11. 2
“Oh fuck, Jason! Oh my God!”
Her release squeezed and released my fingers, and she laid there for a few seconds panting. Then her eyes fluttered open and focused on me. With a determined smile, she got up, grasped my shoulders, and pushed me down to the bed. She kissed my mouth, then I grasped and caressed her body wherever I could reach as she left a trail of kisses down my chest and stomach, licking a swirling line down the sensitive skin of my groin.
“Rose,” I breathed.
Holding my gaze, she ran her tongue up the underside of my cock. Shivers erupted through every cell of my body. I moaned out her name again, my stomach muscles shuddering as I fought barreling over the edge.
She mmmed as if she enjoyed my taste. Then her mouth slipped like velvet down my length until I felt the back of her throat. I dug my hands into her loose curls, pulling them out of her way and gently tugging once they were wrapped around my fists.
Her moan vibrated around me, her beautiful face solemn with determination. Watching and feeling her at the same time was taking my breath away.
She fisted the base of me, sucking me almost whole and torturing me with her ravenous tongue. Grinding me so deep. I panted her name and barely held onto the edge, twisting my hands in her hair. I was afraid to move my hips and spend my load before I buried myself in her body.
Fuck, no more. I sat up abruptly, pulling her up. My cock popped out of her mouth, and she scrambled onto my lap. She stuck her tongue down my throat and swallowed my whole cock into her tight heaven with one downward thrust. I gently palmed the back of her neck to hold her in place as she ground against me, and my release gathered in my spine. I begged my body to hold on, but I erupted deep inside her, her release following mine.
Even then I couldn’t stop kissing her. Touching her. Running my fingertips along each eyebrow and weaving my fingers through hers. How did she become everything to me so fast?
Rose
Welp, I’d just confidently sewn this skirt inside out.
I turned off my sewing machine, rubbed my stinging eyes, and sank to the living room rug where I curled into a ball. I’d been at this for four days, and my progress wasn’t fast enough. Dread uncurled in my chest. I couldn’t do this. It was already September, and I wasn’t finished with Becca’s dresses. I hadn’t even started Mom’s. My back ached, my fingers were sore. I was going to let my mother down, and my dream was a nightmare.
My heart jangled in a familiar rhythm of panic. No. Not now. I curled up tighter when the tears started. Why did I think I could do this, especially after losing all that time in Florida? I should’ve brought my sewing machine, should’ve set up camp on the condo’s table and locked myself inside to work on Becca’s dresses. But then I would’ve missed all that golden time with Jason that I was paying for now.
I couldn’t stop shaking and crying, loud sobbing that echoed through the empty church. My arms felt cold. I was the worst human. I was such a burden. I couldn’t…I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do anything.
The front door opened, and I gasped my mouth shut, squinching my eyes closed. If Jason found me like this, he’d think I was ridiculous. He’d send me away. I was ridiculous. And so stupid to think—
“Honey, I’m home!” Jason called out. “They had the thread you wanted, and I couldn’t read my handwriting on the zipper length. So, I got a 20-inch and a 22-inch. If that’s wrong, I’ll go back…Rose? Baby, where are you?”
My sob came out like a hiccup. I couldn’t hide now. “I’m here,” I wailed miserably.
His footsteps came closer, and then he was on the floor beside me. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He kissed my head and rubbed my back.
“I can’t do this, Jason. I thought it was what I wanted, but—” I hiccuped a sob and gasped for air through my mouth since my nose was completely blocked. “I just sewed a dress inside-out. Do you know how embarrassing that is? I’m so bad at this. Now I have to rip all those stitches out and do it again, and I can’t—” I took in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know why I thought I could do this. The dresses are a mess, and I’m gonna let everybody down. I can’t have a business like this. What was I thinking? I’m…I can’t…” I started sobbing again.
“Aw, baby,” he murmured. “Come on. Let’s get up.” He helped me to my feet then carried me bodyguard-style to his deep, cushy sofa. He draped a throw on me and handed me the tissues from the coffee table. “I’ll be right back.”
