Chapter Nine
Lark
Watching someone promise another forever is beautiful.
Benji is beaming as he tells his new wife how much he loves her. How lucky he is that he got a chance with her after an accident made her forget everything—except how much she loved him. Their story is one Lawson could write a sweet romance about—not that I would be able to read about my son the butcher’s smut with Tori.
Tori’s dress is beautiful, and she positively glows in it. A form fitting boho style lace gown, it is stunning with her golden hair and bright eyes. Her maid of honor Hanna wears pink as does her other two bridesmaids. I was also told to wear pink as well. My gown is one Tori chose, a silky number with a high slit on one side, thin straps, and a bare back. It is sexier than I expected her to choose but it fits perfectly, and I feel beautiful in it.
Sitting at the pew, I am hyper aware of Lawson. In a casual suit, his dress shirt unbuttoned a few buttons, he is so sexy. Benji is also casual in a fitted suit and a tie to match his bride’s dress. Everyone is beautiful, the flowers perfect, and the ceremony has us all laughing as well as crying.
“Now, please allow me to introduce you to Benji and Tori Stokes.”
Benji and Tori kiss before they turn to the crowd, holding up their hands in triumph. They walk down the aisle, followed by their loved ones, but my son pauses. Reaching out, he takes my hand to have me join them. Kissing the top of my head, he tells me he loves me and is grateful for me.
“I love you too, Benji. I am so proud of you. Both of you,” I share a look with his new wife, reaching over to kiss her cheek.
Tori has made my son happier than I have ever seen him. She is a good woman who loves with her whole heart. There is nothing she won’t do for the people she loves. I am so thankful he found her, and I hope Beatrix finds someone as good for herself.
Glancing back, my gaze meets Lawson. He is a good man too. A man who deserves a good woman. Someone who will love him, love his stories, but let him be as free as he needs to be. Part of me very much wants to be that woman. This weekend with him has been the best time of my life.
It would be something else if it could be more than this weekend. I know both of us want it to be. I do not know how we do that. How do I tell my son I borrowed his groomsman as a lover the weekend he got married? Could I tell him that I have felt more alive, more attractive, more adored than ever before?
Would my son accept me being in love with his groomsman?
Now is not the time to think about it. It is time to celebrate my son, my first born, finding his person, his other half. Our small group fills the smaller reception hall we celebrated in last night. Sharing a knowing smirk and a wink with Lawson, we head for the banquet spread as we have before.
“Hello, love,” he murmurs as he slides close beside me, a hand pressing to the small of my back. I take a step back to be discreet. He lets out a little growl and tugs, pulling me closer to his side. “No one is going to notice us tonight. It is not our night. If they do, so be it. Get back here.”
Laughing, I bounce a shoulder. His hand stays on my bare back, fingertips running up and down my spine. Shivers run through me as my nipples pebble. Noting this, he reaches out, tweaking one. I gasp, smacking at his hand playfully. Lawson laughs now, doing it again before he slips on a mask of indifference.
“Behave, sir,” I tease with a smirk at him. Being close to him, having his touch on my skin, it brings me to life. “Hands on your own goods.”
“Oh, beautiful,” his smirk is wolfish, eyes darkening as he wets his lips as his eyes trail over me. “You are my goods. Put my stamp of ownership on every.... single...inch of this perfect package, didn’t I?”
Swallowing at the rough, possessive growl his words come out in, all I can do is nod. He has had his hands, his mouth, his entire body all over mine in the past few days. Heat flushes me as I recall all the ways he has touched me, kissed me, taken me, a filthy reel of pleasure flashing before my eyes.
As I get lost in the haze I find myself in with him, I step back. Beatrix stands behind him. Head cocked as her eyes narrow on him suspicion is all over her face. I have no idea how to tell my children about this thing with Lawson. Let alone my daughter who wants her own thing.
“This is the cutest,” I comment, eyes scanning the table of food.
Tiny cheeseburgers, miniature hot dogs, cute cups of fries with little dollops of ketchup and more is the cutest spread so far. Tori’s friend made their cakes. Hers is covered in lace fondant, an adorable pair of lace panties—as in the ones she sells at her lingerie store—hang off the top. Benji’s looks like a slab of steak fresh off the grill. Them in a nutshell—or banquet.
“It is,” Beatrix is slow to respond, her eyes swinging between the two of us. “Chantel and Kady would have to cater my wedding. This is adorable,” Bea mentions friends of Benji’s from Harmony Hollow who gifted them the spread of adorable food.
“For my wedding,” Lawson chimes in, his eyes never leaving mine. “I think I would want afternoon tea. Finger sandwiches, crumpets, scones,” he lists off all the things I teases I would love at my wedding.
