night.

  "Why would I go watch some stranger peel off her clothes when I’ve got fucking perfection waiting for me under these ones?” I squeeze her ass hard and she swats at me playfully, laughing. How is it that she still blushes like that? How is she still so innocent even when I know she’s so sinfully dirty just under the surface?

  Suddenly a loud outburst of whooping and hollering forces us to look across the street to a wedding party who are clearly hammered and stumbling down the strip in some kind of rhythm less conga line. Leading the pack is the bride, with the skimpiest wedding dress I’ve ever seen and a crazy, elaborate veil barely clinging to her head along with the groom dressed in shorts and a blazer. I don’t know about his fashion choices, but he definitely looks happy. And drunk. But mostly happy.

  “Maybe that’s what we should do,” Vanessa smiles up at me, “you know the saying, ‘what happens in Vegas,’” she laughs.

  “Yeah, except marriage,” I shake my head, “that doesn’t just stay in Vegas,” I shake my head. I silently watch the wedding party, well, party down the street without a care in the world and glance down at the woman I love. "I think we should do that,” I don’t really think about what I’m saying, the words just rise up from my heart and spill out my mouth before my brain has a chance to ruin them.

  “What?”

  “Seriously, I’d love to elope with you. Here. Now. But really get married,” I realize I’m rambling and possibly giving the worst marriage proposal ever. My heart hammers in my chest and my mouth begins to dry out as I realize just how serious I am about this. “I already know I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. I already know I want to wake up to you every single day, I love you," I swallow hard and hold her shoulders tight as I watch her eyes open wide with surprise. “Vanessa? Will you let me marry you at some cheesy chapel in Vegas, maybe by Elvis or something? Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  It feels like my heart is thudding right inside my neck as I wait for what feels like an eternity for her to process my words. The teasing glint that was in her eyes has faded and now she looks up at me earnestly, searching my face, “Yes,” she nods. “I would love to,” a huge smile spreads over her plump lips and I pick her up in my arms and swirl her around as I kiss her.

  “I love you,” I whisper in her ear.

  “I love you too,” she giggles and I place her gently back on her feet.

  “So, do you really want to do this? I don’t want this to be some Hollywood marriage that ends in two days,” I tilt my head at her sternly but I know she feels the same way I do. I’ve known for over a year now.

  “Yes! Let’s go to the chapel,” she tucks her brown hair behind her ear and grins.

  “Alright, I feel something inside me that I haven’t felt since I was in the SEALs. Excitement. Like I’m getting ready to take an epic adventure or parachute into some unknown land. Like my adrenaline is buzzing through my veins and making every sensation stronger.

  I flag down a cab and Vanessa and I hop in the back.

  “Where to?” The burly man behind the wheel asks us in his rearview mirror.

  “We want to get married,” Vanessa gushes, her smile couldn’t be wider.

  “By Elvis,” I add in and she giggles next to me.

  “Yeah, by Elvis,” she agrees.

  “Congratulations,” the man turns around and glances at us, “I know just the place.”

  Epilogue|Vanessa

  I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s so cheesy but it’s so fun. It just feels perfect. The Elvis impersonator with a shiny, gold jacket holds my arm and leads me down the short red carpet to the front of the chapel to Gabe.

  My Mom is going to kill me.

  I mean, we’ll have another wedding for friends and family later, but right now, this moment is just for us.

  God, he looks so sexy.

  Every step I take, I watch Gabe closely. I can’t take my eyes off him. How did I get so lucky to find a man like him? One that can make me feel sexy with a look, one that can make me feel safe with a hug, one that can make me cum every single time we fuck.

  He’s perfect.

  The chapel photographer and official witness for our marriage snaps photos as Elvis brings me next to Gabe and then releases my arm, jumping up onto the white pillars decorated in lush roses.

  “I love you,” Gabe whispers to me as I clutch his broad hands and feel suddenly overwhelmed in the best possible way by all of this. I can’t wait to be his wife. To make that commitment to him forever. He’s my everything. I’m guessing even our Elvis impersonator can see that and he’s probably seen it all.

