by Brill Harper
I turn and the asshole ex that was harassing Stella the other night is smiling at me and holding out his hand. “You’re the new vet, right? Christopher? My name is Devon.”
I have too many manners to ignore him, so I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you,” I say with little enthusiasm. He’s obviously familiar with the weight room, but his too tight T-shirt reveals the puffy man-boobs of a steroid user. I’ve run into those enough at the gym. In my opinion, Stella deserves better than this asshole.
“What do you think of our little shitty town?”
I bobble the beer bottle in my hand. Devon is the first person I’ve talked to that disparaged Brazen Bay. Everyone who lives here seems to love it. “It’s beautiful. It’s worked out very nicely for me.”
Devon gets a douchey smirk and bumps my arm with his fist. “You’re still fucking Stella then?”
I’m reminded of every high school jock that gave me a swirly until I figured out how to get stronger. Taking a deep breath, I set my beer down and straighten to my full height, looking the asshole in the eye. “My relationship with Stella is none of your business.”
He chuckles. “Relationship? Dude, between you and me, you can do better.” Shrugging, he swigs his beer down. “She’s good in bed though, yeah? That tight pussy is hot if you can ignore the whiny bitch the rest of the time. And overlook the rolls.”
A halo of red circles my vision.
Rage turns from red to white hot and flashing behind my eyes. I pull back and connect my fist to his nose before I realize what I’ve done. And then, when I do realize what I’ve done, I slam him into the post. “You fucking say her name again, and you won’t have any teeth left.”
I had surprise on my side, but I forgot about the ‘roid rage. He starts back at me, rigid and puffed up. He lunges but misses when he’s grabbed by two men from the party. Megan’s boyfriend, Brad, takes one to the face from Devon, and that calms me down enough to stop fighting against the restraint of the two men holding me back. Shit. Megan is going to be pissed if Brad has a black eye in the family wedding pictures. And it’s all my fault.
Nash grabs the back of my collar and shoves me through a door near the back. “Cool down and go upstairs. We don’t do brawls in my pub, man.” He slams the door behind him when he goes back inside, and I realize I’m standing in the hall with the stairs leading up to Stella’s.
My adrenaline is racing. I should go home. I’m not in control right now, and I hate it. This is not me. Not how I want to be. I just started a bar fight. I don’t even know who I am anymore. What is happening to me?
I’ve never started trouble...anywhere before. I could have gotten arrested. Maybe I still could.
Did they kick Devon out, too? Is he standing on the street out front still? Maybe I should go check. Maybe what I need is to finish what I started with him. He deserves whatever he’s got coming—
“Christopher?” Stella is standing at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing bunny slippers and talking into her phone. “Yeah, thanks, Nash.” She hangs up. “Christopher, what is going on? Nash just told me to come collect my boyfriend from the hall in case you tried to go back inside the bar.”
I should be running out the door. Out of town. She should not look so attractive to me in her fuzzy slippers and mismatched pajamas. I shouldn’t be so hard from just seeing her in a hallway. I should not want her so much.
But I’m not thinking. I’m mad as hell about the way Devon talked about her. I’m pissed I didn’t get more punches in. I’m frustrated that I have lost the battle between my cock and my brain. And all the testosterone swirling inside me decides we need an outlet and we need it now.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Stella asks warily.
“Like what?” I say and take one slow step after another toward the stairs.
“Like a bull about to charge a matador.”
I smile and her eyes widen because I’m sure it’s not a friendly smile. It’s a predatory one. I take the stairs slowly, never losing eye contact with my prey. She wisely starts stepping backward toward her apartment door.
“Okay, now you look like Jack Nicholson just before he tells his wife ‘Here’s Johnny.’”
“Stella?” We’re in her apartment now, and I shove the door closed behind me.
“Yes?”
“We’re about to break your fucking bed.”
Chapter Eighteen
Christopher
Her eyes widen with shock and then she lifts her T-shirt over her head while kicking off her slippers.
