11. Atticus #2
Me: Gotta go. You’ll all meet her tomorrow.
I’m smiling as I pad back to Lemon, scooping her off the couch and into my arms the moment I’m close enough.
“Atticus.” She giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck as I walk us out of the living room and into our bedroom.
“We’re having dinner with my parents, Tori, Felix, and the twins tomorrow,” I tell her, laying her down on the bed and climbing on top of her.
“What?” She blinks.
“My ma got it into her head that we’d be staying with her and Dad for a while.”
“She didn’t know you bought this place?”
“We told her, but she probably forgot or just assumed we’d get the work on the place done after we got here. She made up bedrooms for Felix and me and for Jude and August too.”
“Wait, your brothers live locally?”
“They’re hockey players. They recently moved to the new expansion league team, the Montana Mountain Marauders. Right now, they’re living in a condo that the team arranged for new team members, but once the season finishes, they’re moving here.”
“Wait, your brothers play hockey, like in the NHL?”
I nod.
“And they’re moving to Rockhead Point too?”
“Yes, they usually like to stay a little closer to the rink, but we all agreed to move to be close to each other again, so they’re looking for a house in town too.”
“Oh, wow! That’s so cool. But I can’t go to dinner tomorrow night?” she says, staring up at me with imploring eyes.
“Why the fuck not?” I snarl.
“Because you’re having dinner with your family,” she says, like it’s obvious.
“I’m failing to see why you can’t come.”
“Because we literally just met. It’s insane for me to meet your parents so soon.”
“I don’t see anything insane about taking my woman to meet my parents. In fact, it makes perfect sense to me. It’s just a bonus that the twins are going to be there as well.”
“Oh no, no, no, no,” she says. “No, that’s insane.
Meeting the brother you live with and then having dinner with your sister who I already know is one thing.
It was fast, but unavoidable when you and Felix are roommates, and you were helping me get a job with Tori.
But it’s far, far, far too soon for me to meet the rest of your family. ”
“And how long should we be together before it’s okay to meet my family and brothers?” I question, intrigued.
“A year, maybe longer,” Lemon says, like it’s obvious.
She’s completely serious, and I can’t help it. I laugh.
“Why are you laughing?” she asks.
“Because if you think I’m keeping you a secret from my family for the next year, you’re insane. My collar is around your neck. I’m planning on putting a matching ring on your finger in the next month or so. My parents really will think it’s crazy if I don’t invite them to our wedding.”
“Wedding,” Lemon shrieks.
“Yeah, wedding, Princess. I want you in a huge dress, looking like a perfect fucking vision in white, and only I’ll know that you’re naked for me beneath it.”
“Wedding,” she shrieks again, like she didn’t hear a word I just said.
“Yes, Lemon. Wedding.”
“You want to marry me?”
“As soon as possible. I’d take you to city hall tomorrow, but you need enough time to design and make your dress. A month, or maybe six weeks, should do it. I don’t want to, but I can wait that long to see you in one of your dresses.”
“Wait,” she says, narrowing her eyes as she shakes her head. “You’re teasing me.”
“I don’t tease, Princess.”
“We’re not getting married.”
“Yes, Lemon, we are.”
“No, we’re not,” she says, shaking her head.
“Yes, we are, and the quicker you figure that out, the more time you’ll have to design and make your perfect dress.” I can see that she’s building her case to argue with me about this, but my mind wanders to the rings I already had designed to match the collar she’s wearing.
When I picked the design of the collar, the designer suggested I have a matching wedding set made, but I didn’t think it was necessary.
At the time, I assumed having my woman wear my collar would feel like a significant enough commitment that we wouldn’t bother with a wedding.
But now that Lemon is wearing my collar, I’ve realized that its significance is only apparent to people in the kink community.
To anyone else, it’s just a pretty necklace.
Hell, Lemon herself doesn’t fully understand its meaning, so there’s no way your average person would get it. But a wedding ring is universal. It’ll be right there on her finger, a constant and visual claim that no one can fail to understand the significance of.
“Atticus—” she says, but I cut her off, speaking over her before she has a chance to argue with me.
“Lemon, when I said you were mine, I didn’t mean for the night or the weekend.
I meant forever, and forever comes with a ring and a happy ever after.
I’m ready to get started on that, so unless you already have a husband somewhere that I need to get rid of, you have a maximum of six weeks to get your head around the idea that you’re mine, that we’re getting married, and to make that dress. ”
Her mouth opens and then snaps shut, like she can’t believe what I just said.