He dropped a kiss on my head then hurried off, leaving me to sob and blow my nose. I was a useless burden. Living in his beautiful house and not even paying half the bills. He built me a table and even went and bought stuff for me. I had nothing to offer him, and he was going to realize it. I blew my nose harder—so much snot. He must think I’m so disgusting.
He settled beside me and handed me my purse. “Do you want your medicine? Would that help?”
I nodded, crying harder. Here he was being so good to me, and I didn’t deserve it. He pulled out my wallet and peered inside my purse, bringing forth the pill bottle. “Is this it?”
“Yeah.”
He handed me a little white pill and a water bottle, and I drank my medicine down.
“Here…” He snuggled up against me, laying us down face-to-face along the sofa.
“I’m sorry I’m such a burden,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I can’t stop crying. I’m a mess.”
“Baby, you’re not remotely a mess. You’re not a burden, and you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He pulled me tight into his arms, and I nestled closer to his chest. His strong heartbeat against my ear centered me.
“I’m just so tired.”
“Of course you’re tired. You’ve been up late and early trying to make everything perfect. Yeah, maybe you took on a lot, but I don’t doubt for a minute that you can do it. But you need to rest, now.” He kissed my head and rubbed my back, then pushed my hair back from my face. “You’re so talented, and so smart, and you care so much. I’m sorry it’s so hard for you now, but you are amazing at what you do, and you couldn’t let everybody down if you tried. You’re gonna get everything done.”
“Please don’t leave me. I need you.” I whimpered, his caresses calming me down. If I could just escape my brain for a while. I needed to escape for a while.
He squeezed me tighter and settled in closer. “I won’t leave you. I got you. Let’s rest, right here. You and me.” He rubbed my back and kissed my head. “I’ve got you. Sometimes you just need a good cry and a good nap, and the Xanax ought to help you relax. I’ve taken it before, too. Does it make you sleepy, like it used to make me?”
I nodded against his chest and breathed through the anxiety. It felt like he was holding me together. I pulled him tighter. He was right. This was an anxiety attack. No matter how many I’ve had, it was still hard to recognize them when they came.
Long minutes went by. After a while, my heart stopped banging out of my chest. My viselike grip on him relaxed. My meds and his warm, steady presence topped out the fight-or-flight chemicals surging in my body, and now they were subsiding. Birds chirped, Jason’s wind chimes sang gently from the courtyard. Somewhere in the distance, somebody’s lawn equipment whirred. The dreamy afternoon sun through the stained-glass windows soothed me, but not as much as Jason holding me close and rubbing my back. I snuggled against him. Every so often he murmured, “I got you,” and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his breathing even and soft.
The spicy scent of tacos woke me. I was still on the sofa under a blanket, but Jason was gone. The church lights were low, dreamlike, and the world outside the stained-glass windows was dark. I yawned, stretched, and went to find the tacos.
The dining table was set for two with a bowl of chips and salsa sitting beside a covered dish of steaming taco meat and a whole bowl of shredded cheese. “Oh, hell yeah.” I scooped a heaping spoon of shredded cheese onto my plate. Shoveling it into my mouth, I sat down then dipped a chip in the salsa.
The door opened, and Jason came in with a platter of hard taco shells. “You’re up! I was just warming these.” He set them on a trivet on the table and leaned in to place a kiss on my cheek.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and wouldn’t let go. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
“You’re very welcome.” He squeezed me back and dropped into the seat beside me at the head of the table. “How’re you feeling?”
“So much better.” I scooped meat into a shell, sprinkled a generous amount of shredded cheese on top, and crunched off the edge of it. “M mmm . Rrr a eely gook cook,” I said around my food.
“Thank you. I’m glad the groceries are starting to open back up.” He slid his hand onto my leg and ate with his other, as if needing to touch me.
I took a long sip of my Diet Coke, eyeing him up. He was minding his own business. Eating his tacos. As if he hadn’t talked me down from a cliff before making me a home cooked meal. As if he wasn’t the first guy to be so caring to me. Definitely the first one to be so fucking beautiful. I wanted to draw him. That jawline, those long lashes.