  “I love you too,” I whisper back.

  “Alright, tonight we have the absolute honour of marrying this lovely couple, Vanessa Parker and Gabriel Keenan,” Elvis speaks into a microphone despite it being an empty room. “Join those hands together, because today you join hands and join hearts to come together and celebrate one of the truly great moments of your lives, today, your wedding day,” Elvis announces as Gabe smiles down at me.

  It feels so appropriate that it’s just us here because every time he gives me that look, the world dissolves into oblivion and all I can see is him anyway. We could have a thousand-people sitting in this chapel, but all I would ever see is him.

  “Gabriel would you please repeat after me,” Elvis nods at the man that is moments away from becoming my husband, “I Gabriel.”

  “I Gabriel,” he repeats, never taking his intense blue eyes off of mine.

  “Take thee, Vanessa to be my wedded wife, ma, ma, my best friend,” Elvis swings his hips and the photographer snaps some pictures, “and my soulmate.”

  Gabe repeats the words, but without any theatrics. It’s like he’s finally saying something he’s kept buried in his soul for too long. With every word of our wedding vows, I can see the truth in them, in his love, in his eyes, in us.

  Elvis turns his attention to me and I can’t help but giggle at how silly this whole thing is. I feel like it’s a perfect way for two people who met under ridiculous circumstances to take these vows. I love that Gabe and I don’t take ourselves too seriously. The only thing we take seriously is our love.

  He guides me through the vows and I repeat each and every word, feeling it tattoo across my heart, and knowing that we are committing to each other for the rest of our lives. Tears line my eyes, I’ve never felt so happy before. And the crazy part is, I know that for as long as Gabriel is my husband I’ll always be blessed.

  “You may now kiss the bride,” Elvis instructs us.

  Gabe leans into me and sweeps me into his arms, wrapping them completely around me. I melt into him as our lips collide and our marriage becomes official with a slow and sensual kiss.

  “Now I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel,” Gabe murmurs in my ear, “this is going to be a crazy honeymoon, Mrs. Keenan,” his voice is laced with desire and it makes a shiver lick my spine as I realize that tonight I’m going to have mind-blowing sex with my husband. I can’t help but smile. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling I am so happy.

  “Then we better get back and get started,” I kiss him again and close my eyes, getting lost in our world of two and knowing that as long as we have each other we can face anything … together.

  The End

  The extended epilogue is available to members of my newsletter.

  Navy SEAL Bad Boy

  Want more SEALs? Here’s another Full Length military bad boy!

  Synopsis:

  Jake

  They pinned a medal on my chest and called me a hero. Too bad they didn’t let the demons that haunt me know.

  Now, I’ve been shipped off to rehab, the Navy SEALs have given me a chance to start over.

  It was the last place I thought I’d find the woman of my dreams. It was the last place I’d ever even look.<
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  But from the second I lock onto her innocent blue eyes I know she needs me, and I know I can’t live without her.

  I defended my country, and now I’ll put my life on the line to defend her.

  Holly

  I’ve spent my entire life on the run.

  When my twin sister died and everyone blamed me, I ran to Miami and fell into the lap of the biggest drug smuggler on the Eastern Seaboard.

  I learned the hard way that he was no knight in shining armor. I still have the scars and bruises he laid on my body to prove it.

  I finally found the strength to leave him. To get help. And I ran again.

  Now, I’m at rehab. I met Jake, a man who makes the world and all of my troubles slide away with a simple smile. He says he can save me.

  He says he will die to do it.

  Running is all I’ve ever known how to do. Now, I want to run one more time. Right into Jake’s strong arms.

  1|Holly

  I’m straddling Knox’s leg. The firm muscles of his thigh are wedged between mine, pressed up against my pussy. The fabric of my short skirt is hiked up, giving a glimpse of my lace thong to the guys – that’s how Knox likes it. He likes putting me on display.