There’s my girl.
I rip my own clothes off while she works on her pants on the way into her bedroom. I push her onto the bed and bite her ass. God, her ass. It’s a miracle. Round, juicy. I bite the other cheek.
“Christopher,” she looks over her shoulder at me, “what has gotten into you?”
“Three days of fucking you means I know exactly where to touch you to make you go off, baby.” And I do. I’ve mapped her body like I’m a cartographer of a new frontier. I can control her and dominate her orgasms. Lord knows that’s the only control I’ll ever have over Stella.
And the only control I have over Stella is when I’m completely out of control of myself.
She moans when I give her a love tap. “I want to be on top this time.”
I’m not an idiot, so I get on my back and bring her over me. “I’m at your mercy.” My hands slide up her back and into her hair, my fingers tangling in the strands as she rocks against me, hot and wet and already ready for me. “Be as naughty as you want.”
I punctuate my words with another little tap on her ass and she smiles. “You think you know me so well, but I have a few things I haven’t shown you yet.”
I expect chaos and a wild ride, it is Stella after all, but she slows down instead. Her eyes get softer and I can’t read her thoughts as she grinds slowly, sensuously, her mouth sliding over my cheek and down to my neck. I gasp when she nips the sensitive skin there. When her teeth clamp down lightly on my earlobe, I hiss and grab her hips, straining to get her in position, but she moves like liquid out of my grasp.
“Stella,” I moan, but her lips return to mine, kissing me deeply. Something changes between us. It’s more intimate. Like she’s pouring her heart into me, binding me to her.
Her hips rock a little faster, pressing more firmly, but it’s still too slow. I sit up so we’re chest to chest, skin to skin, and she shivers, arching her back. Our eyes meet and I’ve never known a feeling more perfect.
Everything I’ve been fighting against just disappears. All that matters is this woman. Suddenly, it’s all so clear. It’s laughable I didn’t figure it out sooner.
I’m in love with her.
Our lips meet once again, bodies pressed skin against skin, her pebbled nipples raking across my chest. We both groan at the sensation and I fist my hands into her hair.
I want to tell her. I want to tell everyone. But I know she won’t believe me if I say it now. I’ll just keep showing her until I break past all her defenses. Until she accepts that she’s mine. That we belong together.
She hovers over me, rubbing the tip of my dick through her soaking wet folds.
“Take what you want, Stella. It’s all yours.” I’m all yours.
She slides down my aching shaft slowly. God, so slowly. The precum is practically pouring out of me as I get enveloped in her heat. Her arms and legs are wrapped around me tightly, our eyes locked. We’re the center of a hurricane, the world spinning crazily around us as we hold still, locked in an embrace.
She squeezes her inner muscles around me, and I almost come. But then she pulls off me, and I reach for her, missing her heat. She evades my grasp and pushes my chest until I’m reclined on my back again. As she slithers down my body, she says, “Talk dirty to me, doc. I love it when you say nasty things to me.”
“Bring that pussy back up here. I can do better things with my mouth than talk.”
She shakes her head. “I still have things I wan
t to show you.”
She kneels between my legs and I know what’s coming next. She does nothing more than hover near my dick at first, her tongue flicking out of her mouth to slurp up the drops of precum as they form.
She looks up at me, eyes locking on mine and then softly rubs her cheek against the shaft of my cock, whispering so softly that I almost don’t hear her. “Would you like me to suck your cock, Christopher?” She pauses for effect as she drags her tongue from the base of my cock all the way up to the tip. “Is that what you want?” she asks, an innocent smile on her face.
I beg. I plead. She smiles and winks at me. One stroke...another...as she pauses to consider it. And then she smiles wantonly at me and dives onto my cock, licking and sucking with abandon.
Up and down at a snail’s pace, she bobs her head and hand, stroking me into her mouth as she devours more of me. I can’t stand it anymore. I have to come.