He caught me watching him and smiled. “What?”
“You’re really good at this boyfriend thing.”
His eyebrows raised, and his face lit up. “Boyfriend?”
My heart thudded. The word was bigger with Jason, but I didn’t want to take it back, even with Big Brother StudFinders watching. “Yeah.” I bit my lip. “Unless you’re not there.”
“Oh, I’ve been there.” He slipped his hand into mine and halfway stood to kiss my cheek with that beautiful smile. “I’m just excited to hear you say it.”
What did I say now? I stuffed my mouth with another huge bite of taco to take speech off the table. I was…I was living with my boyfriend . This was new territory, a Level Two I hadn’t explored yet. A level I’d never even considered. Was I still disoriented from my nap, or did this just kind of sneak up on me?
Maybe I’d change the subject. “What have you been up to while I was napping?”
“I wanted to stay close by, so I caught up on all my emails and posts I’ve been avoiding since I got home. I had three requests for custom furniture quotes waiting for me, which I was pretty excited about. And Faduma sent the StudFinders contract. I let her know I got it, but that I was dealing with hurricane damage and I’d have to get back to her. I still don’t know what I’m going to tell her.”
“Does it read like you expected?”
“Yeah. They don’t want it to look like I’m dating anyone for the duration.”
“I still think you should take it.” We’d been over and over it for the past several days. But I knew he’d regret not taking it, even if I didn’t like the idea of hiding our relationship.
“Maybe,” he said. It was how that conversation had been ending, every time.
We kept eating, chatting about my progress on the dresses and his ever-expanding to-do list of custom furniture, social media responsibilities, and the merch orders he was behind on. I offered to help him pack them up and bring them to the post office. Getting out of the house sometimes might do me some good.
My phone buzzed on the other side of the table where I’d plugged it in earlier.
“It’s been doing that a lot,” he said. “You might want to check it.”
When I’d downed my last taco, I unplugged my phone and pulled it to me. Missed calls and texts from Heather, Abby, and a number I didn’t recognize. I tapped into Heather’s text first.
Instant heartburn. “Oh my God.” I clapped my hand to my mouth.
“What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t take in enough air. Tears sprang to my eyes, and before the worry on Jason’s face could reach critical mass, I handed him my phone. Stared at him with my hands over my mouth as he read it, his eyes and mouth going wide.
“Girl,” he said.
“I know!”
“GIRL,” he said again.
Hands over my face, I started crying. His arms came around me. “Congratulations! Baby, this is huge! You can’t get much higher-profile than PJ Lane and Sam Cooper! Hey…” He knelt beside me and dabbed at my face with a clean napkin. “You’re officially a designer to the stars. How does it feel?”
“Terrifying!” I cried. “How am I going to do this? I’m already so behind!”
“I think you need more information. They can’t be getting married next month. Has he even called you yet?”
I took a shuddering breath and took my phone from him. The unknown number. “A text and a call.” I played his voicemail on speaker.
Sam: Hey Rose, this is Sam Cooper. Heather Aucoin sent me your beautiful dress designs, and I sent them to my fiancé, PJ Lane? She went nuts over them. We set a tentative date for July. I hope that’s enough lead time. Heather said you’re already really busy, so if I can help by hiring a team to help with PJ’s dresses, I’m happy to do that. So, give me a call back when you can, and maybe we can set up a time to meet at your studio? Looks like I’ll be relocating to New Orleans for a while with work, so I hope we can work it out. Thanks!
“Jason, this can’t be real life.” Something like impending doom settled on my shoulders. “How am I going to do this? I have three dresses to finish for Becca. I haven’t even started Mom’s.” I gestured wildly at my phone. “He thinks I have a studio. Like some kind of professional.”
“You are a professional.” He kissed my forehead and tucked my hair behind my ear. “It’s okay. We got this. Let’s focus on one thing at a time. You have two weddings to finish now, but Sam and PJ aren’t getting married until July. It’s only September. That’s like…ten months away. Tell him you’re booked through October—it’s not a lie. Then you don’t even have to think about PJ until after your Mom’s wedding.”
