Page 52

Dell

Nine Months Later

“ S hut up,” Robyn hisses, slapping my tuxedo-covered arm and watching Zofia and Dominico toddle down the aisle dressed to the nines. Everyone in the church pews giggle as Zo stops in her tracks to dump all the petals in her basket halfway down the aisle. At the sound of the crowd’s laughter, Zo’s face scrunches and she cries, but Nico is there, wrapping his tiny arms around his twin sister to comfort her.

A collective Aww hushes over the crowd, including Robyn and myself, because how can you not? When the pair of them let go, they both ditch the flower basket and pillow holding the fake ring and walk hand-in-hand to their waiting mother and father at the end of the aisle. Raf’s brother Joaquín stands as best man, and Isaiah stands next, followed by Dane and Jonah. Next to Angie is her friend Cora and her sister Ivy.

The twins give their parents a hug, and they’re given to the grandparents in the front row before we all take a seat. Grabbing Robyn’s hand, I place a chaste kiss on the back of it. She looks gorgeous in her pale-green slip dress. From the tip of her head to the soles of her feet, she’s flawless, and she’s every bit mine as we are hers.

When the priest begins the ceremony, he’s only speaking in Spanish. Robyn and I exchange awkward glances because we don’t know the language, but we are in Mexico, we should have seen that coming. Language barrier aside, the wedding is beautiful, and it doesn’t take my understanding of the language to capture the essence. To see joy weep from their eyes and feel the couple’s commitment to each other.

Robyn’s painted nails dance along my palm, and I picture us up there standing with only Isaiah. How wild a concept —three people getting married to each other under the roof of a church. But the more I picture it, the more it isn’t.

I know Robyn and Isaiah are the end game for me. The two of them are everything I ever wanted in a relationship—I just didn’t know it was going to come in the form of two partners.

Isaiah catches my eye, and a little comment he once said passes through my mind yet again. About how he would dream about me fucking him.

“In my bed. In the back of a car. In a pool. On our honeymoon.”

Our honeymoon.

I never forgot about that. I’ve only been thinking about ways to make it happen. I want to see my rings on their fingers—so I’m shooting my shot.

Today.

Robyn lays her head against my shoulder and exhales a contented sigh as Angie and Rafael recite their vows. There’s a small curl to her painted lips, and the urge to kiss it buzzes through me. I love her happy.

It was no easy effort to get where we are now though, especially with her parents. Deidra and Chris Cassidy didn’t exactly welcome me and Isaiah until there was overwhelming support from the media and her fan base. Conditional love is something I’ve never been used to, and neither has Isaiah. But she’s been dealing with this dynamic for her whole life, and we get it—the love of a parent can be complex and nuanced. And sure, I was serious when I told Robyn I wanted to kill her mom for saying those awful things to her at her photoshoot, but there’s too much tied up in their relationship to cut them out. Yet. Isaiah and I aren’t keeping a mental tally or anything. No, nooo, we wouldn’t do that. We wouldn’t be waiting for the ideal time to strike—to suggest she cut her parents out of her life—if it means protecting our girl.

No, never.

For now though, we’ll play nice as long as they place nice.

Robyn met my family a few months ago, between Christmas and the new year, and my parents were head over heels for her just like they are with Isaiah. My entire hometown is now trying to claim the place as Olympic Rugby Player Robyn Cassidy’s hometown. The lie has been proudly displayed on billboards along the highway ever since she left.

Of course, my nephew Liam has been properly obsessed with Isaiah. During our last visit to Kentucky for his birthday, the three of us got the boy a year of piano lessons, but Isaiah didn’t feel like it was enough. So before we flew back to Philly, he took Liam to a musical instrument store where he picked out the cutest little guitar.

Zay is such a sucker for kids. He acts rough and tough, but those soft spots of his are the gooiest. I may have four percent body fat, but I love being one of his soft spots, too.

