Chapter 26 Blue
The crisp fall air carries the scent of magnolia and honeysuckle as I get ready to step into the back yard of our new home in the Garden District of New Orleans. Last month, Vapor and I decide to purchase the three-story Victorian the day we toured it. The house was originally built in 1894 but was renovated and restored within the last couple of years.
I fell in love with it immediately, mostly because it has a turret, which made me think of an enchanted castle. Decorative wrought-iron railings and delicate gingerbread trim add a touch of whimsy. Since every day with Vapor feels like a fairytale, why not live in a house to match?
He agreed. Secretly, I think he was captivated by the stained glass windows in the enclosed sun porch. But the bathtub in the primary suite could have been the catalyst; after all, it has its own fireplace. Also, he mentioned loving five bedrooms because it would give us space to have a family when we’re ready for one.
Personally, I love everything about the house. It has a wide, welcoming porch which wraps around the front of the house. Babet and I adorned its columns with hanging baskets overflowing with trailing ivy and colorful blooms. We bought comfortable wicker chairs and a swinging bench, which is perfect for lazy afternoons spent sipping sweet tea and watching the world go by.
We repainted the exterior walls from a gaudy pink to a warm sage green with lavender accents. We kept the intricate white trim that frames the tall windows and doors. My favorite arched windows flank the mahogany front door, allowing natural light to flood the interior. It’s so bright and cheerful inside.
Along the front edge of the property, a low wrought-iron fence, with its delicate scrollwork and gate, offers a glimpse of the enchanting sanctuary within while maintaining an air of privacy and exclusivity.
Our backyard garden is a carefully curated oasis, with cobblestone pathways winding through beds of azaleas, camellias, and magnolias. Tall, ancient oak trees provide shade and a sense of history, their branches draped with Spanish moss that sways gently in the breeze. Earlier today, a dozen men from the MC arrived to transform it into a haven of love and camaraderie.
The largest oak tree is adorned with strings of twinkling lights and ribbons in shades of autumn—burnt orange, deep red, and golden yellow. Beneath its sprawling branches, a simple arch draped in ivy and fairy lights marks the spot where Vapor and I will exchange our vows.
Stepping out onto a path of pink rose petals, I glance around at a sea of familiar faces. Members of the motorcycle club sit in white chairs. Some have their girlfriends by their side. The men’s leather vests and denim jackets are a stark yet comforting contrast to the romantic setting. I wanted everyone to be themselves at our wedding. Dressing up and pretending to be something I’m not isn’t who I am anymore, so I didn’t expect anyone else to be that either.
The girlfriends of the club members add a touch of grace to the gathering. They’re all dressed in casual summer dresses that flutter in the breeze, vibrant fabrics reflecting the warmth of the day. Their laughter rings out like chimes, mixing with the deeper voices of their partners, creating a beautiful, harmonious symphony.
I always through my sister would be by my side on my wedding day, but she refuses to stop blaming me for our father’s death. She can’t be reasoned with, so I’ve stopped trying.
My mother never came back from Europe. I think she’s happy to finally be free of my father. In a way I don’t blame her, and honestly, I don’t miss her either. She was never a big part of my life before, so why would she be now?
Instead of my blood family, I have my club family. The three people I care about the most are standing under the arch, waiting for me.
Babet, my only bridesmaid and the only one I want by my side today, is wearing her favorite muumuu. The pattern of bold, tropical flowers in hues of turquoise, coral, and sunshine yellow brings a smile to my face. The fabric flows effortlessly with a relaxed, airy fit perfect for a casual wedding.
Beside her, Ice stands in jeans, a light green T-shirt and of course, his cut. He’s grinning at Vapor who hasn’t taken his eyes off me. Ice is his best man, but any one of the men in the club could have taken his place. They’re all brothers and they all love each other with the same ferocity.
A local jazz band plays “Who Loves You” by Billie Holiday and Teddy Wilson as I walk down the aisle. I chose it because it captures exactly how I feel about Vapor. I fell for him right from the start, and I long for his caresses.
Vapor stands between Babet and Ice, beaming. He’s so handsome in the slate gray suit he insisted on wearing. He said he didn’t want me looking all kinds of gorgeous in my dress while he looked like a hobo off the street. I laughed at the time, because it didn’t seem to matter, but as I watch the photographer snap photos, I’m glad Vapor dressed up for our wedding. It means a lot to me.
When I reach the front of the gathering, Babet’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “You look so beautiful,” she whispers as she takes my bouquet—a mix of wildflowers and roses. “I’m so glad he found you.”
“Me too,” I murmur before turning to take Vapor’s hands in mine. I gaze up at the love of my life and have to fight back my own tears. I never imagined a love like this could ever exist, but here we are.
One of the members of the club is an ordained minister. He offered to marry us, which was perfect. I’m glad we could keep everything in the family.
The first part of the ceremony is background noise to the hammering of my heart. My gaze locks Vapor’s as I begin my vows. “Vapor, you’ve seen me at my best and worst, and still, you’ve loved me through every storm.”
“And I always will.” He stands tall and proud, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Standing here with you today feels like the perfect harmony in a song I’ve been writing my whole life. From the moment our paths crossed, you’ve been my melody, my steady rhythm in a world of chaos, and my greatest adventure.
