Twenty-five
MORGAN
Of the top ten worst experiences of my life, the next 15 minutes definitely rank at number one. Mom is dancing with Aunt Sarah, the two of them laughing and busting a move like they’re half their ages. They look happy. Joyful.
Yay, I get to ruin that.
Bronwen clutches my arm as we make our way toward them.
“Mom, can we talk to you for a minute?” I hang back, by the side of the dance floor. She can come to me and maybe it won’t become the scene I’m expecting. Dreading.
She turns to me, her dignified eyebrows raising up her forehead. She doesn’t move toward me and my sister. “What’s up?”
Clearly my attempt at a calm, neutral face is failing. I close my eyes, pull in a slow breath, then open them again.
Deities, please help me. Give me strength .
“Mom, Gary left. ”
She stares at me, expression blank. “What do you mean ‘he left’?”
“He overheard me and Morgan talking, and got upset. And he, uh, he stormed out and left the wedding.”
Mom’s eyes go wide and her mouth drops open. “He what? What did he overhear?”
Bronwen and I exchange a nervous glance, then we look back at our angry mother.
“I found your old Grimoire pages, Mom. I know how Dad really died.”
“You what ?” The last part is yelled. Her face is screwed up with rage. “How dare you!”
Sarah puts a hand on her arm. “Angela, we?—”
Mom shoves it off. “You had no right.”
“No, Mom!” Bronwen yells. “You’re the one who had no right.”
“So you two decided instead of talking to me, you would go ahead and tell him what, that I’m a murderer? Is that what you think I am?” She’s screaming now.
Around us, the room has gone silent. The DJ cut out the music. All the guests are gathered in the ballroom to watch as our family falls apart.
Thing is, I can’t bring myself to care. I’m sure it’ll hit me tomorrow, or in a few days. And I’ll be upset. But right now, this feels like what she deserves for hiding the truth and lying to everyone for nearly three decades.
“I don’t know, Mom. I do think you’re a liar. I think you owe us, and a lot of other people, massive apologies,” I say, my own anger simmering under the words.
“Is it really true, Mom?” Sirona’s voice next to me is barely a whisper.
Shit, Sirona. Bronwen. At least I’ve had a few days to process this. And Zach has been there for me. They’re taking this in in real time. And I can feel Nana’s hard glare on me. It sends a shiver through me, but I don’t dare look at her .
Mom looks frantically around. “Where is he?”
“He left, Mom. That’s what I told you. Of all the people here, you owe him the biggest apology. You can’t build a marriage on lies.” I may not know much about relationships, but I know that.
“Get me my phone!” she screams to no one in particular.
“Zach called him,” Bronwen says. “He turned it off.”
She glares at the three of us, her face purple with rage. “You three, I will deal with you later.” She turns and storms out of the room, toward the doors.
Aunt Sarah and Nana both shoot angry glances at us before hurrying after her.
Sirona’s arm comes around my back, and I put one arm around each sister, on either side of me. We move together into a sister hug, and for a moment I let myself lean on them. Absorb some of their strength and energy. Because tonight still isn’t over for me. As much as I want to go home and collapse into bed, I won’t sleep if I leave things unsettled with Zach for another day.
Besides, if things go the way I’m hoping, he can take me home and fuck me until I can’t think anymore. That sounds like perfection.
Once Mom and Nana leave, the guests start leaving. Quickly. The room empties out in under five minutes.
"We should probably go too," I say.
The timing is terrible, when I feel epically flayed inside, but I have to go back to find Zach. And, likely prompted by how quickly Mom and Gary's infant marriage went from blissful to clusterfuck, there's a sense of urgency in me.
My sisters and I hug each other again, then head out. Grant and Evan are waiting just outside the doors, Sabrina asleep on Evan's shoulder.
I hope Bronwen gives him a chance, now that she can fall in love. He's more reserved than her usual type, but that'll be good for her. And he adores Sabrina almost as much as he does Bronwen.
Standing alone in front of the deserted banquet hall, I get my phone and text Zach.
Me: Where are you?
Zach: Gazebo. I'll meet you halfway .
I start down the gravel path and in a few minutes, he comes into view. Fuck, he's sexy, even all dark and shadowy like he is. I'm torn between jumping on him and begging him to fuck me, and running to him and asking him to hold me. A hug is what I desperately need, but that feels more vulnerable than I'm prepared for.
He opens his arms as I approach. "You need a hug?"
My chest nearly collapses on itself. And I nearly collapse onto his chest. His strong, solid arms come around me and for the first time in days, I feel safe. Steady.
There are tears in me, and I know I'll cry them at some point. But they aren't ready to release yet.
Once I'm good and hugged, I lean back enough to look up at him. "We have some things to talk about still."
He sighs, the rise and fall of his chest moving against mine. "We do. You sure you're OK talking now? You don't want to wait until things are more... settled?"
"Who the hell knows when that will be. So I'd rather talk now."
"OK." He drops his arms and steps back.
Panic surges up my chest while alarms sound in my head.
Then he drops down on one knee and the panic grows, the alarms drowning out all rational thought. I know what one knee means and there's no way.
Then his second knee goes down, and he's kneeling on the gravel path.
He reaches out and takes my trembling hand. The panic ebbs a little. This isn't a proposal. Thank deities .
"I know words aren't enough, but I am more sorry than I can even express for how I reacted to you telling me about talking to my mom. I was a jackass and I hurt you, and I hate myself for hurting you. So I'm here, begging your forgiveness and promising that I have one hundred percent faith in you and your magic. And your honesty." He drops his chin, staring at the ground for a moment before looking back up at me.