“Finish me, naughty girl.”
But she just keeps going at a slow and steady pace, building me up further and further as I struggle to maintain control.
“Stella...”
“Talk dirty to me, Christopher. My mouth is full.”
She looks up at me, eyes wide with desire as she sucks my cock back into her mouth. I wrap my fist in her hair and pull her against me, fucking her mouth nice and hard, pushing in and out as she sucks at the length of my cock.
“Where do you want it, Stella?” I hold her head still until she pauses. “You want me to cum inside you? You want me to pump your pussy full of cum? You’ve teased me so much... I’ll pump you so full that you’ve got cum running down your leg for a week after I’m done with you.”
She moans around my cock, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Oh, maybe you want me to come down your throat, pretty girl?”
I’m aching for release. I need to come, and I need it badly. She’s got me on the edge of madness.
She hums a soft tune against the base of my cock. The sensation is almost too much. After a moment of this, she pulls off my cock and starts sucking at my balls greedily.
“Jesus, you naughty little minx.” Nobody has ever done that to me before.
She crawls back up my body. “Where do you want to come, Christopher?” She bites my nipple playfully. “I’ll try to swallow it all up, but sometimes you come so much—”
Without letting her finish that delicious thought, I flip us over, grab her hips and ram my rock-hard cock deep inside her. “I'm going to fuck you, Stella, I'm going to fuck you good and hard. I want to hear you moaning and screaming and calling out my name as I pound your pussy. I want to feel you dig your nails into my back and feel you come, feel your pussy squeeze my cock so hard it hurts.”
I begin to pull out slowly, my dick getting squeezed and massaged every agonizing second. “Fuck, how do you do that? You’re perfect.” I thrust into her again, pressing hard against her walls, pulling out halfway then pushing back in. “You’re so tight and warm.”
I guess giving me head was getting her off too because already her entire body trembles as an orgasm washes over her.
“That’s one,” I say.
She opens her eyes and smiles at me. “Fill me up, Christopher.”
Oh, fuck. Those eyes. I pound her hard, hungrily. No more teasing. All I can think about is coming inside her. Giving her everything I am. She’s milking me eagerly, and my balls tighten.
Stella is chanting, “So good, so good, so good.”
Oh, it’s better than good. She feels amazing. Tight and hot and mine. Mine. That spurs me into a faster pace, and I lose myself in the scent of our sex, the grunts and groans we make, the squeak of her mattress.
I climax like a star burning in the night sky. On fire and dying. Pouring myself into her, I feel the sweat cooling on my skin, hear the sounds of our harsh breaths sawing the air. I roll to the side before I collapse and crush her, my pulse rioting under my skin. My God. I feel like an animal.
“That was so hot.”
I’m coming back into myself. Remembering who I am. Where I am. “Did I hurt you?”
“Would you stop asking me that? Did I once say stop or get off me? No, you didn’t hurt me. You made me feel alive and awesome and a little insane. But you didn’t hurt me.”
We’re filthy and sticky and my heart is still pounding like I’m running a race.
Abruptly, my eyes fly open, the heat cools, and my breath catches. “Stella, I didn’t...shit...I didn’t wear a condom.” My hand flies to her abdomen.
“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” she says lazily, falling asleep already.
It’s not okay. I was so reckless with her. I realize I don’t want her to be on the pill. I don’t want to wear a condom ever again, and I want my baby inside her. Now. But making that decision on my own, not thinking about the consequences, about what she wants and needs, was an asshole move.
But hell if I don’t want to fill her up with me again.
All my ideas about a sensible life, a moderate woman and well-behaved, planned children dissolve without me missing them. I want this. I want this crazy woman round and filled with my babies before we’re ready for them. I want spontaneous, laughter-filled hours with her in this fishbowl town. I want to roll my eyes every time she talks about her tarot cards for the rest of my life.
“Stella,” I say into the darkness, meaning to apologize for not pulling out. Instead, I say, “I love you.”
