“I needed that,” he says, and I recall how he was stressing about some work project before we started fucking for theevening.
“Happy for my cock to be of service toyou.”
He laughs at me. “Okay, well, you need to focus again. We have too much todo.”
“Eh, and we have how much time to sort through allthis?”
“We only have three months left, and we’ve spent the last two fucking more than we have trying to hammer out thedetails.”
“Hammering a hole instead of hammering details sounds like a win for both ofus.”
Jesse offers that familiar pleasedsimper.
I hop up from the bed and grab him a towel. He wipes his cum off his abs and sets the towel down as I slide in bed beside him. Picking up the pamphlet of invitation designs, he asks, “So are we going with this one with the silver font? Why are you snickering atthat?”
“Seriously? After what we just did, you’re gonna sit there with your dick hanging out and my cum up in you still and ask thisquestion?”
“Having you still in me like this helps methink.”
I erupt into laughter. “And this is why I love you,Jesse.”
I steal a kiss, stolen because I know he’s trying to focus, but I make it difficult for both of us when all I want to do is take him onceagain.
“But seriously, if you don’t help me figure out at the very least the template for the invitations, I’m going to choose the silliest, frilliest one I can find. Maybe even pink andglittery.”
“All right, all right,” I say, raising my hands in surrender. “You got me. I’m all yours, Mr. Morgan.” I slide up beside him. “You know, I do likethat.”
“Thisone?”
“No,Mr. Morgan. I wouldn’t have a big problem with you calling me Mr. Morgan after we getmarried.”
“I’m fine with you calling me Mr. Westright. That always had a nice ring to it. We don’t have to make anything official,though.”
“Do I look like a Morgan?” Iask.
“Do I look like a Westright? What does that evenmean?”
“Will you just say it? Call me Mr. Morgan so I can see what it sounds like on your lips. How I likeit.”
“Mr.—”
Before he has a chance to get the word out, I kiss him again, and when I pull away, he says, “I’m starting to think you’re using all this fucking as a distraction from us getting some of these important details figured out, Mr.Morgan.”
The size of my grin, after hearing that name escape his lips in reference to me, tells me so much. “I do like that.Lovethatactually.”
His expression turns serious. “You want to take my lastname?”
“Maybe. It’s hard to imagine not being Eric Westright. I guess I would still do business as that maybe… I still need to think it through. I don’t have a lot of pride over being Eric Westright. No allegiance to the family name, but with yours, it means more. You, Stan, and Charlotte are what family is trulyabout.”
“We don’t have to rush figuring it out. We’ll be living with that decision for a long time, so I want you to be sure, if you do. But why do you look so concerned rightnow?”
I don’t even realize until he calls me out on it, but I’m making a very seriousexpression.
“I’m not concerned. It isn’t something I’ve ever imagined I’d have to consider. Or that I would have considered. Not with anyoneelse.”
He presses his hand against my face and kisses me. It’s a soft kiss, very different from the ones we offered when we were fucking a few moments ago. This is what I love about being with him—every variance, every nuance, every little moment reminds me of the vacillation between sweet and tender and rough and wild. It’s this dance we play through all the various facets of our emotions that make it so thrilling, so erotic, sobeautiful.
“Here we are, naked as fuck, your cock lying against your thigh as we peruse wedding invitations, deciding on taking last names,” Inote.
