Page 120 of June: Jess' Story

“It’s two lots, actually. Right beside each other. And you can choose whatever you want. I don’t care, just as long as it’s us. As long as you’re mine”

“Y-yes!” I blurt out my answer mindlessly, then throw myself at him on the ground. He catches me, pulling me up into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist as he stands.

“Promise it’s just me and only me?” I ask. It sounds a bit desperate, I know, but with Damian, I don’t care. He never makes me feel less than for any of my worries. And in turn, it has the effect of making me completely unworried. About him, our future, or who I am to him.

“Haven’t been in love with anyone else since our night, J.”

“Really?” I pull back, holding his face in my hands.

“Really.” He has tears in his eyes. “I’ve loved others, but neverin love. Never obsessed, never not thinking aboutyou.” Fuck, I love him.

“Do the girls know?” I ask, nodding towards the ring on my finger, then wiping a tear off his face with a thumb.

“You’re kidding, right?” Yeah, the girls know. They exploded when he told them we were dating. (In the best way.) I think they described it as the ‘step-mom jackpot.’ (Even Caroline came around to the idea pretty quickly.) “They’re waiting for us.” He drops a kiss on my lips and his short stubble slides against my skin deliciously.

“Well, that was a mistake,” I laugh, “because all I can think about is staring at the rock on my hand while fisting your hair as you eat me out.”

“Goddamnit, babe.” He drops his forehead to mine and I laugh at his groan.

“Kidding, but later. Promise?”

“Promise.”

EPILOGUE

Jess

I stare at the band of oval diamonds stacked against my pear-shaped rock, the light bouncing off the stones and refracting against the dark-tinted windows of the limousine.

“Is this mess for me, wife?”Wife. I smile.

My dress is slid up, and he runs another finger against my naked sex, then groans.

“You know it is,” I say, then turn to kiss him as he massages my damp clit gently.

“Lay back.” I do, tossing my bouquet onto a nearby seat.

He kneels down and pools the white silk to my abdomen, and then he’s eating me, like I’m an oasis and he’s in the desert.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Damian,” I moan, then slide my hand into his perfectly coiffed hair, watching the disco ball effect my rings send around the small space.My hand in his hair, his rings on my hand, his tongue on my clit.

“Baby,” I moan again. “I want to make one of your fantasies come true.” He stops feasting to stare up at me.

“Fill me up? Watch me walk around my ex husband and ex fiancé with your cum dripping out of me? Please?”

He pulls away, and I watch as his mouth twists into a smile. “You’re my fucking dream girl, you know that?” he asks. I know. Because he’s my dream, too. This isourmessy dream.

He unzips his Tom Ford tuxedo trousers and my man is all ready for me. I instruct him to sit down and then I’m on top of him and sliding down.

“Mine.” I say to him once he’s filling me completely.

“Only yours.” And then I start moving. He throws his head back in ecstasy before saying, “Fuck, baby…what are you doing?” Then his hand is on my hip, another in my hair pulling me down hard.

“I’m spelling my name.” I smile then make an “s” with my hips.

“That’s good because you fucking own me.”