Six Weeks Later
“Isthis what I think it is?” Celeste asks, looking at the marquis sapphire diamond I placed on her ring finger without so much as saying a single word. This morning, I left the bed while she was still asleep, sneaking off to my home office, where I grabbed the ring and pocketed it in my gray sweatpants. I didn’t want to wake her, not after keeping her up most of the night. At least this morning went uninterrupted, but with this on my mind, I was too keyed up to stay asleep or lie in bed much longer, and there was no reason to wake her up with my restlessness.
“Yeah, sweetheart, it is.” She came out to the balcony, a cup of coffee in her hand, mine sitting on the table beside us, our chairs so close together that Celeste’s legs can be tossed over my thighs. The shirt she nabbed on her way out of the bedroom is one of mine. Always stealing my shirts to wear. The way she goes through them, we’ll either have to start doing laundry more often, or I’ll have to stock up. Especially on the cotton ones. There aren’t too many days a week when I can get away with wearing jeans and a shirt.
“Wylder Hayes, you we’re just going to slip this on my finger without asking or at least telling me why it’s there?” Celeste knows I’m not a man of many words. When I have something to say, I say it. Her giving my hell with that soft and sweet smile, eyes glistening with wetness, it’s clear she needs the words this morning.
“Celeste Reyes, the ring is already on your finger. My intentions have been clear since the beginning. No matter what the circumstance, I wasn’t going to give you up. Even when you thought I was already married to my sister.” We both chuckle. Celeste snorts. I laugh. What a fiasco that was, and still, to this day, Journey and our mother give me hell over it. “I want my last name attached to yours. I want you as my wife, as my partner, and as the mother of our children.” She launches her whole body into mine. I barely have the time to hold the two of us up so the chair doesn’t tip backward before her lips crush mine in a fierce kiss, full of happiness. My tongue wraps around hers. There was a moment when it was pure silence and I was worried I’d have to get on my knees, spread her thighs, and use my mouth, spelling out ‘Will you marry me’ with my tongue along her clit. Fuck, I may still do that with the way her kiss is matching me, how she’s wiggled to straddle my lap, knowing that there isn’t a stitch of clothing beneath my white cotton shirt she’s wearing, one tug of my sweat pant is all it would take.
“Wylde.” Her lips leave mine. Her eyes open, flush with desire.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I can feel a question lingering between us, making me think there’s something she isn’t telling me. We’ve talked about starting a family. Celeste wasn’t opposed, and I’ve seen her with Von. She couldn’t be a more devoted aunt. Most recently, our balcony now has a deck box full of pool toys just for Von when he comes over. I was right beside her when we went to the store and added shit to the cart that I’d think he’d like. It’s what made me realize there’s a deep-seated need to see her with children of our own, going so far as to tell her I wouldn’t mind if she threw away her birth control that night. It didn’t go over well. Of course, that’s probably because I didn’t say it that way. My mouth got ahead of me and took it to a whole new level. That was probably one of the worst arguments we’ve had. It took a fuck ton of apologizing while still letting her know I’m not getting any younger and I’d like to start on our family sooner rather than later.
“I love you, and I know we live in Las Vegas, but I do not want an Elvis officiant to marry us.” All that worry, and it was for that.
“Love you, too, sweetheart. And you don’t have to worry about that. Between both of our moms, I think we’ll have a hard time getting a voice in the matter, but I can assure you neither of them would allow us to be married by Elvis.” Laughter bubbles up inside her. She’s giggling uncontrollably, burying her face in the crook of my neck.
“That was really dumb to be worried about, wasn’t it?” She sighs, not giving me her eyes, instead nestles in further while my hands hold her tightly.
“Nah, I mean, you hear about people coming to Vegas to get married by an Elvis impersonator. That’s not for us, though.” Not that I want some big extravagant wedding. Something small would be perfectly fine with me. There’s something about inviting over five hundred people that makes my skin want to break out in hives.
“You’re right. I can’t wait to be your wife.” She leaves her worries behind, the heart of her coming out.