  I watch the guys. Watch as their eyes dart back and forth from between my thighs to the gun casually resting on Knox’s other leg. As if their animal brains are too stupid to decide what to focus on: my panties or the threat of death.

  Men.

  I’m bored. It’s taking all of my self-restraint not to show it. I remember when this used to make me wet. When Knox went through his speech with a new guy about how much coke to sell he would start him off with. When he laid out all of his payment demands, with me on his leg, his coke queen, fuck, I’d practically cum.

  Being with one of the most dangerous and powerful drug runners in Miami had a lot of appeal to a messed up seventeen-year-old. And the nights where it lost its lustre, the free-flowing mountains of cocaine never did.

  Now, at twenty-two, I’ve seen it all a million times. I know I’m not Knox’s queen; I’m his puppet.

  His dummy.

  “Since yer new, I’ll start ya with four ounces,” Knox juts out his jaw and gives a curt nod toward the compact, tinfoil-wrapped brick on the coffee table.

  The new guy, Jim, doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink his icy blue eyes. “I want ten,” his lips are tight as the words squeeze between them.

  “You got shit in your ears? Or just shit for brains?” Knox’s muscles tighten, pushing me up a bit taller. Nobody contradicts Knox. I’m surprised Jim doesn’t know that. Or he just doesn’t care.

  Tommy rests his hand on the new guy’s knee, silently instructing him to shut up. “He’s starting you with four. End of story, man.” Tommy glares into Jim’s face.

  I can’t help but stare into his face too, but not for the same reason. I’m just shocked that someone has the balls to talk back to Knox. It’s stupid and it’s… kinda hot.

  Tommy’s greasy helmet of hair doesn’t move as he directs his gaze back to meet Knox. “Four is fine, man. Ain’t it, Jim?” He prods the man he’s vouched for.

  “No.”

  Tommy’s eyes squint, causing the three black tears inked onto the outside corner of his eye to crinkle up. Three tears for three lives he’s taken. It’s a pretty standard prison tat. I try to imagine what Knox’s face would look like if he had a tear for every life he snuffed out. The side of his face would be stained black. Just like his soul.

  I can feel Knox’s rage seething from his pores. I don’t need to look at him to know that his jaw is cut from stone and his eyes are narrowed like a wolf about to rip the throat out of his prey.

  From the corner of my eye, I see his hand grip his gun. “Tommy, why the fuck you bringing clowns into my home who can’t follow basic instructions?” His voice grits through his clenched teeth.

  “Listen, Knox, I don’t mean no disrespect, man,” Jim holds up his palms. “I can do ten though. You don’t need to work me up slow. I’m good.”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Tommy hisses at him. Jim doesn’t respond. His eyes are locked on Knox.

  “You’ll take four, or you’ll take none. You have one fucking week to get me my cut, five grand. You make the math work, but don’t cut it with too much shit or you won’t get any repeat business, got it?”

  “How about I start with six?” Jim answers coolly.

  “This isn’t a fucking negotiation!” Knox thunders.

  Jim clamps his mouth shut, but he doesn’t shirk back. My eyes travel over his ropy muscles, dipping down to the bulge of his pants. He’s packing, and I know from Knox’s pat down routine, that it ain’t a gun. I don’t mean to squeeze my thighs tight. I don’t give my pussy permission to get wet. I’ve just never seen someone challenge Knox so nonchalantly. There’s something about his quiet confidence that’s hard not to admire.

  “Fine, man. Four it is. You’re the boss,” Jim agrees. His tone is flat though. His ice blue eyes flicker between my legs and he quickly licks his lip before returning his focus to the job. It was a second, less than that, but it was enough to make my nipples turn to pebbles. Who is this guy?

  “Take yer shit and get out.” Knox nods to the brick. “You’ve got one week. Don’t make me send someone collecting.”

  “I won’t.” Jim quickly snatches the block of blow from the table and thrusts it into his jacket pocket.

  We all stand up. The men don’t shake hands. Instead Knox and Jim stare at each other like a couple of dogs ready to fight.

