Rival (21 page)

Father brought us around to sign our parts under “Groom” and “Bride,” and then Jared and Tate came around to sign as witnesses, also having to print their names at the bottom with Father McCaffrey as the officiant.

“Everyone quiet now!” Father shouted to the fifteen or so people in the bar. They quieted down and turned to us, finally noticing what was going on behind them. The bar fell silent as the music was cut off, and Madoc turned to me, taking my hands in his as they hung down between us.

Father began the short service, but I barely heard him as I looked up at Madoc. His blue eyes that always held a bit of mischief. His angular jaw and high cheekbones that looked even more amazing when they were wet from a pool or shower. His broad shoulders that could encapsulate me with warmth.

But what I thought of most as Father bound us together was how little I was thinking about myself right now. Forever since I can remember, I’d thought about how much I hated my mother or missed my father. I thought about the disappointment and the anger, the wrongs and the loneliness.

I dwelled on the past, not realizing that it kept me from moving forward.

Now it was gone.

It wasn’t forgotten, of course. It just didn’t matter anymore.

This was my future, and as Madoc put the ring on my finger, I knew the best part of my past was right here with me.

I glanced at Tate, who watched with love in her eyes, and Jared, who had his arm around her, and the happy tears spilled down my cheeks.

Madoc smiled, grabbing me by the back of my neck and gently bringing my head into his chest. “Finish, Father,” he ordered over my head. “She needs to be kissed.”

The laughter in his voice was intoxicating. And I definitely needed to be kissed.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Madoc wasted no time. Wrapping a quick arm around my waist, he hauled me off of my feet and kissed me hard, his lips shooting a lightning bolt of desire from my mouth straight down to my stomach. I held his face in my hands, and turning my head to the side, I kissed him back with full force.

Keeping me locked to him, he turned us and walked us out of the small space.

“Thank you.” I grinned back at Father McCaffrey over Madoc’s shoulder.

Madoc called to the bartender over my shoulder. “Do you have any music?”

“U2,” the middle-aged guy answered.

Madoc scowled. “Is that it?”

“That’s all a man needs.” I heard the answer and started laughing in Madoc’s ear.

He sighed. “Something slow then.”

Lowering his hands, he cupped the bottom of my thighs and brought my legs up and around his waist. Next thing I knew chairs started grinding against the floor, and when I looked around, everyone in the bar was pushing back the table sets to make a dance floor.

U2’s “All I Want Is You” started spilling softly out of the speakers, haunting at first as it drifted into our ears. Madoc started swaying from one foot to the other, moving us from side to side. I put my
forehead to his, listening to him whisper the words to the song and fighting back the burn in my eyes. As the song built stronger and louder and we moved more, spinning slowly and every once in a while, I placed a kiss on his lips.

All I want is you.

MADOC

A
s soon as we left Sovereign’s, Fallon and I drove to the Waldorf Astoria for our honeymoon night. Tate thought we should all go out to dinner, but Jared got the hint.

The whole drive there, as the valet took the car, and during check-in I kept rubbing the inside of my pinky finger over the flat fit platinum wedding band. The discomfort of something new when I never wore jewelry—except for my piercing—contrasted to the hum I felt in my hand.

It was weird, but it was also powerful.

The ring reminded me that I was Fallon’s. It reminded me that I was her protector, her lover, and her partner.

Eventually it occurred to me that the ring also meant I couldn’t come and go as I like, I couldn’t look at other women, and I was probably the only person in my high school graduating class that had a wife already, but I didn’t care much about what others thought now.

I was cool with this. It was right for us.

By the time we reached the elevator, Fallon’s hands were doing
things that technically weren’t allowed in public, and I was really fucking glad Jared and Tate had given us space.

Fallon had her hand under my coat, kneading my lower back. She was burying her nose in my chest as I walked with my arm around her. Her eyes were looking up at me saying everything that was in her head but couldn’t leave her lips.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, I pushed her into the wall and leaned down into her face, her hot breath rushing against mine.

“Fallon Caruthers,” I challenged, pushing hard against her body. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?”

Her fingers started working the button of my shirt under my open jacket. “I’m sorry,” she panted against my lips. “I’m just really ready for my husband right now.”

And all at once her hands were inside my shirt, all over my bare chest, and my bottom lip was between her teeth. I grabbed her by the back of her thighs and hauled her up against the wall, diving into her mouth and tasting the raw heat that sent my cock jerking and hardening. I needed to get these fucking clothes off of her.

“And I’m not changing my name,” she said between kisses.

I felt the laugh in my throat that I thought would be a really bad idea to let loose right now.

It was my wedding night. I wanted to get laid, after all.

“Yes, you will,” I stated matter-of-factly as I put my hand between her legs and rubbed.

The elevator stopped, and I dropped her feet to the floor. Thank God no one was outside the doors, because we were flushed and breathless.

Dragging her by the arm, I dug the card key out of my coat pocket.

