Chapter 17
We’d worked a lot today. It was such an odd case, really, in terms of how much passing and fighting I’d been doing with ghosts. Even the Highland case wasn’t like this, as the ghosts there hadn’t been bad or tried to fight me off. They’d just been desperate to escape.
Here, I had just as many friendly ghosts as I did baddies.
Couldn’t say I enjoyed the mix.
After working the theater all morning, we headed to the ranch and relaxed.
I took a very long soak, as I felt I had all the cooties after being in the theater’s dingy basement.
I was beyond tired after dinner. Aside from making sure Gwyn was all right for the night and had everything she needed, I didn’t do much of anything else.
I retreated to mine and Brandon’s room and flopped on the bed.
It was a good bed, fortunately, easy to sleep on.
And oh, look, it was a nice ceiling. Plain, boring, demanding nothing of me. I could lie here and blink at it, and it didn’t call me out for being spacey, it just withstood the scrutiny. Such a good ceiling.
The door opened and I didn’t even look. I knew who it was because of his heavy tread.
“Uh…you okay over there?”
I blinked up and Brandon’s face had suddenly taken the place of the ceiling. He had a nice face. I could stare at it for a while, too. Although he was likely to ask me more questions. “I’m disassociating.”
He mouthed a silent ah. “Rather do that than deal with Black Rock, huh?”
“You get it.”
“I do. If disassociating tonight helps you deal with tomorrow, you be your best space cadet self.”
“Okay,” I said happily.
He rummaged about the room doing whatever while I went back to staring at the ceiling. One of the many reasons why I wanted to marry this man was that he let me do the absurd without comment.
He was down to his boxers when he flopped onto the bed next to me. We lay there, side by side, staring at the ceiling.
“I have a question for Future Mack,” Brandon informed me. “Is he available?”
“Future Mack is listening but may not respond. What’s the question?”
“What do you want for a wedding? Something pomp and ceremony, courthouse, micro-wedding like Jon and Don did?”
As long as I didn’t have to think about ghosts or clearing out a town possibly harboring a demon, I was perfectly willing to engage. I turned to my side so I could see him better. “Future Mack is willing to discuss. I think a micro-wedding appeals very strongly.”
“Yeah?” His mouth curved up a little at my answer.
Oh, we might be on the same page. “For one thing, I don’t have a ton of people I would want to invite, and half of them are work colleagues who may or may not be able to make it.”
“A good point.”
“For another, I liked the fun of their wedding. Y’know? They didn’t do a lot of decorations, so it was easy to put up and take down, they had a casual vibe so people could just party and enjoy. It was the best of all worlds.”
“I really agree. For one thing, I don’t want to try and plan some big, formal event because our schedules are insane.”
“There’s that.”
“Plus, planning for a wedding, even with a wedding planner, is beyond stressful. More stress on top of an already stressful career is a big no thank you in my book.”
“Again, agreed.”
“So, micro-wedding, huh?” Brandon pondered this. “How about, say, March of next year?”
“That’ll give us about five months to plan.” I liked the concept of it, and surely in five months, we could throw something together. I’d have to figure out a venue, too. “Let’s tentatively say March, check with nearest and dearest to see if it works.”
“Okay.” Brandon pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed this query into the family chat. “Any thoughts on venue?”
“I got nada.” I pulled my phone out and did a quick Google search for micro-weddings in the Nashville area, then went huh as several possibilities pulled up. “Oooh, Brandon, they’ve got outdoor shindigs like this one. See this great outdoor patio space?”
“That’d be great for Jon,” Brandon agreed immediately. “Not to mention Abby. I know she’s not as electric, but still.”
“The two of them combined could take down a power grid, for sure.” I nodded. “Huh. There’s several older chapels or barns, or—oh wait. This place is in Murfreesboro. Great outdoor space for sure.”
“March might be too chilly for outdoors,” Brandon mused. “April might be better.”
“April is rainy season, though.”
“I know, but if we wait until June, then we’re sweating outside.”
“Ah. Point.”
This was trickier than I’d expected. No wonder people went a little crazy when it came to planning a wedding. There was a lot to consider.
I started making a list of guests on my notes app.
Brandon leaned his head against my shoulder, snuggling in with me as we both looked at the screen and added names.
It was lovely, a simple sort of connection I basked in.
It reminded me of another moment I’d experienced with him when we first started dating.
Looking back at the memory, I snorted in amusement at my past self.
Brandon tilted his head back to ask, “What?”
“Sorry, memory just popped up. We were cuddled in kinda like this on our first real case together, when we were trying to track down that ghost at my cousin’s.”
“Ah, right, I remember.”
“One morning, I woke up a little ahead of you, and you were just so cute cuddled against me. For a moment, it let me just be. Y’know?
Enjoy you, not worry about the future, just be.
I was half terrified at the time that you’d change your mind about us and walk, so those moments were something I clung to. ”
His thumb brushed my cheekbone, amber eyes searching mine. “Were you really that scared?”
“When even family routinely rejects you, it’s very hard to believe in the love of someone who has no call to love you.
Eventually, you overrode every fear. You stayed true to every promise you made me.
” I leaned in to kiss him softly. Because sometimes I just had to kiss him.
