Chapter 37
Avery Hunter’s Reporter Notebook: Every story needs to end with a bang.
Pleasure Point’s Town Hall went from game night to outdoor wedding reception in a few minutes. Casseroles and salads weighed down a folding table near the gazebo, and I didn’t question who had time to make those. Maybe they had them in the fridge in the event of a wedding emergency?
Thorn brought over a large television from the PPN studio, and Keegan shared his screen, replaying Warren’s harrowing trip through the ropes course. Even though I knew my husband was okay, my heart still stopped every time he lost that shoe.
Husband.
For real, this time.
And there was no way I was letting him go.
I sat on his face. He was mine.
I searched the crowd outside Town Hall for the dark-haired, sexy man but didn’t see him anywhere. I was headed toward The Bolt when Megan and Jack stopped me.
“Hey, have y’all seen Warren?” I asked them.
Megan shook her head.
Jack shrugged. “Weren’t looking for him, but he probably went to take a shower. He did go through a lot in the woods.”
I had to tell my heart to calm down. He was okay. I had eyes on him recently.
“We wanted to thank you,” Megan said.
“For what?”
“You and War showed us we could be whatever we wanted,” Jack admitted. He scuffed the dirt with his shoe. “I was trying to play a role in the marriage and not be in the marriage.”
I placed my hand on his arm. “Isn’t that the point of boot camp? To learn these things and do better?”
He nodded and reached for Megan’s hand. They laced their fingers together, and she sighed. “I was operating on this whole ‘you can do it all’ mindset without thinking about how that would affect Jack. We had a long talk on the car ride over here, and we’re going to try something new.”
I nodded. “That seems like a good idea. What will it be?”
Jack shrugged and smiled. “Anything we want. This is our relationship. We get to call the shots.”
They hugged me before returning to the rest of the Camp Quirkus team. They were surrounded by curious Pointers asking about the various exercises.
Gerald sidled up to me with a cup of punch. “Wonderful ceremony, Avery.”
I grinned at him. “I had nothing to do with that. It was all them.” I pointed to my nosy neighbors who milled about on the lawn. “That’s the thing about living in a small town. No one lets you be down for long.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“It is,” I sighed. “Listen, Warren, and I need to fix something with you. We presented ourselves under false pretenses when we arrived at camp on Monday night. We didn’t have a reservation.”
Gerald laughed. “Oh, I already knew about that.”
Shock raced through my veins. “Did Warren tell you?”
The camp director shook his head. “Nope. The Warrens called right before you showed up. They decided they didn’t need the camp because they got an annulment.”
“What?” I clasped my hand to my chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugged. “Payment was already made in full, no refunds. And it seemed you two needed it more than the other couple.”
I thought back to Warren’s drenched look from walking through the thunderstorm. Even then, it did funny things to my insides. “We did.”
“And it worked?” Gerald raised a bushy eyebrow at me.
“Five stars. Best marriage boot camp I’ve ever been to.” I reached to shake his hand as my phone buzzed in my pocket.
“What are you still doing at the reception?” Gerald teased. “I’m sure a brand-new husband is looking for his bride.”
“I believe you’re right. Thank you for everything,” I said.
I watched him saunter across the lawn to where Zelda spoke to Ziggy, June, and Don. They quickly pulled him into the conversation, and for a brief moment, I wanted to be a fly on that wall.
My phone buzzed again:
ByTheBook
Food for thought. Did you know the shower in my home is big enough for two?
MsWrite
My thoughts have been hungry for this type of food.
ByTheBook
Did you also know I took the liberty of having your shower products moved to my house?
I sucked in a breath as I read his message. He didn’t.
ByTheBook
I know that is Viking behavior, but if you meet me at my house in 10 minutes, I shall adequately plunder your village.
Okay. That got weird.
MsWrite
I’ll be there in three.
Pleasure Point was quiet along Warren’s street. It was tucked far enough away from the main drag that you could almost hear waves from the Gulf of Mexico breaking against the shore. It took me four minutes to walk to his house from Town Hall. I needed that time to get myself under control.
With the ceremony over and the paperwork signed, after Warren went over the fine print and double-checked we initialed all the critical parts. We were officially married.
Now, it was up to us.
I knocked on the front door, but it swung open. “Hello? Re-Husband? Are you in here?”
“In the back. Down the hall.” His voice sounded muffled.
The main area had a well-appointed kitchen with gleaming appliances on the counter.
An appliance “garage” caught my attention in the corner.
That seemed right. Warren would have a place for everything but out of sight.
On the opposite side of the house was a comfortable living area with overstuffed couches that faced each other.
I didn’t see a television, but knowing him, he likely had that hidden away, too.
He would emphasize conversation over streaming.
I loved that about him.
I loved him. Period.
I walked toward the hallway and spied a large dining area in its own room, with pocket doors to close it off during dinner parties.
A beautiful round wooden table stood proudly in the center.
Seven chairs surrounded the table. None were the same, but six were refinished in the same stain.
The seventh chair seemed out of place. It was a rolling office chair that looked suspiciously like the one from the Pleasure Point Network.
I got a closer look. It was my office chair.
What the hell?
I’d figure out that mystery later.
In the meantime, I followed the sound of rustling to a large bedroom at the end of the hallway. Inside, I found my newly-minted-for-real husband carefully lighting candles throughout the room.
His damp hair curled around his ears, and his green eyes were laser-focused on his current task. The man wore only black boxer briefs, which cupped everything in a beautiful presentation that made my mouth water.
“Warren?” I said softly so as not to startle him with an open flame.