Flushing, I shake my head at how cute he is. Beatrix glances between us again so I drop the smile, taking a step back. Lawson frowns, taking a step closer. Bea notices. I begin to panic. Here and no place for this to come to light. We don’t even know what this is.
“Ma, what is wrong?”
“Calm down, Lark,” Lawson speaks low, calm, his eyes holding mine.
“All my favorite folks,” Benji calls with a boom, his arms going around mine and his sister’s shoulders. “I love you guys. Love you for being here. For being the best people ever. Luckiest man on the entire island!”
Crisis averted for the moment, we all embrace the new husband. I linger in his crushing hug longer than the others. I am not sure if I am hiding. Or if I am holding tight for fear of losing him. Losing my daughter. It is the same ticker tape thought that has ticked through my head since I sat in that tiny loo on the plane, waiting for Lawson to come to me.
What would my children think of what I am doing?
Lawson sticks close to my side, his hand on my back again. Beatrix watches us closely. No more questions come, however. We talk about the cute food, the beautiful flowers, their perfect vows, and all the things you celebrate at any wedding. Music begins and my son pulls me to the floor.
Our favorite song, a country tune about taking chances on love starts, bringing fresh tears to my eyes. This is the happiest day, yet I cannot stop the tears. We sway for a while, circling the floor as the others watch lovingly.
“This was beautiful, Benji,” I tell him honestly.
“It was. All I hoped to give to my old lady,” he answers with a tip of his head at his bride.
“You two will have such a good life, son,” I insist as I smile at Tori. “That is a good woman who adores you. It took some effort getting there but don’t all the best things take effort?”
“Yeah, they do, and the effort is worth it. We will remember this whole weekend for so long. All of us will. Hasn’t it been the best time?”
Pulling back as the song ends, I look up at him. His eyes skirt past me to where Beatrix and Lawson stand watching us. My daughter is mooning up at the handsome man—not that I blame her. However, that man’s eyes have stayed on me the entire time we’ve had this mother-son dance. He knows?
“It has been the best time, being here with all of you.”
“Yeah, I think so too, ma. All good people here, we’re so blessed.”
Again, his eyes land on Lawson and a flutter begins in my chest. In my stomach. A flutter of hope maybe? Does he know or suspect something has begun between Lawson and me? Does he mean his words approval? How could he ever accept his mother being with one of his friends?
“Your bonny lass is waiting for her hero, mate,” Lawson’s voice is low, closer to my ear, his hands touching my hips. I am stunned still.
Benji steps back to bow to his friend to play along with his overdone Londoner accent. Lawson tugs me back against his chest almost as if to answer Benji’s unspoken questions. If he has suspicions, they don’t seem to bother him because he leaves me with his friend to find his wife.
“Lawson, let’s not do the big reveal scene at their reception.”
“Oh, love, there is no need for a reveal. I’ve not taken my eyes off you for days. Same way yours stay on me. If no one knows what is going on, then this is not a room full of romantics. Come, our turn to take a spin round the dance floor, beautiful.”
Laughing, I let him spin me as some up-tempo songs start. Everyone joins the two of us with the newlyweds. The ladies kick our heels off, hike up our skirts, and the men tear off their jackets. A playlist of Benji and Tori’s favorite songs fills the room, and we all dance together for hours.
Lawson never lets me get too far, even though he lets me go to dance a few times with the rest of the wedding party. I even dance with Tori, Bea, and the other girls for a few songs. We eat all the food, devour the delicious cakes, make toast after toast, laugh, dance some more, and revel.
It is the best wedding I’ve ever been to—after going to three this weekend.
“Come, love,” Lawson’s voice rumbles in my ear. “Time to go behave as if we’re the newlyweds,” he teases me as he has before, kissing my ear.
Letting him lead me from the room, I don’t notice if anyone sees us leaving. I am a few champagnes and chicken dances past caring, I think. In the elevator, I push him in the corner, almost attacking him the moment the doors close. As we start moving, I am pulling at his clothes impatiently.
“You look so good in this,” I lament, tugging at his tie before I undo it. I crush my lips to his and he sighs, cupping my ass with his big hands.
“You look delicious in this. Going to look decadent out of it.”
Giggling, I nod. I cannot wait to lie beneath him, his eyes darkening as they eat me up. It is beneath that look I feel so beautiful. Special. That look has changed how I feel about myself, how I look at myself. If he can do this in a few days, what could he do to me given more time?
“Get me out of it then,” I whisper, turning my back to his front, pushing my ass out, tilting my head to show where the dress zips.
“Such a greedy girl after champagne. Need to remember that.”
