SY 05_Say Yes: Forever

by Amelia Mae

  Dylan looks like he’s thinking about something.

  “Okay… done,” he says.

  “Huh?”

  “We’re going to stay here, in this bed, for an entire week,” he says. “We don’t have to see or hear from anyone else. We don’t even have to put on clothes.”

  “Naked for a week?”

  “Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “I think I can handle that.”

  The End

  Part Four

  Jack and Nikki

  Untitled

  Jack and Nikki

  Thirty-One

  Nikki

  I sit next to Jack in the front row of this beautiful LA mansion as Dylan and Jane hold hands at the altar.

  They’re at the do you, Jane, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband… part. Jane says I do and so does Dylan and the whole thing is perfect. I tear up a little as they kiss, watching Jane smile wide and Dylan look at his new bride like she’s the center of the universe.

  Jack reaches over and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

  “Do you think we’ll ever get there?” I whisper.

  “Get where?”

  “To the altar,” I answer.

  He squeezes my upper arm. “Someday.”

  He said that last time too. I try to hide my disappointment.

  I mean, Jack and I are solid. He’s the one and I’ve known it since the moment we met. I want to be with Jack no matter what.

  We’ll be together whether we actually go through with a wedding ceremony or not. And I’ve always said that I’m not in any rush.

  But, as I’ve watched each of the guys in Say Yes find love and get married, I’ve had to admit something to myself.

  I want a wedding.

  Soon.

  Well… soon-ish.

  It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.

  And I don’t even care if it’s a wedding like Dylan and Jane’s with hundreds of people in a fancy mansion, or like my brother and Cora’s, which was about ten people in a little chapel in Las Vegas.

  It could even be just the two of us. Jack and me. We could elope.

  Maybe I’m not even sure I care about the whole wedding part of it anymore. I just want to be able to call Jack my husband. To call myself his wife. To actually be married to him.

  Being with him the way we are now is amazing.

  But I want more.

  At the reception, after dinner and dancing, a brutally awkward introduction to Dylan’s incredibly unfriendly parents, and a sweet, but long, toast from Jane’s best friend Kelvin, I find Julia and plunk myself down in a chair next to her.

  I sigh out dramatically. Julia is on her phone. She gets a text message and smiles as she sends one back.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask, hoping she’ll ask me why I’m suddenly sighing and being needy right now.

  “Uh-huh,” she agrees, not taking her eyes off the screen.

  I sigh again. Louder this time.

  Nothing.

  “And Jane looks pretty in that dress,” I state. “Totally worth putting up with that snotty Beverly Hills boutique for three hours.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Julia giggles. Julia is not a giggler.

  “Okay… who are you texting?” I ask, trying to grab her phone.

  She’s got faster reflexes than I do, though, and hides it before I can get a hold of it.

  “You were sighing like a moody teenager and begging for attention…” Julia says, not missing a beat.

  “Who were you texting?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You’re giggling like…” I start, but then realize that I don’t know what to compare her too. “I don’t know. But something’s up.”

  “It’s nothing,” she says. “Nothing I’m ready to talk about, anyway.”

  “Okay, so… back to my thing?”

  “Go for it, Nikki. Complain away,” she teases.

  I sigh again. But this time, it’s out of actual frustration.

  “I want to get married,” I confess.

  Julia laughs her normal laugh. “Well, I’m flattered, but…”

  I roll my eyes at her.

  “I know you mean Jack,” she says. “But you know… you always say you’re not in a rush.”

  “Sure, but…”

  “And just because you love him and you live with him and you want to be together forever doesn’t mean that you have to get married.”

  “I know we don’t have to,” I tell her. “But I think I really want to.”

  “Are you sure it’s not just because you’ve been watching everyone else get married?” she asks. “Except for me, of course.”

  Julia has a pretty strong anti-marriage stance. She has her reasons.

  “That’s definitely part of it,” I concede. “Sure, I’m caught up a little in the wedding hoopla, but… I want my turn. Our turn. I want vows and a ring. I want Jack to be my husband, not just my boyfriend.”

  Another sigh.

  “Well, you know what you need to do then, right?” she asks.

  “Yeah. I have to woman up and talk to him,” I answer.

  After some more dancing and quite a bit more champagne, Jack and I stumble back to our apartment tipsy, happy, and a little horny. He’s got his hands up my dress the second the elevator doors close.

  “You looked so pretty tonight, Nikki,” he says, backing me up against the wall. He smooths a lock of blond hair out of my eyes.

  “You look good too,” I tell him, relishing in the scent of his subtle cologne and the heat of his body. “You should wear a suit more often.”

  “Not a chance,” he growls. “Weddings only.”

  His lips find my neck, and he trails them up to the spot just under my ear.

  “Mm… it was a good wedding, huh?” I murmur, my eyes closing as he kisses me. “Nice food. Good music. Dancing…”

  “Best part of a wedding is hooking up with the hot bridesmaid,” he says.

  Then his lips are on mine. He’s rock hard and grinding into me, which is still thrilling, even though we’ve been together for quite a while now.