“Now, because I’ve clearly blown your mind, I’m going to take control and worship you for a while until I get up and make us some lunch.”
Hours later, her mind is still blown, but she’s so exhausted from the orgasms I’ve given her that her eyes are struggling to stay open. I’ve just fed her a late lunch of cubes of cheese, fruit, charcuterie meats, and hunks of bread dunked in oil.
“Sleep, baby. We have time before I need to start prepping dinner,” I tell her, smoothing the hair from her face.
“Okay,” she says, her eyes already closed.
For a while, I watch her sleep. As I slip from the bed, I pull up Gaelle’s contact in my cell and hit dial.
“Atticus.” The rough Boston accent of the barely five-foot Domme fills my ears.
“Gaelle, long time no speak. How are you and Holly?”
“We’re perfect. She’s pregnant, nearly seven months now.”
“A baby,” I gasp, surprised but happy for them. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It’s been a change for us, but we’ve never been happier.”
Gaelle is a strict Domme I met at a kink event years ago when I was trying to understand my dominant side, and Holly is her bratty sub who loves nothing more than driving Gaelle absolutely insane.
They’re the perfect example of a lifestyle couple who switch between a power exchange dynamic and being a regular married couple with jobs and apparently now a baby on the way.
“Not that it’s not nice to hear from you, but did you call just to catch up, or with a purpose?” she asks, as direct and to the point as always.
“Do you remember that ring you designed to match the collar you made for me?”
“Of course I do. It’s a travesty that you never let me make it for you.”
“I want you to make it,” I tell her simply.
“You found someone? In New York? Did you start going to a club again?”
“Felix and I just moved back home to Montana. Our sister set down some roots, and she missed us, so we’re all here in a small town about an hour from where we grew up.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. I don’t even know of any clubs in Montana, but then I’ve never been, so that’s not a surprise,” she says, then laughs, her addictive gravelly chuckle vibrating through my cell’s speaker.
“We didn’t meet at a club. She’s not in the lifestyle. She literally bumped into me in the grocery store, and I knew she was mine the moment I saw her.”
“So if you’re not using the collar, why do you want the matching ring?” Gaelle asks slowly.
“She’s wearing the collar.”
“Wait, so she’s not in the lifestyle, but you’ve collared her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you explain what it means?”
I fall silent, and because Gaelle notices everything, she calls me on it. “Wait, you collared a girl without telling her the significance of it? Is she even a sub?”
“You make it sound like I’m taking advantage of her,” I growl angrily.
“Are you?”
“Of course I’m not. I told her what I like.
I told her what I need, and then I asked her to kneel, and she did it like she was a trained sub.
You know what the single club subs can be like.
They say yes to everything, even when they don’t mean it, and then once you’re settled, they suddenly admit that what you’re offering isn’t anything close to what they actually want.
Lemon is naturally submissive without even realizing it. ”
“Okay, but—” Gaelle starts.
“I’m not you. I’m not into punishments and rules.
I’ve never cared for protocol. I’m a pleasure Dom.
All I need to be happy is for my princess to kneel for me, then let me take charge in the bedroom, and she follows my lead like she was created just for me.
I’ve never been so sure that a woman is mine as I was the moment I laid eyes on her. She’s mine, and I want to marry her.”
“Holy fuck,” Gaelle says reverently.
“Tell me about it.” I chuckle.
“You still need to explain to her what the collar means.”
“I will. Now about that ring.”
There’s a pause for a moment, then she blurts, “Ialreadymadeit.”
“What?”
Clearing her naturally gruff, raspy voice, she says, “I already made it.”
“What do you mean, you already made it?”
“When I made the collar, I made the ring too, and a matching engagement ring.” We’re both silent for a minute before she growls, “I was inspired. So sue me.”
“So you made the ring we agreed I wouldn’t need?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“And you made a matching engagement ring too?”
“Yes.”
“And where have they been for the last few years?”
“On display in my store,” she says a little sheepishly.
“For sale?” I gasp.
“No, of course not. But I could have sold them a thousand times over. I get at least one phone call a week asking to buy them.”
“Wait,” I say, not having expected this conversation to go this way.
My cell buzzes against my ear.
“I sent you a picture. I made a few…adjustments to make it more of a wedding set.”