“Well, I’ll hyphenate it then,” Fallon mumbled behind me, and I took a second to remember she was talking about our last names.

“No, you won’t.” I slipped the key in, opened the door, and pulled her in. “Hyphenating your name is like saying ‘I just don’t want to admit defeat’ when the truth is women who hyphenate their names have already lost. Men don’t hyphenate their names.” I pointed out, slamming the door behind me as I dug my slow heels into the plush carpet, stalking her. “Now. You are going to be Fallon Caruthers, because you love me, you want to make me happy, and you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

She had about enough time to drop her jaw and for anger to flare in her eyes before I was on her. Taking the hair at the back of her head, I pulled it down to expose her neck, and I sunk my lips and teeth in, biting and kissing so hard and soft that she wouldn’t know which end was up.

Truth was I was an easygoing guy. For the most part. But my wife would have my name, or else.

It wasn’t about controlling her, and it wasn’t about stealing her identity or whatever women liked to claim these days. It was about unity. We and our kids someday would have the same goddamn name, and that was it.

Hopefully she knew when some battles weren’t worth fighting.

And that’s when it hit me.

I pulled back and closed my eyes, running my hands through my hair.

Kids.

“Shit,” I groaned. “I forgot condoms.”

I heard her sympathetic exhale that sounded almost like a laugh. I looked up, scowling. This wasn’t funny. I was harder than a rock right now.

“I’m sorry.” She waved away the angry expression on my face. “We’re fine, Madoc. I’ve been on birth control for a long time, actually. Ever since . . .”

Her eyes dropped.

The knot in my heart twisted tighter and tighter, and without hesitation, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her into the bedroom.

Ever since the abortion,
she was going to say.

Since I’d found out about it, I’d had a hell of a time figuring out how I felt about it. I wished we’d had the kid, but I’m glad we didn’t. Which didn’t make sense, but it kind of did.

On the one hand, I hated that Fallon had to go through that. I hated that we weren’t more careful. I hated that she was alone. I hated that someone else—someone I hate—made a decision about my kid without me.

On the other hand, I knew we were too young. I knew it probably would’ve changed our lives in a way that wouldn’t have been beneficial. I knew that I wanted a house full of kids someday, but I didn’t want them yet.

Final verdict: I’ll be a good father. And I’m glad I get to wait to find out for sure.

Setting Fallon down next to the bed, I planted my lips on her, damn near chewing on her I was in so much need, and ripped off my coat and shirt. After I’d kicked off my shoes, I started working the button and zipper of her jeans.

“No,” I growled low when she started undoing her shirt. “Leave it on. I undress you tonight.”

Slipping my hands inside the back of her jeans, I couldn’t help but run my hands up and down her smooth ass in her thong. As I pushed her pants down her legs and bent down to slide her shoes and jeans off, I breathed out a long breath, thankful she wasn’t doing anything right now.

As much as I wouldn’t change the nights we spent together years ago, I needed to redeem myself. A little more, at least. Going after
her like a starving pubescent teen who can’t hold his load wasn’t how this night was going to go.

Slow.

She wore a tiny black thong, and her white blouse fell just below her hips. She looked down at me, heat and patience in her eyes, and just waited for me to make my move.

Unbuttoning her shirt, I felt the quick and shallow rise and fall of her chest under my hands. Sliding it down her arms, I kept it clenched in my fist and tightened as I felt a surge of blood rush to my cock.

She wore a matching black see-through bra, which I didn’t expect. The white blouse didn’t reveal it. Her breasts were perfectly visible through the sheer material, and I rubbed my hand over her hard nipple.

I touched her face, my thumb running along her bottom lip. “You’re a dream.”

She opened her mouth and took my thumb in, sucking on the length, drawing it out slowly. Every nerve in my body hummed like it had just fallen asleep.

Taking my hand back, I reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, pulling it forward and letting it drop to the floor. Then I took the blouse still in my hand and threw it behind her and slipped it up her arms again.

As I met her eyes, I saw the question there, but what can I say? I used to give her crap about her clothes and how much she’d hide, but it turns out I liked girls with mystery.

Pushing her down to the bed with a soft hand, I guided her to lay back and then slid her thong down her legs.

Coming to hover over her, seeing one of her breasts peeking out of the open shirt, I couldn’t help my strained voice. “I want to see you in this shirt tonight, Fallon. In only this shirt. All night and every time I make you come.”

Her eyebrows pinched together, but before she had a chance to say anything, I slipped a finger into her scorching heat, loving the little moan that came out of her and the way her head fell back.

Everywhere my finger touched was like a shot to my groin. She coated my middle finger so tight that it felt like it was in glove. I pushed in and out, completely turned on by how she pushed into my hand, grinding for more. Her moans turned to mewls, and I added another finger, barely feeling the strain in my other arm as I supported myself.

Her closed eyes and lips were tensed, and the sharp breaths coming out of her were the only sound in the room.

