Chapter 41
God clearly got off testing me. There was no other explanation for it.
Not only had I had to endure the hellacious time when Phoebe was in the hospital, but now six weeks after she came home, I was enduring a new kind of hell.
Burying my nose in her hair, I inhaled the scent of her skin. My cock throbbed against the soft, rounded curve of her ass while she slept.
It was like this every morning.
I’d wake up first, my internal clock trained by years of construction.
I didn’t mind that. It gave me a chance to watch her as she slept, her hair spilling across the pillow, her breathing soft and even with the occasional soft snore.
I took this time to revel in the fact she was alive. My wife was alive and in my arms.
Her marriage to Jeremy hadn’t been over for more than a day before I carted her to the church. Everyone had gone above and beyond decking out the place. It was perfect and as easy a day as possible for Phoebe, who still needed so much care and rest.
When I’d asked her to marry me the first night she was home, I’d been clear I was going to marry her legally the second her divorce was final. She thought I was joking. I wasn’t.
Brushing her hair back from her face, I counted the smattering of freckles on her cheeks and nose.
The image of those freckles, tinged in pink as she walked down the aisle, rose in my mind.
“My God…”
“Mom’s pretty,” Lock agreed at my side. Lock, my dad, and Wade were my best men. I wanted them at my side when the vision walking toward me made me question if I was alive or if this was heaven.
Phoebe wore a white gown of lace and satin, showing off the curves I loved so much. The green of her eyes glowed as she made her way to me. Her hair fell in waves around her face, a concession she made because she knew I couldn’t resist sifting my fingers through it.
Alex walked beside her, only to stumble for a second. Then with determination, she brought Phoebe to me.
The moment was perfect. Surrounded by the people we loved and who loved us the most in return, I made Phoebe my wife according to the law. She’d been my wife for a while, something only she and I knew.
When I’d proposed to her, I’d recited the vows I’d given her the first night in the hospital.
She’d wept then. “I’d hoped that was real,” she said. “I dreamed and I hoped.” She’d heard me in her coma. She’d heard me, and that moment was just for us.
In front of our family, I gave her my vows again. I’d do it again and again and again, if it meant she looked at me like that.
When it was her turn, I was the one who couldn’t contain my tears. Everyone was confused when she had Alex hand her a book. A book, a single edition that would never be published, and yet was her greatest work, she claimed.
“As a writer, I have lived most of my life in stories. Some about love. Some about pain. But there was always one story I couldn’t write.
I know now it was because it wasn’t only mine.
It was ours. You walked into my broken house and saw more than the damage.
You saw me. You saw my son. You saw every locked door, every secret, every frightened piece of me, and you never made me feel ashamed for needing time to open them.
Your love is the pen in the story of us.
Your courage is written in every moment you were beautifully, unapologetically, you.
Your strength gave me the safety to be me.
You took a woman and her son, and by simply being you, gave us proof God still writes beautiful things.
So today, I offer you my heart, my soul, and this.
” She handed the book to me. “This is the story of us. The first pages, anyway. I promise to keep writing it with you every day for the rest of our lives. I take you, Tyler Marcus Brockmann, as my husband, my best friend—”
“Let it be noted I’m generously sharing the title,” Alex inserted, the entire church erupting in laughter.
“–and the only home Lock and I ever want. I swear to love you in every ordinary morning, every hard season, every unfinished room, every story still waiting for us. Books are timeless, filled with voices lasting through the centuries. And this one will tell of my love for you. No matter the lifetime, no matter the world, no matter how many pages stand between us, you will hear my words and feel my love in every one.”
That book sat on the dresser in our bedroom. The story of us.
Phoebe had written it all down from the beginning, so when I looked at it or read it, I’d know how completely she belonged to me.
“Mmm.” She wiggled her butt against me, and I tightened my hold on her.
“It’s not happening.” I knew what she wanted. Hell, I wanted it. It wouldn’t happen at the expense of her health. The doctor hadn’t cleared her for how I wanted to take her yet.
Turning in my arms, she gave me a sleepy smile. “We can be careful.”
“No.” I wanted her more than I could breathe. I also knew once I started touching her like that I wouldn’t be able to hold back.
She pouted and I couldn’t resist kissing those lips. Her little hand slid down my chest, wrapping around my cock. I moaned, thrusting a little into her hand. I was only human after all, and when my wife touched my cock, saying no required saintly control. And I had no interest in being a saint.
“The doctor said I couldn’t strain my heart.” She pushed me back, her grip tightening.
My cock throbbed, my balls aching. I couldn’t let her do this.
“I want to do this.” She kissed her way down my chest. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud.
Her hand slid down, cupping my balls. And sweat popped out on my brow. I wanted to be touching her. I needed to feast on her. Forcing myself to hold still, to fight those urges while she touched me was a workout I didn’t know I’d survive.