  His hands are on my hips, holding me in place, right where he wants me. I start undoing his dress shirt, our kissing getting more and more furious. The elevator door opens, and we rush to the apartment. Jack fumbles with the keys and yanks the door open.

  I grab Jack’s face and kiss him hard. His jacket hits the floor. I unzip my dress, and Jack helps me slip out of it. The fabric pools at my feet, and I’m left in my strapless bra and little black panties.

  Jack’s eyes widen and he makes a low, rumbling noise.

  “Want you,” he hisses as he takes off his shirt. I attack his belt and ruck his slacks down his thighs. He undoes my bra and tosses it to the floor.

  “Love you,” I whisper back.

  Jack picks me up and carries me into the bedroom and throws me down on the mattress, trapping me under his muscled body. Totally at his mercy. And I wouldn’t trade places with anyone else in the world right now.

  He kisses me until I’m breathless dizzy with want and works off my panties. He circles my clit with his thumb. Then slips a finger inside me.

  “So wet, darlin’,” he groans. “So perfect.”

  I’m lost for words right now. “Jack,” I gasp as he adds a second finger. Then a third.

  “Ready for me?” he husks out.

  His eyes are so intense right now.

  “So ready,” I whisper. “Please. Come on. Fuck me.”

  Jack lines the head of his dick up with my entrance and pushes inside. I wrap one leg around his waist so he can get a little deeper and bite my bottom lip as he stretches me out.

  Jack dips his head down and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. It takes me by surprise.

  “Ugh,” I grunt. “Jack…”

  I feel him smile against my lips.

  He thrusts into me, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed. He’s got one
rough hand on my ass cheek and squeezes.

  “Scratch me,” he hisses, his eyes closing as his orgasm builds. He snaps his hips and hits a spot deep inside me that drives me completely crazy. “Hurt me, darlin.’ Please. I need it.”

  I sink my nails into him and pull. He groans in satisfaction.

  “Perfect,” he whispers. “I can’t hang on much longer. Come for me, Nikki.”

  “Make me,” I seethe.

  He rubs my ass cheek, teasingly, before giving me a sharp smack.

  “Ugh,” I gasp, surprised. “Again.”

  He punctuates his thrust with another hard smack, and I come fiercely. I feel Jack pulse inside as he comes too, groaning against my neck.

  My orgasm lasts an eternity. My limbs feel like jelly.

  The sweat on my skin starts drying and my heart rate slows. Jack is still on top of me, totally spent, but he’s keeping me warm, so I don’t move him.

  Finally, he stirs, and shifts so we’re facing each other. He smirks.

  “So… tell me more about fucking a hot bridesmaid,” I tease him.

  He just chuckles and kisses my temple.

  “Jack…”

  He looks over at me. He looks satisfied and peaceful and everything between us is perfect for the moment.

  “Nikki, what’s up,” he asks, stroking my hair. He’s starting to drift off to sleep.

  As much as I’m dying to tell him what I need, now isn’t the time.

  “Never mind,” I murmur.

  Jack wraps his arms around me and soon he’s asleep. I close my eyes too.

  This… I think to myself. This is what makes us perfect.

  Whatever happens, I can’t lose this.

  Thirty-Two

  Jack

  The first leg of our international tour starts up only a few weeks after Dylan and Jane’s wedding.

  This tour is massive. The biggest of our careers. Dozens of locations across the US, and then we head to Europe and Asia. Then, when the international part is over, we’re having a homecoming concert, playing a huge, sold-out show here in LA.

  This week, unfortunately, we’ve been doing a whole ton of promotional shit. Interviews, television appearances, and photoshoots.

  Which is what we’re doing today. A photoshoot.

  I have no love for photoshoots.

  I’m sitting on a sofa in the lounge area of a photography studio. Earlier this morning, we did shots of the four of us together. Some with the instruments, some without. Most of these are for posters that the vendors will sell at the shows.

  After wrapping up the group shots, we’ve moved onto solo shots. Usually, the only one who anyone wants solo photos of is Dylan, as he’s the most famous one. But this time is different.

  “This is cheesy as fuck,” I gripe to Shawn as he sits down on the chair across from me. He’s still a little oily as he throws on a fresh tee shirt.

  We both look over at Ian, who is shirtless and smoldering for the camera, holding drumsticks for absolutely no reason.

  Shawn just shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s kind of fun.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “The fans like it, too,” he adds.

  He’s texting and his phone dings with a response. He smirks like whoever he’s texting just said something dirty.

  His wife, Aya, undoubtedly.

  “I guess,” I concede.

  He goes back to texting. I go back to watching Ian. I know this isn’t his thing either, but he’ll complain about it less than I will. Plus, his wife, Cora, is hanging around watching the shoot and I know this is scoring him some major points with her.

  “Have we sold out?” I ask as an assistant sprays our drummer down with a bottle of water.

  “I don’t think so,” he answers. “We write all our own stuff. We still tour on our own terms. I think we’re doing okay.”

  The photographer has Ian cock his head to one side and run a hand through his hair in some classic cool guy pose.

  “Okay… Maybe we’ve had to sell out a little,” he says. “But, come on, we get to play music for a living. It’s everything we ever wanted. And you and I can take care of our parents.”

