Page 38

Seven Months Later

“I swear, I’m fine.” I sniffle, expecting my dad to laugh at me.

Instead, his own eyes are filled with tears.

He says nothing, but squeezes me a little tighter.

For someone who typically doesn’t cry easily, here I stand, in my dad’s arms during the father-daughter dance, trying my best not to let the few tears slipping from my eyes turn into full-blown streams. I know I’m being crazy; after all, it isn’t like anything is going to change.

The truth is, I never thought a man could ever love me as much or as genuinely as my dad did.

Since I was a kid, I’ve been a daddy’s girl.

No matter what interest I had through life—whether it was debate club, cheer, softball, dance, or the other random things in between—he’s been there, in the stands, cheering me on.

He’s seen me at my absolute worst, and he’s been there to high-five me at my best. His love has never and will never waver or falter.

“I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he murmurs because that’s all he can choke out.

“I hope you know that.”

I nod because if I answer, I’m going to end up crying all my makeup off.

I sat and had that shit put on for an hour—no way in hell am I fucking it up now.

Finally gathering myself, I swallow down the lump in my throat.

“Thank you, Dad. For setting the bar for what kind of man I deserve. God knows I veered off the path for a while and brought home some real ‘winners,’ but I hope you truly approve of Ryder.”

I glance up at him, but he doesn’t look at me.

Instead, he keeps his gaze anywhere else.

Clearing his throat, he gives me a subtle nod.

“You and Ryder are going to have a lifetime of happiness, Saylor. He sees you exactly the way I see you. Perfect the way you are.” Finally, his eyes shift to mine.

“He sees you as enough. And you are.”

That’s it.

That’s all it takes, and the tears I’ve been keeping sort of controlled are spilling from my eyes.

“Damn you.” I sniffle.

“You’re about to make me cry off my lashes. And I was so hoping they’d make it through the honeymoon because I don’t want to find a lash artist in France.”

The song comes to an end, and he leans down, hugging me tightly.

“I love you, sweetie girl. And I am so proud of the woman you are. And I know you’re going to be a damn good wife.” He winks.

“And maybe a mom too.”

“Hey now, I’m not rushing into that last one,” I say, giggling.

“Unless you’re offering to change the shitty diapers.”

“Not a chance, kid.” He gives me one last hug.

“And just think, in a few days, you’re finally getting that trip to France.”

I point at him, grinning.

“And not even the one at Epcot this time! Who would have thought I’d actually do it one day?” I sigh, smiling at him.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Sails,” he says before stepping back.

Behind him stands Gemma.

She looks stunning in her yellow dress because, yeah …

my bridesmaids wore yellow.

I’m that bride who chose the obnoxious color because I like yellow; it reminds me of sunshine and happiness.

And sunshine and happiness make me think of my husband.

“Can I cut in?” she whispers, tilting her head to the side.

My dad gives her a quick hug.

“Always, Gem.”

Once he releases her, she steps forward.

I didn’t have a song for her and me in the lineup, and looking back, I realize that was kind of stupid.

“Gem, I didn’t—”

As the song “Birds of a Feather” by Billie Eilish hits my ears, once again, my damn eyes are filled with tears.

When she holds her hand out, I take it, and there we are …

dancing like fools, like we’re little girls again without a single care in the world.

A mix of laughter and sobbing comes from both of us, and everyone else in the room disappears as I dance with my best friend.

My person.

Each of us has done a lot of growing up the past year, but we’ve done it together.

And just like my father’s love and now Ryder’s …

I know Gemma will always be by my side.

Because everyone needs someone they can call to help them hide a dead body.

It’s as simple as that.

Minutes later, after we cry and laugh, the song ends, and we hug each other tightly.

Even though nothing will change between us, we’re both emotional.

Luckily, my husband stops me from more crying when he comes beside us once Gemma releases me.

“Time to sneak away for a minute?” He winks.

“Or maybe … six?”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking.

“Six, huh?”

“You know I work fast,” he drawls, his eyes darting to Gemma.

“Can you help me out?”

She rolls her eyes, sighing.

“I’ll tell everyone you’re off taking pictures with the photographer and that you’ll return shortly.” She raises her eyebrows.

“But don’t take forever—do you hear me?”

Patting Ryder’s chest, I giggle.

“Trust me, he doesn’t need long.”

“Wow, that’s hurtful,” Ryder says, shaking his head but grabbing my hand.

“But, yeah … I don’t need much time.”

As he starts to tug me toward the exit, I yank my arm back to slow him down.

“Well, don’t make it obvious that we’re going to do the nasty in the middle of our reception!” I hiss lowly.

“That’ll make me look bad in front of my old-ass relatives.”

“We’re married now; it’s allowed.” He grins back at me.