“I heard the analogy once that trust is like putting a drop in a cup. Over and over, until the cup is full. My cup was overflowing with you. Still is.”
“I admit to being frustrated with you sometimes”—his eyes were rueful—“but never to that extent. I’m glad I won your trust.”
“I realize now I was being a little silly sometimes. I was just very, very desperate to keep you, and conversely, it scared me at moments.”
“Makes sense. I felt just as desperate sometimes to keep you. I’m glad we figured out how to reach each other.”
So was I. Incredibly glad. I kissed him again, felt the mood shift. When his hands pulled me in, squeezing my ass, I knew his mind had gone straight to the gutter. I smiled into the kiss, my own energy levels rising as lust mixed in.
Breaking the kiss, I murmured, “If you’re willing to do the work…”
“Oh, I am quite willing.”
He normally was.
I helped a little, wiggling to get clothes off, tugging at his shirt to aid with its removal.
It was all done between lazy kisses because he might be willing to do the work, but he clearly wasn’t willing to rush us along.
Fine by me. I still had very little energy to spare.
Really, it heightened my pleasure, as I had time.
Not rushing any part of this, just soaking in the moment.
I warmed under his hands as they stroked over my skin, felt my nerves come alight.
Lying skin to skin with this man, held in his arms, was always a delight. Today, with me feeling so low in energy, I loved how he manhandled me. Those large hands wrapping around my legs or waist, turning me as he wished. It somehow made me feel decadent, like a prince who was being pleasured.
Brandon flipped me onto my stomach and an idea sparked. I glanced over my shoulder. “I took a shower twenty minutes ago and cleaned up.”
He paused, his amber eyes narrowing a little. “In other words, eat you out?”
“Please?” I did a naughty little ass waggle.
Snorting, he grabbed me by the thighs and yanked up, making me slide against the covers, which startled a laugh out of me.
That was quite fun! Then I felt my cheeks part, his hot tongue stroking my rim, and my laughter turned into a groan.
Loved that mouth of his. Especially when he speared his tongue into my hole and started tongue-fucking me.
God, yes. Loved that. I panted, trying not to squirm, but my instinct was to shove my hips backward to get more of that delicious ngh.
A fine tremor started in my thighs as his tongue pried me open bit by bit. The ecstasy of the act undid me, my nerves singing with pleasure and anticipation. As much as I loved Brandon’s mouth, there was another part of his anatomy I arguably liked just as much.
He lifted his head, replacing wet heat with cool air, which I was not okay with.
Then a big, blunt finger started stretching me and I replaced the whine of frustration with a purr.
God yes, loved that too. He had me stretched far too quickly—I may have been so lost to sensation, time passed like a blur—and I felt him, big and ready, as he breeched my hole.
I tried levering up to meet him partway, but his hold on my hips prevented me from doing anything more than shifting.
“Hold still,” Brandon breathed.
A tremor seized me from head to foot as I felt every glorious inch slowly, slowly slide in. I’d never get tired of the feeling. I’d never stop craving it. When I felt him bottom out, I hung in his hands and panted, loving the sensation even as I felt a little overwhelmed by it.
Then Brandon started moving. In and out, heavy thrusts rocking me on the bed. I got my forearms under me for balance, but my full attention was on his beautiful cock wrecking my ass.
I never had been able to come from my ass alone, but moments like these, I really wished I could. I’d love nothing better than to come as his cock hit that magic button inside me.
Abruptly, Brandon withdrew, grabbed my hips, then flipped me over.
I landed like a pancake on the reverse side, bewildered by what he was doing.
He certainly didn’t give me room to ask because next thing I knew, I had three fingers working in my ass and he’d swallowed my cock.
My eyes rolled right into my head, hands grasping at the pillow just so I had something to hold.
I slowly came unglued under his hands and mouth, my climax building with every bob, every movement of those talented fingers.
In a breath, I came unwound, barely choking out a warning before my climax hit me hard.
My hips arched without permission, cock sliding deeper into my fiancé’s throat.
Brandon swallowed me down, milking every drop of my orgasm until the sensation became too much.
I sagged against the mattress as I breathed, just breathed, trying to orient myself after my dizzying climax.
Brandon didn’t give me the chance. He slid upward on his knees, pushing into me again, and started fucking with the same pace and fierceness as before. It was a little uncomfortable, my nerve endings already sensitized and feeling a smidge overloaded.
It was also so unbearably hot to watch him thrust into me, over and over, a look of perfect bliss on his face. I let him go, enjoying the pleasure he so clearly felt, feeling high all over again for pleasing him.
His thrusts became a little erratic, a touch harder, then he slammed in and came in me, head thrown back as pleasure overcame him.
I expected him to just flop on top of me—which he did, his head pillowed on my chest, gusty sighs blowing across my skin.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, keeping him there, and kissed his forehead.
He was incredibly heavy, of course, but I liked being squashed with him still half inside me.
I loved the connection, the intimacy of it.
I kissed his forehead again. My voice came out huskier, lower, than I intended. “Mwen renmen’w, ma moitié.”
He made a boneless, nearly soundless rumble of pure happiness. “I love you too.”
We held each other for a long time, not wanting to move, not needing to. When the universe gave me a little time with my man, you better bet I took it. Nothing was more important than this precious man in my arms.
And frankly? I couldn’t wait to be married to him.