  I soften a little. After a lifetime of taking care of my ungrateful ass, my mother deserves everything I can give her. Buying her and Ben a house and knowing she’ll never struggle for anything she needs, ever again, would make anything worthwhile.

  “If there’s a few cheesy posters along the way, so be it,” he figures. “We’ve got it pretty good.”

  “I guess.”

  “Come on, I don’t exactly see you giving up your nice apartment or the fancy car anytime soon,” he states, “And I don’t miss touring around in that van.”

  “Yeah. I don’t either.”

  “So, if I have to pose shirtless for a few minutes and sell some posters, I’ll do it,” he concludes. “Plus… my wife seems into it.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, I bet.”

  The photographer wraps up with Ian and he returns to the lounge where Shawn and I are hanging out. Right on cue, Nikki walks in.

  “God, Ian!” she screeches, covering her eyes at the sight of her half-naked, tattooed older brother.

  Ian throws his shirt back on. “Come on, Nikki. Grow up.”

  Nikki continues pretending to be scandalized for a few more seconds as I make my way over to her. I kiss her hello and I notice that Ian does his best not to react. He pretends to be totally okay with my dating his younger sister. But I had a reputation for sleeping around before Nikki and I got together and sometimes, I think he still holds that against me.

  But I have to prove myself to Nikki, not to her brother.

  I wrap my arm around her for good measure.

  “They’re ready for you,” Ian tells me. Now dressed, he hugs Nikki and kisses her cheek.

  Nikki grimaces. “You’re… slippery.”

  “Sorry,” he says. “You guys coming over later?”

  “Yeah,” I tell him. Nikki nods.

  Ian and Shawn are done for the day, so they leave, and the photographer waves me over.

  “Guitar?” I ask her, trying not to show her that the whole process irritates me a little. “Shirt?”

  “Yes, to the guitar; no, to the shirt,” she replies, with a little attitude. “Come on, you know how to do this, Jack.”

  With a barely noticeable groan, I lose the shirt and pick up the prop guitar. I stand in the light and wait for the camera to start flashing.

  “Jack, come on. Do something about your face,” the photographer says.

  I try to keep neutral. What’s that supposed to mean?

  “And what would you have me do?” I ask. This photographer has a sense of humor, thankfully, but I don’t want to piss her off.

  “Look at the camera and do that thing,” she replies.

  “What thing?”

  “You know. That face you always make in pictures.”

  I sincerely didn’t know that I make a face in pictures. I look to Nikki trying to signal what the fuck is she talking about to her. She’s taken some behind the scenes shots for Say Yes’s social media.

  “Make that face you make when I tease you about your old nipple piercing,” she says.

  I scowl. “Okay, now you’re just pissing me off.”

  The photographer is snapping away. “Perfect.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “What? You look hot when you’re pissed,” Nikki says with a lazy shrug.

  I bust out laughing. More pictures are snapped.

  “Okay, you look hot when you’re almost happy too,” she teases. “Maybe you should just admit that you liking this. Just a little.”

  “Not a chance,” I shoot back.

  Although having Nikki there giving me shit while this is all going on is kind of fun. And having her stare at me, biting her bottom lip and getting all hot and bothered is pretty fun. I daresay that I’m almost having a good time.

  Almost.

  About fifteen minutes later, the
photographer tells me that we’ve got all we need.

  She and her assistant start breaking down equipment. I clean up and find a fresh shirt as Nikki and I look through the shots she took on her phone. We get into her car, and she shows me the ones she likes.

  “I look like such a douche,” I tell her. “Come on, Nikki. Only tools play guitar shirtless like that.”

  “Disagree. You look hot,” she counters.

  “Eh…”

  “Don’t fish for compliments.”

  “I’m not fishing for compliments,” I argue.

  She rolls her eyes.

  “I’m just saying that I’d rather sell music, not posters. I want to be known for my guitar skills, not how I look with my shirt off,” I tell her.

  “Yeah, I know. Rest assured, you guys wouldn’t have gotten anywhere if you couldn’t play music,” she says. “But the fact that you look like this… is icing on the cake.”

  I keep quiet. She’s right.

  “We’re going to your brother’s for dinner tonight,” I remind her.

  “I know.”

  She starts the car and we head home. She looks like she’s thinking about something.

  “I can’t wait to see baby Alicia,” she says.

  “Yeah. Me neither.”

  “You know, they’re thinking of having another.”

  “Ian mentioned.”

  She’s definitely getting at something, but I can’t figure out what. She turns onto our street and into the parking garage.

  “Could be nice,” Nikki says.

  “What?”

  “Kids.”

  “I’m sure,” I tell her. “Kids are great.”

  “You want kids?” Her eyebrows raise, intrigued.

  “I don’t know, honestly,” I answer.

  “Oh.”

  She pulls into our parking spot and turns off the car.

  “Is that a bad oh?” I ask.

  She shrugs.

  “Nikki, you’re always direct with me. Whatever you want to ask me, just go ahead and ask it. I hate guessing,” I say. “Are you saying that you want kids?”

  “Yes,” she tells me.