“And before you ask says who , the answer is me. I say so.”

We got married next to a lighthouse on the beach and decided to have our reception in a field down the road that overlooks the ocean.

We could have used the inside part of the venue if it rained, but luckily, it’s been beautiful out for days.

When it came time to plan our wedding, I was so drawn to getting married near a lighthouse.

It seems so cliché for a girl who was raised along the coast of Maine to tie the whole nautical theme into her big day, I’m sure, but whenever I envisioned our day, I kept seeing the ocean.

Which is kind of ironic because Ryder is shamelessly scared of the sea.

I wanted this to be his day, too, so I didn’t push the whole married by the sea thing on him.

I told him we could even go back to his hometown in Kentucky and get married there.

Thankfully, he told me that Maine was our home.

So, after I showed him some venue ideas, surprisingly, we settled on a beautiful lighthouse with a long dock, where we could say our vows, and a large field beside the coastline to put up a huge tent for our reception.

Hands down, it’s been the most beautiful day ever, though I may be biased, obviously.

As he tugs me through the crowd, I smile politely, saying hello to everyone we pass, but we both pretend to act the part that we’re on a mission of some sort.

Gemma is going to cover for us, but I know we don’t have much time.

Exiting the tent, he keeps my hand tight in his and grins over at me.

“Look at you, Mrs. Horny Pants, leaving her own reception just to fuck her husband in the lighthouse.”

“This wasn’t my—” I stop, gazing from him to the lighthouse in front of us.

“Wait. You want to do it in there?” I wave my free hand toward the large structure.

“Seriously? What if someone comes in?”

Brushing me off, he chuckles.

“Relax, wifey, nobody lives in this one.” He gives me a wide-eyed stare.

“Well, aside from the ghosts, I’m sure.”

The buzz of the party going on in the tent grows fainter, the farther away we get.

My dress rustles around as I walk, taking slow and controlled steps.

The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks of the coastline and the smell of the salty ocean makes my heart flutter.

Home.

As we get to the steps of the lighthouse, I stop and stare up at it.

“It’s probably locked, Ryder.”

“It was,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Until I broke in earlier today and left it unlocked.”

Giving me a tug, he starts up the stairs, but when he looks down at my dress, he suddenly frowns.

“Oh shit. Sorry, baby. I’m a dumbass for forgetting that it’s probably not easy, walking around in that.” Leaning forward, he scoops me up in one solid swoop and holds me in his arms. Pausing for a moment on the stairs, he smiles.

“Goddamn, you’re so pretty.”

“I can’t decide if you’re being sweet to me or if you want me to give you a blow job since you know my dress is going to be impossible to take off and on in our allotted time,” I say, amused.

“You can suck my dick later, baby,” he says confidently.

“Right now, all I want to do is fuck my wife. And don’t worry; you won’t even have to take off your dress, sweetheart.”

His eyes stay locked with mine as he takes the last step and pulls the door open to the lighthouse.

It opens hard, and it smells like my grandmother’s attic in here—which isn’t a good thing.

It’s dark, eerie, and a whole lot of creepy.

But I don’t stop him from taking us farther inside the darkness because …

well, I really want Ryder to make love to me.

As my husband.

“Ryder,” Saylor whispers, “I want this too. So bad. But how the hell is this going to work? We can’t see in here. And my dress is so tight that—I’m not shitting you—I can hardly even breathe.”

“Trust me, Brat, it’ll work,” I utter, though I’m a little in over my head too.

Fucking your wife in a puffy, long, tight-ass wedding dress is no easy feat.

At all. But doing that while you’re in a creepy, dark lighthouse, trying to keep her dress from getting dirty and being on a time crunch?

Impossible.

Well, for most men.

Not me.

I’m not leaving this old-ass building until I’ve buried my dick inside my wife’s pussy and my cum deep inside of her heat.

Around the front of the lighthouse, the moon shines through the windows, lighting the room up just enough for me to see a chair.

Taking a few long strides toward it, I stop and set her down onto her feet.

Leaning my head forward, I cup her cheek before kissing her.

Her mouth instantly melts against mine, and her lips greedily attack my own.

“Do you have panties on?” I murmur against her lips.

“Y-yes,” she whispers.

“Let’s change that then,” I say before kneeling down before her.

Reaching my hand under all the layers of her dress, I skim my fingertips up her legs, past her knees, and to her thighs.

When I reach her heat, I brush my thumb across the fabric of her panties, already feeling them growing wetter.

Shoving the fabric to the side, I slide one finger and then another into her pussy, and right away, she whimpers.

“My wife is so fucking wet,” I say, pumping my fingers in and out of her a few more times.

“Tell me what it is you need. You know I love when you’re honest with me.”