He glanced up from his task and clicked off the lighter. “Avery.”
I stepped into the room and pulled off my shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. When I dressed for game night, I was still reeling from Warren’s rejection - or what I thought was his rejection. I wanted to feel pretty, so I pulled out my sexy underwear.
Warren grabbed my shirt before I flung it across the room. “Careful, wife. I do not want to burn down our house.”
Our house.
He folded my shirt and placed it on a nearby chair. When he caught the expression on my face, he stopped. “Are you okay with all of this? We do not have to do anything. We have the rest of our lives together.”
I removed the distance between us and looked up at him. “We should sign a prenup.”
Warren gasped and eased back from me as if I told him I wanted to buy a house on a handshake deal. “Why?”
“For your peace of mind,” I said.
“What do you want?”
“I want you. That’s it. And if signing a prenup eases your worries about this lasting, then so be it,” I admitted. “I never considered it before you said something at camp.”
“I was an idiot!” Warren cried.
“Really? Seems like you were being a smart lawyer,” I countered.
He began pacing the bedroom, and I could see he wasn’t ready to discuss this topic. I sighed and headed toward the chair with my shirt. Before I could put it back on, Warren wrapped his arms around me from behind.
“Stop,” he pleaded. “I do not know where you think you are going, but this is your home now. Please stay.”
“Okay.”
“I do not want a pre-nuptial agreement with you,” Warren whispered. “But, what if we wrote out a marriage agreement?”
I turned in his arms and threw my hands around his neck. “We make it up what we want it to be?”
He nodded solemnly.
“Do we have to do this right now?”
He shook his head no.
I went up on tiptoes and brushed my lips over his. “Good. Because I am not leaving this bedroom until we’ve both had at least two orgasms.”
He reached around me to unhook my lacy bra and free my breasts. They bounced, and he fell to his knees to zoom in on them. I threw my head back as his tongue circled first, one nipple, then the other. I was on fire.
I threaded my fingers through his hair and forced him to look at me. “Warren. I need you. All of you. Right now.”
There it was. The Viking Warren grin that sent electricity straight to my clit. He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, slowly slid them down my legs, and gasped when he caught sight of what I was packing underneath.
“Panties?” He reverently traced a finger inside the band of the lacy contraption that barely covered my lady business.
“Yes. You may call these panties,” I giggled. “But only if you tear them off with your teeth.”
His eyes lit up as he quickly got my jeans off. Then, the man leaned forward, clasped my underwear in his teeth, and dragged those down my legs. I nearly came on the spot.
“Holy shit, Warren,” I breathed.
His face was practically buried in the floor while he held the waistband. I stepped out of them, standing bare before the man who won my heart, body, and soul. Warren flashed a grin as he clutched the panties to his chest and said, “Mine.”
I raised an eyebrow. “The underwear or me?”
He placed the panties on his dresser, and shucked off his boxer briefs, then turned toward me, his dick pointing the way. “Both. You are both mine.”
Warren stalked toward me with a feral look that made me want to jump and run away from him, but he slowly shook his head, letting me know that if I ran, he would catch me. Goosebumps broke out on my skin.
“Cold, wife?”
“Nervous,” I admitted and rubbed my arms.
His dick tapped me on the belly as he rubbed his hands up my arms and behind my neck. “Nothing to be nervous about.” Warren leaned to kiss the skin below my ear. “I am simply about to ravage you six ways to Sunday.”
I shivered again. “How? How will you do it?”
Oh, the devilish grin on his face. “First, I will lick you from head to toe. Then, when you are close to the edge of orgasm, I shall slide inside you and slowly drive you up to the edge of release again.” He ghosted kisses across my chest and down to my belly.
“Tease,” I whispered.
He cupped my sex and slowly circled my clit with his finger. “You will be begging me to come.”
“I don’t beg.” I shook my head.
He pulled away to study me.
I shrugged. “Fine. I’ll beg. Please, Warren. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”
Warren shook his head.
“No? Is this about the edging thing? Because while your dirty talk is beyond sexy, I might murder you if you try it right now,” I said.
He shook his head again.
Doubt crept into the back of my mind. “No, as in, you don’t want to fuck me?”
He nodded. Before I panicked, he said, “I do not want to fuck you. I want to make love to you. I want you to know you are loved. Every day. Every night. For the rest of our lives.”
“I love you,” I whispered.
Warren scooped me up and carried me to the neatly made bed.
He didn’t pull back the covers, simply laid me across the comforter, then stood back to admire me.
All the lights were on in the room, and he fired up the candles when I got there.
I lay on his bed with nowhere to hide. No pillow to cover my belly.
No blanket to artfully drape across my less-than-perky breasts.
But Warren noticed none of my flaws. He stared at me as if my being in his bed made him the luckiest man on the planet.
And I decided that he was.
Just like I was the luckiest woman to have found him.
He then showed me how much he loved me by sucking, licking, and teasing my core with his mouth and fingers until I screamed the elegant gray paint off the walls.
When I couldn’t take another orgasm from his mouth, he slid inside me with whispers of how beautiful I was, how much he loved me, and there was nothing he wanted more than me in his life.
The lovemaking was sweet and slow, and when neither of us could take the edging anymore, I slapped him on his tight ass and told him to “Giddyap.” It wasn’t my finest moment, but he got the gist.
He fucked me across the finish line of a third orgasm and roared as he released seconds later inside of me. We lay connected like that until he softened inside me, and we lost track of time.
In the end, I lowballed our original verbal agreement.
We left the room two days later after losing track of the orgasms.
As God intended.