I don’t think I’ve ever considered uttering the words coming out of my mouth right now. But if Brooke likes hearing how good I think she is, I’ve got plenty to work with.
She grips the seat of the stool, struggling to keep her eyes open and follow my instructions as her legs begin to shake. “Toby. I—” Her words cut off.
I don’t really need to hear them. The clench of her around me, milking my dick, is a clear enough indication of what’s happening.
It’s also more than enough to take me with her, my balls pulling tight, hips rocking in deep, sharp thrusts as I drop my forehead to hers, fighting to get enough air into my lungs.
I could probably stand to take a few more minutes to recover from the most intense sexual experience of my life, butthe woman I love is precariously perched on a stool, legs dangling from the panties tangled at her knees.
It’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my kitchen. By far.
Easing my body from hers, I slide the high heels off her feet before working her panties off and helping her up. Giving her bared butt a gentle swat, I angle her toward the stairs. “Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”
I follow behind her as we go up the stairs, hating myself for how much I like the glistening lines of my cum trailing down the inside of her thighs.
Just not enough that it won’t happen again.
26
Brooke
“Don’t you two look fantastic.” Deidre greets Tobias and me as we come through Titus and Mariah’s front door. She reaches out to smooth down the lapel of Tobias’s suit. “So dapper.”
She can say that again.
Tobias Bradshaw in a suit should be illegal. No one should look as good as he does right now. The worst part is, I can’t even really enjoy it because I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“And you.” Deidre turns to me, taking in the clean lines of my turquoise, ruched, sleeveless gown. “Stunning.”
“Thank you.” I slide one hand into a slit hidden in the side seam. “It has pockets.”
Deidre brings her hands together in a single clap. “Brilliant.” She points Tobias to the front room, where his brothers and father are collected around a group of chairs set into neat rows of two. “Go make sure Titus is doing okay.”
I can’t imagine Titus is anything less than ecstatic. His love for Mariah is undeniable and unmissable. There’s pride on hisface as he stands next to the officiant, grinning like he’s having the best day of his life.
He probably is.
Seeing Titus like this actually makes it a little easier for me to breathe, because it’s so different from how I imagine Matt was on the day of our ill-fated ceremony.
I don’t actually know why he was so determined to marry me. I never seemed to be good enough in any capacity. I wasn’t thin enough. Smart enough. I wasn’t a good enough cook or housekeeper. His friends didn’t find me to be charming enough and his mother said I had a funny looking nose.
“Come on, honey.” Deidre hooks one arm through mine, pulling me away from the front room and up the stairs. “Let’s go check on our girl.”
We go to the only door on the second floor not covered in plastic. Deidre gives it a sharp knock before letting herself—and me—in.
Mariah is sitting in a chair while Maren curls her long blonde hair. She looks absolutely radiant in a pale cream, floral printed chiffon maxi dress. The ruffled sleeves barely cling to her shoulders, displaying the lines of her collarbones. Her skin there has a slight shimmer that highlights the elegant curve of her neck.
“You look beautiful.” I can’t stop looking at her. The genuine smile on her face. The happiness oozing out of her pores as she chats with Maren and presses pale pink nails onto the tips of her fingers.
This scene is even more different from what I experienced than Tobias and his brothers were from Matt and his friends. Because Mariah isn’t marrying a man who spent years making sure he was all she had.
Deidre moves close to where the bride sits, reaching out totake one of her hands. Her expression is serious when she asks, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Mariah’s clearly confused, her brows pinching as she turns her head as much as possible with a chunk of hair wrapped around a curling iron. “What?”
“I’m asking if you’re sure you want to marry Titus.” She says it gently. Calmly. The same way she spoke to me the day she found me hyperventilating in a venue I didn’t choose, wearing a dress I hated, hair twisted into an updo that was picked out for me. “It’s important you know you can always change your mind. It’s never too late to decide something isn’t right.”
I swallow hard, because there’s not a doubt in my mind Deidre would get Mariah out of here if she said she didn’t want to go through with the wedding. She would whisk her away even though it’s her own son waiting at the altar.