But she’s already asleep, so I curl around her and watch her dream. Hoping it’s me she’s dreaming about.
Chapter Nineteen
Stella
There is a little problem in the church vestibule.
Megan looks like she is about to kill everyone in a one-mile radius with her phone. She holds it out and screams at it. “What do you mean you’re in Las Vegas?”
Miranda and I exchange looks but neither one of us actually knows who she is talking to. Except that Dixie is late.
“Leo, how could you do this to me?” she screeches.
“I’m going to go get her some water. She’s going to need it.”
I shake my head. “Go find a groomsman. They all have flasks. She’s going to need that more.”
“It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”
Megan makes a noise that could open a portal into hell, and Miranda nods quickly. “All the flasks. I’m going to collect all of them.”
“Good idea.”
Megan hangs up the phone, and I pull her onto a bench. “Sit.”
“I can’t sit. There’s so much to do.”
“If your head blows off, we will never get our cleaning deposit back. Sit.”
She slumps onto the bench. “I can’t believe he did this. He left his bachelor party last night and dragged Dixie off to Vegas on a redeye. They were married by an Elvis impersonator an hour ago.”
That rat bastard stole my wedding plans.
“Megan...” How do I tell her that I’m pretty sure he rescued his bride from a wedding neither of them wanted?
“Poor Dixie. She lost her beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime dream wedding all because my stupid brother didn’t want to wear a cummerbund.” She buries her face in her hands. “Now what are we going to do?”
A man’s voice rings across the vestibule. “We’ll get married instead.”
We both look up to see her boyfriend Brad striding across the room with a ring in his hand.
“Brad?” my sister and I say in unison.
“I’ve had this ring in my pocket since February, but then Leo asked Dixie first, and you were planning their wedding and I thought I needed to wait because you couldn’t plan two weddings at the same time.”
Has he not met my sister? She could plan two weddings and the Olympics at the same time.
Her eyes are huge as she stares at the ring. “I... we...we can’t get married today. This is Dixie’s dream wedding. I can’t just...”
He gets on one knee and takes her hand. “You know I love you more than anyt
hing in this world, so I say this with love, but you know, deep in your heart, this is not Dixie’s dream wedding.”
“It’s not?” She watches him shake his head. “It’s not. It’s my dream wedding, isn’t it?”
He slides the ring on her finger. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you sooner. I felt like such a jerk watching you plan all this knowing it was what you wanted. But I knew you wouldn’t want to share this with another bride, so I was going to wait until they were back from their honeymoon.”
She stares at the huge rock on her hand. “But the license.”
“We’ll get the legal part done next week.”
“I’m just supposed to wear her dress?”
I intervene here. “Mom can do some quick alterations if you need it. You and Dixie are about the same size.”
I notice the vestibule is filling up with family as we all witness Saltine Brad really come out of his shell. “Megan Marie Stone, will you marry me? Today?”
She looks at me for an answer for the first time in our entire lives. I nod my agreement. She swallows hard and looks back at Brad. “Sure.”
Sure?
I nudge her with my elbow.
“Yes!” she laughs and launches onto the floor with him and into his arms. “Yes, I will marry you today.”
It’s not for hours that I finally feel done with this day and can relax and have fun at the reception. Megan and Brad got hitched without a hitch.
The flowers, the tulle, the cake, the colors...everything was exactly the way Megan always dreamed her wedding would be. She informed me she’s keeping all Leo and Dixie’s presents, too. I don’t blame her.
The first wedding dance has commenced and now the bridal party is filtering on to the dance floor. Christopher is right there when I need him and leads me to the group. He’s played patient, helpful boyfriend-to-someone-in-a-wedding-party all day, fetching things and moving tables and chairs as necessary. We haven’t had a minute alone until now, I’ll admit I’ve been avoiding it.
After today, there’s no reason to pretend to be dating anymore.