In my fingers went and out they came, wet and needy as I continued my rhythm and started circling her wet clit with my thumb. Her hips rolled faster and faster, sliding into my hand for more.

“Are you coming, Fallon?”

“Yeah,” she whimpered, breathing hard. “More, faster.” She sucked in a breath, crying out.

Sliding in faster and harder, I watched as she slammed up and down, falling into a rhythm with my hand. Every thrust and exhale was like a plea.

More.

Faster.

More.

Harder.

“Damn, baby. Look at you.” I swallowed, knowing she was almost there. Knowing she couldn’t go any faster.

Diving as deep as I could go, I sunk my fingers into her and held them there, massaging her insides in circles.

“Oh, God!” she cried, arching off the bed in waves as she came all over my hand. Throwing her head back two times, she drew in
quick, ragged breaths as I held my fingers inside of her and rubbed my thumb over her clit again and again.

Everything about her was gorgeous. Hovering right over her, I whispered, “Fallon.”

She blinked her eyes open, the aftershocks of the orgasm still straining her face and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“You were my first everything. And my only love.”

I wanted her to know that. Even through all the years, the separation, the pain, I wanted her to know that she was the only one I’d loved.

Sitting up, she held my face in her hands. “No one can stop us now.” But it sounded more like a battle cry than a fact. It was like she was saying “Yeah, we’re married, and you can’t take that.” But also “Go ahead and try.”

I caught her lips and slipped my tongue into her mouth, kissing her fiercely with every muscle in my body tight.

Pulling away, I stood up and stripped out of the rest of my clothes. Her eyes shot down to my erection, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from the shirt draped over her braless chest.

Coming down on her, I flattened her on the bed and didn’t stop kissing her as I worked my cock into her entrance. Dipping inside—just barely—I slipped back out, bringing her wetness with me and swirled my top around her clit. The vibration of her groan hit my lips, and I entered her again—only halfway—and pulled out, rubbing the tip of my dick around her hard nub again.

“Madoc?” she whimpered, sounding pained. “I’m not a piano. Stop playing me.”

I grinned and entered her again, taking each centimeter of her slowly. “Am I too heavy?” I asked, putting all of my weight on her.

When I had sex, I usually didn’t favor missionary. Other
positions felt better and allowed you a better view of the woman’s body, but this time was different. I wanted to feel her everywhere.

She shook her head under my kiss. “No, I love it.” Her hands scaled down my back and pulled my hips deeper into her. “Right there,” she begged. “Just like that.”

Jesus.

I put my forehead to hers and inhaled the breaths she was letting loose. Her chest—the parts that peeked out of the shirt—were moist with sweat, and the friction of her hot skin was sending me reeling. My dick was slick with her, sliding in and out faster with her urgent hands pulling me in harder.

Fuck, she was so damn needy, and it was turning me on. I wasn’t going to last long. Grabbing her thighs, I rolled us over so that she was on top. Her shirt had fallen off one shoulder, and one breast lay bare. As much as I wanted to touch her, I just watched her move. Holding onto her hips only, I kept my eyes glued to her grinding on me, the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, and her exposed skin glistening with sweat.

“Oh, God!” she cried out, riding me faster.

I groaned, shutting my eyes. “Come on, baby.”

The tingles spreading throughout my body weren’t going to hold off. I was too damn turned on, and she was too damn hot.

“Madoc.” Her pained whisper shot right to my heart, and I arched up off the bed, pushing up into her as hard as I could.

“Ahhh.” And she came apart, jerking and moaning, and I let go as well, releasing everything inside her and thrusting up again and again.

Christ.
My eyebrows remained pinched and my eyes shut. My body was anything but relaxed right now.

I’d never come inside of a woman without a condom before.

Except Fallon. Years ago.

No wonder the consequences could be bad. There was always a price on something that felt that good.

Fallon collapsed on my chest, and for a while, we just stayed silent and tried to calm down.

But then she whispered into my neck. “Fallon Caruthers, then.”

And I flipped her on her back, ready for round two.

•   •   •

We stayed tangled together in the hotel room for the next twenty-four hours, finally pulling ourselves out of each other’s asses—no pun intended—to have a conversation.

“Well, I do have a little money. My father pays my tuition up front and puts extra funds in my account for spending money. It’s not much but enough to set up an apartment.”

I kept my lids shut but gave her my attention. “What about your tuition for next year? Won’t you need the money for that?”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds but then answered. “We’ll figure it out.”

I had to chew the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, but it didn’t work. The rumble escaped my chest, and I let out a soft laugh.

“What?”

I sighed, still not looking at her. “Fallon, baby, we’re fine. We will have no money problems if our parents cut us off,” I finally told her.

“What do you mean?” Her tone was more abrupt.

“I mean we’re fine.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

When she said nothing and didn’t press, I opened one eye and peered at her staring at me over her laptop. She looked like she was about to start boiling.