Since Isaiah stepped down from his position as head coach for the USA Valor, he’s been sinking all his extra time and energy into With You Rugby, his consulting and training program with his buddy, Kermit. It's been growing like wildfire. It certainly helps that he’s dating the most famous rugby player in the country. I love seeing him get so passionate about his work—his craft, really. He still has a heavy hand in the rugby community while coaching. Often he’ll talk through one of his team’s problems with Robyn, who is all too happy to figure it out with him, and then the team is all too happy when Robyn stops by practice for a visit.

When the wedding ceremony ends, Robyn and I make our way to the incredible hacienda where the reception will be, and Isaiah finds us soon after we arrive.

“You don’t need to take pictures with the bridal party?” Robyn asks after he places a kiss on both of our cheeks. We’re sitting on the edge of a reflecting pool, the sparkling clear water behind us, and I’m already dying from the heat even after removing my tux coat.

“No, we got most of them out of the way before the wedding.” Zay smiles. He takes a seat with Robyn in the middle, stealing a sip from her spicy margarita. “You two have me the rest of the night.”

“I saw you shedding a tear up there during the wedding,” I say with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. “It was sweet.”

Blush blooms over his cheeks and hides under his well-groomed beard before he shrugs. “My sister got married to one of my best friend’s,” he says. “I’m not made of stone.”

“I wish we could get married,” Robyn muses, her stare a million miles away. My heart skitters, and I’m pleased she’s bringing this up right now. I didn’t even have to lay my trap.

“We can,” I tell her with confidence born from a lot of time thinking this through. Isaiah and Robyn both look at me. “It doesn't have to be legal to be real, does it?”

The two of them turn to look at each other, their bodies tensing in realization. “I guess not,” she says. Zay blinks and draws his eyebrows together.

“What if we made that commitment to each other now?” I ask.

“Now?” Zay huffs.

I gesture toward the gorgeous hacienda filled with Isaiah’s friends and family mingling with cocktails and deep laughter. Palm trees, hibiscus, and agave planted everywhere create a serenely privacy.

“I’m not trying to piggyback on your sister’s wedding, but… we could keep it a secret,” I say, my voice low and smooth. We’re public about our relationship now, but there’s no denying how thrilling it was to sneak around and hide. Stolen kisses and secret sleepovers built tension, creating a naughty noise in our heads and lusty energy.

Robyn studies me, and a slow, faint smile creeps over her face. “You’re serious.”

With her hand in mine, I kiss it once again between, and it takes everything in me not to get down on one knee. But this is someone else’s wedding and my mama raised me better than that. “What do you say, darlin'? Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will!” she squeals. Before I can kiss her, she puts a hand to my chest and blocks it. “But not now.”

“Wh–why not?”

She throws an arm out wide to the whole party. “Because I want this. I want the white dress and the bridesmaids and the whole shebang!” She turns back to me and holds my hands. “I know I’m your princess, but I want everyone else to see me like that on my wedding day, too.”

God, I’m dumb sometimes. Of course she would want that, and I want to give her that. I want to give her anything she wants—anything that will make her happy.

I already know the answer, but I ask my beau anyway. “What do you think, Zay? Do you wanna marry our girl with me?”

“Of course I do,” he laughs nervously.

“I have one condition.” Both of them flick their shiny eyes to mine, but I look directly at him. “You have to marry me too.”

With that same smile he’s had the whole day, now bigger and brighter than ever, he stands up from the pool’s edge and crosses to me. When he’s between my legs, he caresses my face.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” he beams and lowers himself to kiss me. My entire body lights up like a Christmas tree—it’s warm and twinkling and there’s a choir of children singing.

Oh my god, I’m really going to not-marry marry these two.

A delicate, reassuring hand finds my thigh, and I sink deeper in love.

After a long, drugging kiss, Isaiah and I break apart. He stands straight up and looks around the venue before stepping in front of Robyn and kneeling. My heart jumps in my throat because he cannot be this dense to propose so publicly at his sister’s wedding. But he’s sly, this man.He bends over to adjust the strap of her heel as an excuse, and a radiant smile appears. “You’re the last piece, Robyn. Will you marry me, if I marry him?”