His smile steadied me, and I smiled for the first time with this news in my life.
He wrapped my hands in his. “Meantime, we need to get all those dresses we talked about photographed and beef up your social media presence before this news drops. Baby, you’re going to have more requests and offers than you know what to do with. Own this. You deserve this success.”
Happy tears welled in my eyes. My boyfriend was…amazing.
He squeezed my hands and leaned his head against mine with an excited little ahhhh! “Now I’m all hyped to take pictures of you in your beautiful dresses. Tomorrow I really have to make progress on some custom pieces I’m behind on, but I’ll scout some locations in the afternoon. It might be kinda hard to find places not affected too badly by the storm, but I’ll find them.”
I grabbed his beautiful face and kissed him, hard and long, sinking down to straddle him. He adjusted, stretching his legs out long and settling me on his lap. His hands and arms snaked around me, pressing me close at every point like I was lovingly ensnared by a hot octopus.
After a minute, he came up for air with a smile. “Damn, woman, what was that for? You’re making me want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you upstairs.”
“I can’t tell you how much your support means to me. I’ve never had a boyfriend who cared about my dreams enough to help me with them.”
His smile widened, dimples engaged. He kissed me softly again. “How can I help my girlfriend tonight with these dresses?”
I laughed. “You want to help me sew? Do you even know how to sew?”
“I’ll have you know I once sewed my own button back on a shirt by watching a YouTube video. You might say I’m a master seamstress. Seamster. Sewer?”
“Sewer looks weird written down, but it works orally.” I raised my eyebrows at him suggestively.
He chuckled. “I see you, trying to skip ahead to the good stuff. What’s the next thing you need to do on Becca’s dresses?”
I smoothed my hand down his T-shirt. Sure, I wanted his help. But being this close to him was turning me on. I tried to focus on my work. “I have to rip that skirt apart and put it back together the right way. Ummm…oh! How do you feel about learning to make ribbon roses? I need a shit ton of ribbon roses.”
“Is that a US shit ton or a metric shit ton?” He shrugged with a smile. “You know what? Either way I’m in.”
“Awesome. But there’s one problem.” I went back to kissing him, but with more tongue and hip action. I ground against him and found hard evidence that he was into it too. “You being all helpful, and sweet, and hot has me too turned on to do anything but you.”
He chuckled and gently slapped my ass. “C’mon then.” He coaxed me up, took my hand, and led me across the dimly lit church to the plush rug before the fireplace. I unzipped his shorts and pulled off his shirt and undies, and he made quick work of my clothes, too. Standing naked face to face with him, I reached between us and grasped his erection—already hard and needy.
But he took my hand away, slipping his fingers through mine and placing his other hand at my waist. “Dance with me.” He leaned in at the hips to press against me as he began to move under the muted colors of a streetlight through stained glass.
“But there’s no music,” I giggled.
“I’ll sing for you.” He took a few steps with me with an ummm , as if searching in his head for something to sing. “It had to be you…it had to be you,” he sang, dancing slowly with me. “La la la la laaa, and finally found…somebody whooooo…I don’t really know the words to this.” He dipped me as I laughed, my long hair hanging down. “La la la la…”
Skin to skin, Jason danced with me, his not at all bad voice echoing through the big room with la la la’s and snippets of words he remembered. His dark eyes twinkled and never moved from mine. It was deeply romantic, maybe the most romantic moment of my life. He pressed his forehead against mine, and I hummed along with him.
“It had to be youuuuu!” He ended the song with another dip.
I laughed and grasped his erection. “I’m ready for that big finish.”
He pulled me with him to the rug with hungry eyes and laid me down beneath him. Fluffy softness at my back and his smooth, hard body in my arms. I spread my legs wide to welcome him and kissed him with my whole heart.