“Fuck, yeah, we’ll make it happen, and soon.” I kiss her again. This time, I’ll be taking this further. My future wife’s shirt will be off, and her tits will be in the palm of my hands while she rides my cock. It’s a perfect start to the day.
Epilogue
CELESTE
Six Months Later
There’sa pep in my step. This morning when I woke up, it all clicked into place. Wylder and I are married now, have been for four months. When he said soon, he definitely meant that. I was glad, too. Wylde has some lofty goals, and as he’s approaching forty, those goals need to come to fruition. Which is why I’m at the hotel and casino on my day off, a day I usually spend at home or running errands. That’s not the case today.
“Hello, Mrs. Hayes,” Pierre greets me as I make my way towards his desk. Just beyond it is Wylde’s office.
“Hello, Pierre. Please call me Celeste. You’re practically family.” He’s out of his chair, arms open and ready to give me a hug. I do the same. Journey is still trying to work on hooking him up with a family friend, both of them deserving to have love in their life. It hasn’t happened yet, but I have a feeling it will soon.
“Fine, Celeste, he’s on the phone, but you can head on in. I’ll make sure you two aren’t interrupted.” He winks at me as we pull apart. He walked in on us one time, not that we were hot and heavy; most of that was my fault because I forgot to lock the door.
“Thank you.” We air kiss each other’s cheek, Pierre’s thing he’s known for, a life full of zest that you can’t help but love him.
“No problem. I think I’ll go ahead and take my lunch. Let Mr. Hayes know the calls are forwarded to the answering service, please.” That might be a good idea for Pierre. I don’t tell him that; instead, I squeeze his hand and make my way towards my husband. My plan is in motion, one that’s going to require him being quiet for a change while also laying a few cards out on the table.
I open the door, staying quiet. A grin greets me. Wylde is on the other side of his desk, phone in his hand, already beckoning me to come his way. I have something to do first, including locking the door. The next will definitely have him doing more than smirk. With any luck, it’ll have him swallowing his tongue.
“Come here,” he mouths quietly. My hands go to the hem of my dress, pulling it up, revealing the lace thong as it goes up. I hear a groan come from the back of his throat, a groan he’s attempting to cover up with a cough. Of course, I lose a visual of him as the fabric slides up even more, the lace of my bra abrading my hardened nipples at the knowledge that Wylde is already on edge.
“Yes, I’m here,” he grunts to the other person on the phone. The dress floats to the ground. I step out of my shoes because for what I’m about to do, they won’t be necessary. My steps are slow and seductive as I unclasp the front closure of my bra, rolling my shoulders until it falls off my body. It’s only when I’m standing right beside Wylde that his hand reaches out to my hip, squeezing it, trying to get me in his lap to wrap his mouth around first one nipple, then the other. I never knew just how much of a tit and ass man Wylde was until he verbalized it. Though, it should have been a clue when he left a hickey on my ass and could make me cum by playing with my nipples alone.
“No.” I shake my head and drop to my knees, attacking his belt. The button gives way quickly, the hiss of the zipper echoing in the quiet room, and he’s finally in my hands. God, I love that Wylde doesn’t wear anything beneath his clothes. You see, I have more than one gift to give him today. This is only the first.
“We’ll continue this conversation at our next meeting.” My head is lowered, mouth open and ready to take the mushroom-shaped head into my mouth, not even teasing him. I’m hungry for Wylde, needing the taste of him on my tongue. He has other ideas, though. One of his hands makes a ponytail with my hair, and he’s pulling me away.
“Wylde, no, this is for you,” I say, but he’s not allowing it.
“Want you on my desk, thighs spread open, my cock inside you. Are you going to deny me that pleasure?” he asks. God, when he puts it like that, it’s hard to deny him.
“No,” I tell him because damnit, he’s right, and the second part of the gift I want to give him would be better with him inside me anyways. The chair he is in rolls back as he stands up. He picks me up and places me exactly how he wants me. If there were a mirror, it would show just how lewd this scene is. My center is dripping for him, ripe and ready for the taking, and when he rips the remainder of his clothing off, that’s when I say, “Wait, there’s something I want to tell you.”