  “Let’s go, man,” Tommy nods toward the door.

  Jim doesn’t move. Tommy grabs him by his elbow and leads him away. As Tommy turns the knob on the door, Jim turns and looks back at us.

  “I’ll see you in a week.” His eyes are clearly locked on me.

  “Bye.” I’m not sure why the word escaped my lips. Let alone why it came out all high-pitched and singsongy.

  The men disappear through the door and Knox quickly walks over to it, locking it behind them.

  I start to make my way to the bathroom when Knox marches up to me.

  “You fucking little slut!” Bright white light jolts over my eyes as he throws me into the wall.

  His hand squeezes around my throat, locking me in place and cutting off my air.

  “You think you’re here to flirt with my guys, bitch?” The back of his hand slices across my lip and I can instantly taste my blood.

  “Knox,” I sputter, “please.”

  His fist is wrapped in my long brown hair and he tosses me to the floor. I hit it with a thud.

  “That’s right, Holly. You’ll be begging me all night.” He unbuckles his belt and quickly flicks the leather free, snapping it toward me like a whip. “You’ll beg me to stop. Then you’ll beg me to fuck you.”

  2|Holly

  With a quick jerk of his wrist, Knox snaps the leather belt across my bare leg. The pain spreads over my flesh like wildfire. My eyes water, but I don’t cry out. I’ve learned he likes that more. I won’t give him the fucking satisfaction.

  Knox sneers down at me. His brown eyes flicker with a rage I’ve seen more times than I’d like to admit.

  SNAP!

  Tears spill onto my cheeks as welts begin to rise on my calf. I desperately try to get my feet under me. I push myself up, attempting to stand.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Knox’s foot lands square on my stomach. I collapse back onto the floor, gasping for air. He knocked the wind out of me.

  “I’m not even close to being finished with you, Holly.”

  Knox wraps the belt tightly around his tattooed fist, his shoulders hunch over as he towers me. The silver buckle of his belt dangles menacingly before me, promising pain to come.

  “Knox, please… “

  SNAP!

  The buckle hits my arm like a rock.

  “No! Please! I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry!” I choke out the words, tears flooding my face. I hate myself for beggin
g him. I hate myself for ever staying with him. I hate… him.

  Knox stands taller, proud that he broke me down. I frantically look to the lone exit from his condo. It’s behind him. The only other escape is the balcony. I’d never survive. Eighteen floors up would kill me.

  Wouldn’t that be better?

  I push the thought away. No. I won’t let him kill me. I won’t go down without a fight. Not anymore.

  Knox lifts his arm again; I scuttle back on the floor. I won’t lie here and let him beat me. I need to try.

  His belt buckle comes down, but doesn’t bite my skin. I scurry backward as I see the fire in his eyes blaze out of control.

  “Fucking cunt! Where do you think you’re gonna go, huh? You want me to chase you around the room?” He snarls.

  “Knox, please. Put down the belt,” I plead.

  “After what you did? I brought you into my home and took care of you, for how long? Years! Treated you like a little princess and you sit on my lap with your pussy leaking for some other guy?” He leaps toward me, the belt buckle glistening under the light.

  “I didn’t!” I protest, shifting backward as quickly as I can manage.

  SNAP!

  “Fuck!” The buckle meets my ankle and blinding pain sears through me. I don’t have time to hold it. To check it. To see if it’s broken. I need to get away.

  I move back and thump into the coffee table. Quickly, I cower under it, then tip it over, trying to barricade myself from Knox’s abuse. The table hits the floor with a thud. My mind reels for a better plan. I silently pray for help when the cool metal slides against my hand.

  His gun.

  The gun I’ve never seen him without, a single day. The one that’s always out. Always loaded. The silencer, always screwed on tight. It just slid from the table to the floor beside my hand.

  I blink, uncertain of how the gun ended up in my hand. I don’t remember picking it up. I don’t remember aiming it at him. My brain is in survival mode.