I finger-fuck her lightly, never giving her too much or working her too fast.

“I need you to fuck me, Ry,” she breathes out.

“Please.”

Slowly, I remove my fingers from her and carefully peel her panties down her thighs and off of her legs.

When they get almost to the floor, she puts her hand on my shoulder as she balances herself to take one side off at a time while I pulled them over her heels.

After shoving them into my jacket pocket, I undo my pants and pull them, along with my briefs, down just enough for my cock to spring free.

I’m rock hard already, simply from playing with her pussy with my fingers.

My cock swells in anticipation, ready to feel her wrapped around me.

I sink down onto the seat and gaze up at her.

“You’re going to have to sit on my dick, okay?” I rasp, taking her in.

I’m still unsure how the hell I got this lucky.

“Think you can do that?”

Licking her lips subtly, she nods.

“Good girl,” I mumble and lean forward to push her dress upward so that she can straddle my waist. “Climb aboard, beautiful. Show me how slutty my hot wife is when it comes to riding my cock.”

Her leg lifts, and she pushes the fabric of her dress away, making sure none of it is at risk of getting dirty …

or covered in my seed, I’m sure.

Little by little, she sinks down.

It’s so quiet and dark in here, though I can see her beautiful face and the twinkle in her eyes.

Her pussy stretches around my swollen dick, and she hisses, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Take me inch by inch, baby. I’m yours. Forever.”

“Forever and always,” she whispers, dipping her nose down to mine just as she bottoms out and whimpers.

It’s just us and the moonlight shining through.

We’re family now. We promised in front of all of our loved ones to love each other—forever.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

“I was made for you,” I say, wrapping my arms around her body as she grinds harder on my cock.

“That’s why we fit together like this.”

“I love you,” she chokes out.

Her pussy feels so good.

And so tight. So warm.

And so mine. For-fucking-ever.

“I love you,” I say before I kiss her.

As she rides my cock, taking every inch of me like she was created to do just that, I hold her tight and kiss her hard.

I swear to fucking God, her soul slides into mine, and we become one.

We may be two bodies, but it feels like one damn spirit.

My head spins, and a tear spills from my eye because I’ve never felt so close to another person in my entire life.

I love her more today than I did yesterday.

And something tells me I’ll love her even more tomorrow.

“Ah … Ry, it’s too much,” she cries out.

“It feels too good. I need to come. Right now.”

She rocks back and forth, her pussy taking me so good and deep while it tightens around me, begging for every inch while she spins out of control and comes all over my dick.

I bury my face into her neck.

“Coming inside of you,” I grunt, my entire body beginning to shudder.

“That way, all night on our wedding night, you’ll be filled with your husband’s cum.” I bite her neck gently.

“And then later, once it’s dripped out of you, I’ll just fill you up again.”

“Yes,” she whisper-growls before she bites down on the fabric of my jacket.

“Ryder, please.”

Within seconds, I’m exploding like a fucking rocket right inside of my wife.

I cling to her like a wild animal, breathing heavily against her neck as a sheer layer of sweat begins to bead up on her flesh.

My whole body feels shaky, and the moonlight creates a weird illusion of dancing lights in my eyes, forcing me to squeeze them shut.

A few minutes—or ten—later, I look into my wife’s eyes and grin.

She lifts her hips up enough for my cock to slide from her heat, and right away, I miss her.

“Told you I could fuck you in that dress,” I drawl.

“Let’s get out of here before the ghosts decide to kill us now that the porno is over.”

Swatting my chest, she giggles and rests her forehead on mine.

“I love you, Mr. Cambridge.”

Reaching for her cheek, I cup it and nod.

“And I love you, Mrs. Cambridge.”

She gives me a kiss and grins.

“Let’s go before our guests realize the photographer is in there and they know that Gemma is lying.”

“It’d be worth it.” I wink.

“I just came so hard that I think I blacked out.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Now, where are my panties?”

I can’t fight the deep smirk that takes over my lips.

“Nah, babe. I think I’ll keep them.”

Her mouth hangs open, and she smacks my chest. “I can’t be commando on my wedding night.” She lifts herself off my lap and stands in front of me.

“Someone could see my vag.”

“Yeah, well, seeing as your dress goes to the ground, they’d have to be playing hide-and-seek in your dress to see that.” I grin amusingly.

“Which I plan to do later, by the way.”

I stand, fixing my pants, and she rolls her eyes at my words.

She doesn’t attempt to get her panties back from me because—let’s be honest—she doesn’t care if she wears them or not.

Grabbing her hand, I lead her out of the lighthouse and back toward our reception.

I’ve had sex with Saylor more times than I can ever count.

But that was the first time I had sex with my wife.

And it was totally worth the fact that everyone at the party probably knew what we’d disappeared off to do.