One muscular arm planted on the floor beside my head, and the other pulled my thigh tight against his waist. I slipped my hand between us and grasped him, sliding his tip around my clit in circles as he moaned into our kisses. I positioned him at my entrance, and he didn’t wait. One deep thrust, and we were moving together. His deep, dark eyes fluttered, searching mine as he ground into me.
I’d never get tired of looking into his eyes. This was what he had meant. This connection. Sex had never been this deep for me. I’d never been touched so emotionally while being fucked so thoroughly. He laid down devastating thrusts while he kissed me so gently, ground so hard and deep while he gazed adoringly into my eyes and pressed his forehead to mine. Best. Sex. Ever.
I was lost in him. In his scent and his warmth. In the reverent way he touched me and his fervent kisses at my breasts. My hands explored his hard body with caresses, my mouth with kisses and soft bites at his lips and neck. Pulling against his ass to bring him deeper into me.
His slow, soft, breathy grunts at my ear drove me wild. “I love being inside you,” he breathed. “Say my name, Rose,” he pleaded. “Say my name.”
“Jason,” I whimpered against his ear. “Oh, Jason…I love how you fuck me.”
His eyes gazed deeply into mine. “I know how my girlfriend likes to come.” He swirled his tongue inside my mouth. “I wish I could slide my tongue around your clit while I fuck you.” And then his fingers slipped between us and did just that.
He overwhelmed me with desire, filled my cup to the brim and overflowed it, my orgasm radiating in strong, languid waves. He throbbed deep inside me with a moan in my mouth. And he didn’t pull out when it was done. I held him tight with all my limbs, running my hands across his broad shoulders. I’d never be tired of kissing him. He laid in my arms, his heart pounding against my breasts.
Jason
Flipping through my camera at all the photos I took of Rose today made me even more sure that my girlfriend was the most beautiful woman alive.
This one of her on the porch of a tattoo parlor was one of my favorites. In a pink bridesmaid gown, Rose was radiant sitting on the railing, her tattoo on display against the sign with a carousel horse on it. The series at City Park was amazing—on the carousel, in the Besthoff Sculpture Garden, on the steps of the museum.
I straightened my tie, ready to pose as her groom for a last set of photos inside the church. Adjusting the lighting one last time, I perfectly illuminated the velvet chaise lounge against the brick wall with the basic lighting I used for my furniture.
Only one bouquet of the few she made last night hadn’t wilted over the course of the day’s photo sessions. I pulled it from its bucket of water and dried its stems off so it wouldn’t drip on her dress.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she announced.
I turned at her words and the clicking of her heels on my wood floor . Holy shit .
A lace gown nearly the color of her skin hugged her every curve. From the deep V that exposed the center of her breasts to the outline of each leg as she walked toward me, she seemed naked but was fully clothed in sparkling, clinging laces. The stunning contrast of her dark hair, deep red lips, and dark blue eyes against the creaminess of her skin and gown and veil made my breath catch in my chest.
Whatever she saw on my face made her blush and smile. “Does it look alright?” Her gaze raked me down and up again. “Damn, you’re hot in that suit.”
I blinked and shook my head. “It looks…wow. You’re almost too beautiful to be real.”
Her blush deepened as she waved me off and looked down. “Oh, you sweet talker. Where do you want me?”
My heart thudded. Walking down the aisle toward me in front of our friends and family .
Oh wow. Was that what I wanted? I was like a character in a movie whose ears were ringing after a bomb went off.
“Um, here. On the chaise.”
I barely heard her comment on the set-up or her thanks when I handed her the bouquet. I chuckled along with her joke about making sure her nipples weren’t showing. But my eyes kept returning to the fake wedding ring set we bought her yesterday. It sparkled on her left hand in the low light, rubbing a spot in my chest I’d forgotten was raw. The month before I confirmed Kasey was cheating on me, I’d been shopping for a ring for her. Like a fucking dope.
Rose settled herself on the chaise and smiled at me before arranging her train.
That spot in my chest wasn’t as raw as it used to be. Kasey didn’t matter anymore, and it was time I stopped letting her take joy away from me and my life with Rose.