His question to her rings through me, and I can see his long, hard-won desire manifesting before our very eyes with his sunshine friend from college. The two of them making that commitment to each other after years of longing is finally here.

One perfect, happy tear falls from her hazel eye and drops to her dress. “Yes, Isaiah. Let’s finally get married.” Still holding her ankle, he tilts his head up as she leans down to meet his promising lips and my heart explodes.

We’re getting married!

The evening plays out like a dream, and I’m sure it would have been lovely if we hadn’t just agreed to marry each other, but it’s like I’m floating with them. I don’t care that some of Rafael’s Mexican family are watching the three of us with concerned looks as we dance and kiss all night long. I don’t care that Jonah took his shirt off and jumped into the reflecting pool. I don’t care that Dane’s normal scowl is mysteriously replaced by a smile as he stands by the bar, watching Joaquín lower himself to the dance floor as everyone gets a little bit softer now. A little bit softer now.

I most certainly don’t care that Robyn is dancing like a weirdo—like a beautiful, ridiculous weirdo.

She’s our weirdo. She’s our bad dancer.

And her kissing is just so bad, I think we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives practicing with her.

When the private driver I hired shows up around midnight, the three of us, covered in sweat and bliss, pile into the back. And when our driver pulls up to a different hotel than the one Isaiah and Robyn thought we were going to, they catch their breaths.

“Where are we?” she asks as we make our way through the historic lobby.

“Well, I sort of had a different plan for us tonight, and this was the closest hotel that had the suite that I wanted.”

“We had a suite in the first place,” Isaiah adds.

“Yeah,” I drawl. “But it wasn’t exactly the one I wanted.” The hotel front desk agent hands me the key and we head for the elevator. When we get to our floor and find the last room, their eyes round when they read the sign on the door.

Honeymoon Suite.

“Dell,” Isaiah exhales, but I simply pull him inside as he pulls Robyn.

“I’m sorry. I may have had a different vision for how tonight’s proposal was going to go. I may have jumped the gun.” I flip on the light switches to reveal warm light casting over sandstone tile floors, tan velvet drapes bracketing large double doors that lead out to a private patio and illuminated pool, and an arched ceiling with glittering teal and gold mosaic tile. There are deep red and chocolate brown rugs throughout, with a fireplace and small living room next to a large, inviting bed. On the table, champagne sits in a silver ice bucket next to three flutes.

“Dell,” they both whisper in awe.

“It’s pretty great, isn’t it?”

“I love it,” Robyn says.

Isaiah’s warm hand cradles mine. “Someone was a little eager.”

“I’ll make sure we have an even better one on our actual honeymoon.”

“And our stuff is already here?” Robyn asks excitedly when she peers around the corner.

I come up behind her, skimming her hips over the silk of her dress and pressing my growing erection into her backside. “You won’t need any of that.”

“What’s this?” she asks, ignoring my efforts. Two small gift boxes sit on the dresser. She grabs one wrapped in cream and gold paper.

“Those would be your engagement rings. Though, I thought they’d be wedding rings tonight.”

Beaming, Robyn snatches the black and gold box and hands it to Isaiah before hauling us to the bed and tearing her gift open like a five-year-old. As soon as the ring box is pulled from the box, she lets out a high-pitch squeal and flings it open to reveal a three-carat oval cut diamond ring.

“Holy shit! This is beautiful!”

“I’m glad you like it. It was my grandmother’s. I had it redesigned to be a little more modern and… more like you.”

Robyn nudges Isaiah, who’s sitting there slack-jawed. “Open yours,” she demands with crazy eyes.

He shakes out of it and tears into it. A single thick, gold band with a line of black diamonds running through the middle shines up at him from its cushion.

I really took a risk with his ring since I had no idea what kind of jewelry he likes. He always says he likes mine, but I didn’t know how that translated to his style.