At the first swipe of her tongue, I roared, “Christ! Your mouth is—” My words died when she slid her mouth over me, swallowing me as much as she could. I grabbed her hair, not letting her take me all the way, making sure she could breathe.
I felt the heat of her mouth all over my body. She pumped my cock, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked me. I wasn’t going to last long. Her wicked fingers played with my balls, one finger slipping back to rub the bit of skin between my balls and ass.
It was too much and I came with a howl. Roughly, I pulled her off me, not letting her swallow my cum.
I knew with the way she had to breathe, it would be too much for her to keep up with.
And I came hard. She milked my cock with her fist as I trembled, my orgasm spilling all over my abdomen and our bed.
Phoebe looked up at me wickedly. Like the minx she was, she licked her lip and then dipped her head, licking some of my cum off my hip where it sprayed.
She moaned. “I missed this.”
Hauling her up, I kissed her, tasting myself on her. Palming her ass, I held her still when she wiggled, my semi-hard cock nestling at the apex of her thighs as they spread over my hips.
I calculated how I could take her, how to make sure her heart rate didn’t go up above the doctor’s limits. I wanted to worship her body with mine. I’d just wrapped my hand around her neck, my fingers settling at her pulse, my cock once again hard at her entrance. Her wet heat coated my cock.
“You aren’t wearing panties.” It was an accusation. She always wore panties unless… “You planned this.”
She shrugged with a little shimmy of her hips, and my cock was lodged just inside her. She let out a throaty moan, and I knew I was fucked. There wasn’t any way in hell I could stop now.
“Fuck…” I cursed, contracting my muscles. I wouldn’t move. I couldn’t. If I held still and let her fuck her pretty little pussy on me, I could make sure she didn’t hurt herself.
“TYLER brOCKMANN!” A loud pounding sounded on our closed bedroom door. “YOU BETTER NOT BE VIOLATING MY BEST FRIEND WHEN SHE HASN’T BEEN CLEARED BY THE DOCTOR!”
Phoebe’s head dropped to my chest. “I hate her.”
The banging continued. “I MEAN IT! YOU KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS TO YOURSELF!”
Phoebe lifted her head, yelling back. “GO AWAY! I’M VIOLATING HIM!”
The door flew open. “My eyes!”
I was rolling, putting Phoebe behind me, yanking the sheet up over us. My cock decided hiding was a good idea in the face of my wife’s BFF.
“Get out, Alex!” I pointed to the door she should be on the other side of.
“My poor, poor eyes,” she complained, slamming her hand over her eyes. “They’ll never be the same.”
Rolling her eyes, Phoebe shook her head. “Like mine recovered from seeing your naked tango with—”
“I forgive you!” Alex rushed, dropping her hand.
What was this?
Without an invitation, Alex jumped on the bed where Phoebe had slept, stretching out.
“Shove off, Alex.” I pulled the blankets tighter around us. I wasn’t embarrassed being seen naked. I could just do without the physical critique the demon felt necessary to share with anyone she met that day.
“No can do, dimple butt. Our girl has her first TV interview today and she should have been up twenty minutes ago.”
“She is right here,” Phoebe pointed out, affronted.
“Anyway,” Alex chattered on as if she hadn’t spoken. “We have to get some coffee into her, at least two cups. We only have ten minutes before the makeup people arrive.”
“What about breakfast?” I was all about making sure Phoebe ate. She’d lost too much weight since the shooting.
Alex gave me an unimpressed look. “Like I said, coffee.” Glancing over my shoulder, she frowned. “Your husband needs a lesson on nutrition.”
“Dare I ask if it’s safe to come up?” my mom hollered from downstairs.
Flopping back on the bed, I groaned. Great. Just what this morning needed.
“It’s cool, breakfast-delivering slave,” Alex yelled back, then paused. “Actually, stay there. They’ll be right down.”
With a stern look, she threw herself out of our bed, heading downstairs with a chorus of “my poor, poor eyes” echoing after her.
“Don’t worry.” Phoebe rubbed her hand on my back. “She’ll move out once she figures out who she’s going to torture next.”
I doubted that. “She’s here until she doesn’t want to be.
” As much as Alex made sure my blood pressure was nice and high, I wasn’t going to ask her to leave.
She was family, even if I refused to admit it to Satan’s little helper.
The woman didn’t need any more encouragement.
“How do you feel about a little guest cottage at the back of the property?”
I’d been up late drawing up the designs thinking Alex having a bit of space while still being close was the perfect solution. Now, if I could find a way to have holy water come out of the taps…
“You’d do that?”
“For you? Anything.” I kissed her until she pulled back, her breathing erratic. Damn it.
“NOW, DIMPLE DICK!”
Phoebe giggled and I decided to keep my retort to myself. After all, this was the rest of my life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.