Brushing my hair off one shoulder, he slowly starts to unzip it. Pulling it down my shoulders, his mouth presses to the back of my neck, across my shoulders, and behind my ear. My dress slips down my arms, but he catches it, grasping it in his fist at my bust.
“Not trying to show off my goods, were you love?”
“No, baby,” I hum, twisting my ass side to side to tease him. “They’re your goods. For your eyes only.”
A stinging slap comes down on my ass, sending a flutter of pleasure directly to my clit. His mouth presses to the back of my neck as his other hand wraps around my throat. Giving a little squeeze, he grinds his thick, hard shaft into my ass as a groan rumbles out of him.
“That’s what I want to hear, good girl. Get in the room and get on your knees,” he hisses, smacking my ass again before pushing me as the elevator doors open. I stumble forward, palms slamming against the door to the room. I am dizzy as he presses up against me to unlock it.
I am so turned on, I cannot see or breathe right. Giving me another push, he yanks at my dress, pulling it down my shoulders. It pools at my feet, and I turn, panting as I kneel in front of him. Reaching down, he gathers my thick hair in his hand, wrapping it around his fist. Glancing pointedly at the front of his slacks, he cocks a brow, smirking down at me.
“Be my good girl, take my cock out,” he demands in a raw whisper that sends shudders through me. “Fit all of me in that pretty mouth.”
Shivering, I reach up to obey his commands. Doing what he has told me since those first moments on the plane, telling me to calm down, has brought me nothing but pleasure. No reason to stop now. The pull of his zipper seems loud in the room until I notice how loud my breathing is.
“Good girl, open up,” he hums after I wrap my hands around him.
Pulling him out as his pants drop, I bring the swollen tip to my lips. I never enjoyed doing this before because I thought I fumbled it. I have done it a few times this weekend for him and grow more addicted each time. To the power it fills me with, to his throaty sounds, to the way his eyes watch me.
Flicking my tongue at the head, I let out a sound as his saltiness fills my mouth. Letting my tongue move around the swollen crown, he grows harder. Taking more of him, going until my nose hits his pelvis, I am growing braver. My hand cups his base and balls and I squeeze a little.
“Ah, fuck. Dirty little thing,” he hisses, head dropping to his chest. “Look at me. Eyes on me while you swallow me down your throat. That’s my good girl, don’t hide how it turns you on.” Reaching down, he pulls and rolls at my nipple as I start to bob on his cock. Grunting, his hand moves to my cheek, smacking gently as his thickness fills my mouth.
“Jesus that’s so hot. You love sucking my dick,” he accuses, tapping my face as I bob faster, taking him deeper, nodding as he gags me. “Yes, you love feeling how you turn me on. Such a good girl, baby.”
Pulling at my hair tangled in his fist until my scalp stings, he stills my head. His hips start working and I gag again as he fucks my mouth, soaking him in saliva. This must turn him on because he hisses a string of broken curses before he starts jerking faster, again, and again, pulling at my hair.
“Fucking perfect. Lark, my good, perfect girl.”
Turned on by his praise, my thighs grow wet with my arousal. Growing desperate, I reach down to rub at the ache in my clit. A loud rumble vibrates from his chest, and he pulls me off his shaft with a comical pop.
“My goods. Mine to play with, to eat, to fuck, to please.”
Bending, he scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder. I cry out as he lands two fast smacks on my ass, gripping a handful in his hand. I bounce on his shoulder as he strides towards the bed. Flipping me back, he grips my thighs, shoves them up, and buries his face between my thighs.
“Oh. Oh, yes, baby. I... I-I need it. I need you, Lawson.”
“You have me. Have all of me.”
Lawson eats two orgasms out of me before he pulls back. Wiping at his mouth with his fingertips, he pushes some of my cum into his mouth, humming as he savors it. Grinning, he flips me again, lying me on my stomach. Lifting me up with a tug at my hips, he wastes no time. Bending his body over mine, he pins me beneath him as he punches forward and fills me.
Pumping into me from behind, he rides me until I come again. I fall against the bed, but he doesn’t stop. Moving over me, he pulls all my hair up again, mouth against my ear as he fucks me. As he owns me. Ruins me.
“Going to give it to me again. Be my very good girl. Come on my cock,” his filthy words send me over the edge, and I do as he demands.
Lawson roars as he comes with me, huge body crowding mine as he jerks inside me. Winding his arms around me, he rolls us to our sides, drawing me close to his chest. We lie there holding each other when it hits me. We’ve made love for the last time.
It was as filthy as the books we love, as sweet romance gets. Tomorrow I will go back to the real world and close the chapter on this short, sweet, filthy romance of ours.