“If you don’t like it we can return it and get— ”

As quick as my anxiety came on, it’s squashed when he wraps me up in that delicious bear hug of his. “It’s perfect,” he murmurs into my neck, his full beard soft yet coarse against my skin. He pulls away just enough to find my eyes. “I can’t believe you did all this. I never thought I’d ever be proposed to.”

“Hey, what about me?” Robyn cuts in. “I asked you to make a marriage pact with me, didn’t I?”

He chuckles, “You did, you’re right. I just meant… you know.”

I kiss him and touch his lower back. “I know.”

He lets me pull out his dress shirt from the waist of his pants and take off his tie, his own erection growing with each purposeful pull. Robyn’s already squirming next to us when I slough off his white shirt and gaze at his strong body—at his sweet belly, dusted with dark hair, that I love to snuggle into.

By the time we’ve completely divested ourselves of our clothes, we’re revved up and ravenous. I’m so keyed up I have to promise them I’ll take it slower for the next round, but I can’t hold back any longer. The need to fully claim my fiancés claws at me like an addiction.

I lay my future husband on his back and position my future wife over him—their mouthsfusing, their tongues rolling. Robyn’s pretty little cunt searches for me behind her while coating Isaiah’s thick, bare shaft.

She’s showing a lot more restraint than I am, but her needy, canting pussy isn’t as needy as me. With a swift hand, I grab the rod between Isaiah’s meaty legs and align it to her opening, guiding her down in a rough motion. They both groan the prettiest sound I could ever hear.

“Doesn't our future wife have the sweetest pussy?” I ask and before Isaiah replies, my tongue is lapping around his shaft and her lips.

“Yes,” he rumbles, spreading her ass for me.

Don’t mind if I do…

Robyn gasps when I move my ministrations to her tight, puckered hole and feast. Isaiah slams into her—clap after clap, their skin thunders under me. She cries out our names and even through my desire-soaked brain, I wonder what those names will sound like in the future. Will we keep our last names? Will we share? Thinking through the possible combinations abruptly stops when I realize she’s coming.

She rides his cock and my tongue until she’s almost a pile of goo atop him, her legs shaking. That’s when I sit up and push the head of my cock at her drenched and occupied cunt.

She hums, “Hurry. Please, Daddy. Just shove— ahh! Yes! ”

She asked for it.

I thrust in fast, my dick rocking in and out of her as Isaiah and I quickly find our rhythm. All that practice, you know?

I’m obsessed with this view of her stretching to fit us both—holding our lengths inside her so we can find our pleasure not only in her body, but with each other, too. I'm obsessed with her touching and writhing against our lover. Of her strong back and wide shoulders, flexing and rolling for my viewing pleasure. Of Isaiah’s deep-blue eyes finding mine from beneath her—as if to say Forever.

Like I knew I would, I’m rapidly approaching my release, so I hastily find her clit and press in while teasing her saliva-coated back entrance with my other hand.

And there she goes, falling over the edge and crying out her climax. She rewards our cocks with her inner walls contracting, and neither of us last after that. We’re both jerking and grunting through jet streams of cum, filling her up and claiming them both.

Claimed, my hindbrain sighs. Mine.

Robyn is giggling when I pull out. Sometimes she can get a little slap happy from a good dicking, and I like her like that. I like it even more when the two of them lay there and let me clean up, drinking every last drop from their bodies.

The pair of them close their eyes, but I’m far from done with them. Before Robyn can snuggle into Isaiah’s body, I pick her up and take his hand to strut out of the room, through the double doors, and with no hesitation, jump into our private pool.

When we surface, Robyn’s playfully slapping my shoulders and gasping at the temperature shock. It’s not too cold, but it’s definitely unexpected.

Laughter echoes through the night air as each of them koala me. With Isaiah on my chest and Robyn on my back, their legs wrap around me as we glide through the illuminated water, and float into our future.