My life with Rose. Goosebumps—I had literal goosebumps thinking about it.
I took photos of Rose reclining on the chaise and standing in the late afternoon light coming through the stained glass.
In the golden hour, I brought her into the courtyard, took photos of her by the fountain, under the brick arches dripping with white crepe myrtle flowers. And as the sun sank, I brought her back into the church.
“Come over by the sofa. I have the cameras set on interval timers. They’ll take a photo every three seconds from these two angles, so as long as we stay between the area I have taped on the floor”—she looked down, marking the spots—“we’ll be in the picture.” I flipped through one of the wedding magazines we bought last night to one of the bride and groom poses we’d marked. “Here. Refresh your memory on the poses while I get my suit jacket on.”
After last minute checks and adjustments on the cameras, I started them both and stepped up beside her. I whirled her around, settling her train in an aesthetically pleasing pool at her side. “Let’s start with the back-to-back pose.”
I smiled slightly, my head turned toward the camera, my eyes downcast and back toward her. I hooked my hand into hers and adjusted the class ring I’d slipped on backwards to look like a wedding ring, and we went through a silent dance of poses, punctuated by the snapping of the camera’s shutter. Me standing behind her with her arm out and my hand on her hip. Me standing closer behind her as if I were about to kiss her cheek, which I then did, which made her breathe out a soft laugh. Her turning to me, adjusting my tie. Her hand on my shoulder, mine on her waist as she pressed her forehead to the bridge of my nose.
She was a vision in lace. Her dark eyes were fringed in black lashes, and her soft lips begged to be kissed. We moved closer, lips nearly brushing. She pushed my jacket off my shoulders slowly, letting the snapping cameras have their fill. She held my gaze as she loosened my tie, pulled it off me, and unbuttoned my shirt. Rose untucked the shirt and turned her back to me, pulling all her hair aside and baring her neck as I leaned in to kiss it. I splayed my hand across her belly and pulled her tight against me so she could feel what this was doing to me.
We’d planned all these shots, and I expected it to turn me on. But I wasn’t prepared for how it felt for Rose and me to playact our wedding night. She turned to face me, all seductive eyes, her face almost solemn, and pulled my shirt off the rest of the way.
“I want to kiss you so bad,” I murmured against her ear.
“But you can’t mess up my lipstick,” she said, smiling. She pulled me toward the chaise lounge. “Let’s finish up with the seated photos.”
I lounged on the chaise behind her, not even acting as I gazed adoringly at her as she stood nearer the camera. I arrayed her gown onto the sofa and leaned partly around her from behind as she sat like a queen. I got out of the way and adjusted the camera before setting her up for a solo photo kneeling against the side of the chaise to catch the creamy skin of her bare back in the gown. And finally, I adjusted the camera to point toward the floor where I had her sit on sumptuous fabrics as I laid with my head in her lap, gazing adoringly up at her. Which again, wasn’t hard to do.
I sat up and leaned in. “That’s all the poses. Can I kiss you now?”
“We deserve it after all our hard work.” She pulled my face closer with a hand cupped against my jaw, and kissed me. The cameras snapped.
“What if we turn off the cameras before this gets too hot and heavy, and we maybe go upstairs where I can take this dress off of you?”
“Mmm, I love that idea. But also, a camera sounds kinda hot.”
“Next time,” I chuckled.
She shrugged and slipped off her heels, and we went hand-in-hand up the stairs to the loft. It was surreal unzipping her wedding gown with a ring on my fourth finger. Surreal to watch her, nude except for the flash of her fake diamond wedding set sparkling in the dim light as she unbuttoned my pants.
This felt real, like it was our wedding night. It was too soon to feel this way about her, wasn’t it?
“Wise move not to tell me you weren’t wearing underwear under this gown,” I murmured against the soft, peaked tip of her breast. “Or we’d never have made it through the photoshoot.”
“Mmmm, have you been imagining all the different ways you could defile me?”
“Most definitely.”
“Show me all of them.”
“Only if you show me where you keep your toys,” I dared.