"I'm not sure I deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyway. Because here's the thing, Morgan. I have already fallen completely in love with you. I want to be with you, not just for sex. I want to spend time with you, hang out with you, take you on dates, hold your hand on walks. Everything. I'm all in."
Panic again.
My mind is a whirl of thoughts and reactions and for unknown reasons, I settle on, "You're groveling. In the gravel. Is this a gravel grovel?"
Really, Morgan?
Chuckling, he gets to his feet and dusts off his knees. "I guess it is, yeah."
His hands frame my face and tilt me to look up at him. "I love you, Morgan. So ridiculously much. And I know you probably aren't there?—"
"I love you too," I blurt out before he can finish saying I'm not there yet. Because I am. I grip the sides of his shirt. "So much."
His kiss is swift and possessive, yet sweet at the same time. We stay like that for anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours. I have no idea. Time loses all meaning as our lips and tongues, and eventually hands, explore each other. I know it hasn't been long since the last time we kissed, but it feels like forever.
When we finally come up for air, he's gripping my ass, rocking me against his solid erection. I reach between us and cover it with my hand, pulling a groan from his throat .
"What's going to happen tonight is, you're going to take me to your car, and we're going to have really hot make-up sex in the backseat." I press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
He grunts and presses harder into my hand.
"Because this"—I squeeze him—"is a driving hazard. And after that, you're going to drive me home, strip me naked, and spend the next several hours worshiping me." I'm turning myself on with my words, my nipples painfully hard, pussy wet and throbbing.
He startles me by picking me up, holding me under my ass. My legs go around his waist, arms around his neck, my long skirt riding up to my thighs. "Sounds like an excellent plan."
“And tomorrow, we’ll figure out how to fix everything else. Right?”
Nodding, he takes long strides to the lone car in the middle of the parking lot. Of course he parked directly under one of the lights, but it's not like anyone is going to randomly drive through the banquet hall parking lot in the middle of the night.
He sets me down next to the car so he can dig out his keys and unlock it. Like horny teenagers, we scramble in the back. We fumble with his belt and fly, eventually opening his pants and shoving them down to his knees.
His cock is thick and ready for me to ride it, already dripping at the tip. I can't stop myself from leaning down and licking over his head. Just one swipe and it has him hissing through his teeth.
"Morgan," he moans.
I give him another quick lick, then sit up.
His hand is under my dress, sliding up my thigh until he finds my underwear. I wriggle and he tugs and eventually they come all the way down and off.
I straddle his waist, my dress pulled up to my waist. His cock is sandwiched between our bellies and I love the heat of it against my cool skin.
"I want you," he murmurs, kissing me.
I picture the lone condom in my handbag that I brought just in case—good job, Past Morgan—imagine it on his cock, and snap my fingers.
"Damn, I love magic." He trails his lips down the side of my neck, then pushes my neckline off my shoulder.
To help him, I lift my breasts out of the top, offering them up to him. "Looking for these?"
"Always." He meets my gaze with a wicked grin, then lowers his face to take one nipple in his mouth.
I yelp as pleasure rockets through me. I'm rocking against his cock, rubbing my clit along his hard length.
"Put me inside you," he says with a mouthful of breast that's driving me wild.
I obey his command, sinking down on him with a long groan.
"Good girl," he says when he's at the hilt, and the words make me squirm, seeking more friction for my clit.
I can't wait, my hips already rising and falling on him, dragging my clit against his lower belly. He rocks up into me, all the while murmuring dirty, sexy praise in my ear, against my breasts, or into my kiss.
The words, the friction, the knowledge that this incredible man loves me all swirl together in a mass of bliss I can't hold back. I come apart too soon, arching into him and sobbing his name.
"That's a good girl. Come for me, show me how much you want me."
I float on the ecstasy as long as I can, slowly coming back to myself after such intense pleasure. And I continue to ride him, my hips moving even faster now, knowing that's what gets him off.
"Fuck, Morgan. So good." He mumbles a few more unintelligible things, then arches into me and goes stiff with a long groan. He pulses inside me, making my pussy flutter again, wanting more.
Good thing he's taking me home to pleasure me all night. Tomorrow there's still a mess to deal with, but tonight, we can have this. We deserve this.
With a massive exhale, he goes slack against the seat. We're messy and sweaty and it's some of the hottest sex I've ever had.
"That was fucking amazing," I say.
He squeezes my hip through my dress. "You're fucking amazing."
I nestle my face into the crook of his neck. "You are too."
We're silent for a long time, except for our ragged breathing.
He breaks it by saying, "How about, instead of the plan you proposed before, I amend it so that after I spend all night worshiping you, we just stay in your house forever and never have to deal with the real world again."
"Sounds good to me."
"What a fucking mess."
"I should probably feel more responsible for opening this Pandora's Box, but I don't." Mom shouldn't have covered it up if she didn't want it to be found out like this. Or she at least could've avoided writing about it in her Grimoire.
"If your mom didn't want people to find out years later, she should’ve covered it up better. Burned the diary pages or something," Zach says, his voice taking on a dreamy post-sex quality I've grown familiar with.
"Exactly."
He presses a kiss to my temple and it sends a shiver skittering across my skin. "We'll figure it out. We've got a lot of people to help us. And we've got each other."
I lift my head so I can look down at him, his eyes shadowy pool. "We've got each other. "
Thank you for reading Morgan and Zach’s story. I hope you enjoyed it!