Judge Whitaker clears his throat, voice warm and official but still carrying gentle amusement. “Then let’s do this properly.”
The words come fast and sure. Forrest says “I do” in that deep, steady voice. I say “I do” with my heart in my throat and a smile I can’t contain. Rings from the judge’s desk drawer slide onto our fingers. Mabel hands me the little bouquet with a happy cheer. Ryder whoops and claps Forrest on the back.
“You may kiss your bride,” the judge says with a warm smile.
Forrest doesn’t hesitate. He cups my face in his big hands and kisses me—deep, claiming, and full of all the heat and promise that’s been building between us since that first little thunk in the parking lot. I kiss him back just as fiercely, fingers fisting in his flannel, the whole world narrowing to the feel of his mouth on mine and the solid strength of the man who just became my husband.
When we finally pull apart, both of us breathless and grinning like fools, Judge Whitaker slides the marriage certificate across the desk.
“There you go, folks. Official as can be. Take good care of each other.”
We thank him in a happy daze, signing where he points and laughing when our signatures come out a little wobbly from the moonshine and pure excitement. I tuck the certificate into my purse, and then we’re back outside under the starry sky, newly married, buzzing with joy, and still holding hands like we never plan to let go.
Ryder drives us to Forrest’s cabin, stolen kisses at every stop sign, and the wild, wonderful knowledge that we just did something completely reckless and completely right.
Chapter Four
Forrest
We pull up to my cabin just after midnight, newly married and still riding the wild high of moonshine, laughter, and the craziest decision of our lives. The porch light I left on casts a warm glow over the log walls I built with my own hands. Sloane sits beside me in the truck, her fingers laced tightly with mine, the simple gold band on her left hand catching the light every time she moves.
Ryder smiles as we get out of his truck, shaking his head with a laugh. “You two are insane, but damn if you don’t look happy. Congratulations.”
Forrest claps him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the witness duty and the ride.”
“Anytime. Now go enjoy your wedding night, you crazy kids.”
I turn to Sloane. She’s flushed, eyes bright, lips still swollen from the kisses we stole on the way here. My wife. The word hits me like a punch to the chest — equal parts terrifying and perfect.
“Ready to go inside, Mrs. Kane?” I ask, voice low and rough.
She bites her lip, that sassy spark flashing in her eyes even through the buzz. “Only if you promise to carry me over the threshold like a proper husband.”
I don’t hesitate. I climb out, circle the truck, and open her door. Before she can step down, I scoop her up in my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist like they were made to be there. She laughs against my neck, the sound warm and bright, as I carry her up the steps and push the door open with my shoulder.
The moment we’re inside, I kick the door shut behind us and press her back against the nearest wall, mouth crashing down on hers in a deep, hungry kiss. She meets me just as fiercely, fingers tangling in my hair, tongue sliding against mine. The taste of moonshine and her sweetness flood my senses, and I groan into her mouth, grinding my already hard cock against her core.
“Fuck, Sloane,” I rasp when we break for air. “Been dying to touch you properly since the second you said ‘I do.’”
“Then stop talking and do it,” she whispers, nipping at my bottom lip. “I’m your wife now, big guy. Show me what that means.”
That’s all the invitation I need.
I peel her sweater off in one rough motion, tossing it somewhere behind me, then unhook her bra and let it drop. Her breasts spill into my hands. They’re perfect. I lower my headand take one tight nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while my thumb teases the other. Sloane arches with a sharp gasp, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“Yes, Forrest, oh God…”
I switch sides, lavishing the same attention on her other breast until she’s writhing against me, moaning my name. My hands slide down her body, unbuttoning her jeans and shoving them down her legs along with her panties. She kicks them off, standing completely naked in front of me, flushed and beautiful and mine.
I drop to my knees right there in the living room, spread her thighs wide, and bury my face between them. The first taste of her sweet pussy rips a groan from my throat. I lick her slowly at first, then faster, sucking her clit into my mouth while two thick fingers slide deep inside her. Sloane cries out, one hand fisting in my hair, hips rocking shamelessly against my face as I work her closer and closer to the edge.
“Forrest, I’m, fuck, don’t stop.”
She comes hard, thighs trembling around my head, her sweet taste flooding my tongue. I keep licking her through it, drawing out every shudder until she’s gasping and shaking.
I stand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and lift her again. This time I carry her straight to my bedroom and lay her down on my big bed. I strip off my clothes in record time, my cock heavy and aching as it springs free. Sloane’s eyes darken when she sees me, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“Come here,” she whispers, reaching for me.