“You’ve shown me a love that’s fierce and unyielding, a love that roars like the engine of your bike and whispers like the sweetest jazz notes in a quiet club. You’ve been my protector, my confidant, and my greatest champion, believing in me even when I struggled to believe in myself.
“I promise to always stand by your side, through every high and every low, just as you’ve stood by mine. I vow to cherish every moment we share. To laugh with you in times of joy and hold you close in times of sorrow.
“I will be your rock, your home, your greatest fan, and your partner in all things. Together, we’ll write a love story that defies the odds, a story of passion, loyalty, and endless adventure.
“Here’s to a lifetime of open roads, moonlit nights, and melodies that never end. I love you, now and forever.”
As I slip the platinum band we chose together on his finger, the world narrows to just the two of us. Everyone else fades into the background once more. The officiant begins to speak, but all I can focus on are Vapor’s eyes, the love, and the promise they hold.
“Blue, from the moment you walked into my life, you brought a song to my heart that I never knew I needed. Your voice, your spirit, your strength—they’ve become the rhythm that guides me, the melody that brings light to my darkest days.
“You’ve seen the real me behind the leather and the patches, and you’ve loved me unconditionally. You’ve stood by my side through every twist and turn, giving me the courage to face the world head-on. With you, I’ve found a love that’s as wild and free as the open road, and as deep and enduring as the bonds of brotherhood.
“I promise to protect you, to honor you, and to stand by you through every challenge that comes our way. I vow to be your rock, your shelter, and your greatest ally. I will cherish every moment with you, from the quiet nights to the roaring adventures, and everything in between.
“Together, we’ll ride through life’s storms and bask in its sunshine, creating a story of love, loyalty, and endless passion. You are my greatest love, my partner in crime, and my forever. I love you, now and always.”
When he slips the ring onto my finger, a cheer erupts from our friends and family, their joy palpable. I can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and free, as he pulls me into his arms for our first kiss as husband and wife.
His touch, both tender and electrifying, ignites a firestorm in my soul. As he leans in closer, the warmth of his breath caresses my cheek. Everything slows down, each second stretching into eternity. The anticipation is almost unbearable, but it’s a sweet torment, one that I’ve been dreaming of for what feels like forever.
Then, finally, his lips meet mine. It’s a soft kiss at first, as if both of us are savoring the moment, committing every detail to memory. But as our lips move together, the kiss deepens, growing more passionate, more urgent.
The world around us erupts into cheers and applause, but it all seems distant, like background music to our own private symphony. All I can focus on is him—the way he holds me, the way his lips feel against mine, the way my heart seems to burst with love and joy.
As we pull back just enough to rest our foreheads together, I know this is the beginning of our greatest adventure yet. Surrounded by the people who mean the most to us, in this perfect moment, under the clear blue sky of a New Orleans fall, I know we’ve found our forever.
The reception rages far into the night. I’m moving through our guests, stopping to thank each one for coming when I catch Vapor talking shop with Ice. I move closer so I can overhear what they’re talking about. They don’t share club business with anyone outside the club, including old ladies, so the only way I know anything is by listening in when I’m not supposed to.
“Broussard’s still in the wind. No sign of him,” Ice says to Vapor.
“We’ll find him eventually. We always do.” Vapor shrugs.
“I doubt we’ll ever see the money we gave him to launder. Not that it was ours to being with,” Fang says.
“The money’s as good as gone. But we’ll be seeing Broussard again. Word is, his alliance with Vasquez is stronger than ever.” Diablo rubs his beard.
“That prick’s going to be a thorn in our side until we kill him,” Bones says.
“Should be our top priority.” Tank sniffs.
“We’ll get him and Broussard. The cartel’s days are numbered. I haven’t forgotten what they did to Demi. They’ll pay. But let’s talk about this shit later. Tonight, I want to party.” Vapor grins, motioning to a prospect to bring him another beer.
I step out of the shadows and wrap an arm around my husband’s waist. “Sweetie, I’m going to need you inside for a minute.”
“Does he need a whole minute?” Bones asks, snickering.
“More like thirty seconds,” Ice ribs him.
“Shut the fuck up, assholes,” Vapor says, laughing.
“Don’t worry. The beer will still be here when you get done consummating the marriage,” Diablo says in that gruff voice that still scares the hell out of me. However, there’s a tinge of humor in it that I don’t often hear from him. I can’t help but smile.
“I’ll have him back in three minutes tops.” I smirk, getting in on the fun.
“Babe, when have I ever been three minutes? More like an hour,” Vapor growls in a low, sexy tone.
“Prove it.” I raise a brow before grabbing up the pink skirt of my gown and racing for the back door.
“Better tan that woman’s hide.” Bones chuckles.
“Oh, she’s getting a spanking. That’s for sure,” Vapor hollers.
Every man in attendance cheers and catcalls us as we head inside. My face is burning because now everyone knows why I wanted my man alone. Oh well. They’re just jealous because most of them don’t have what we have. Love. And with that comes a whole lot of sex, which I’ve been missing since Vapor insisted we stop sleeping together for a month so the wedding night would be special. I never pegged him as sentimental, but apparently, he is in some ways.
As we walk into the bedroom, he slams the door behind me. A lusty grin spreads across his face as he stalks forward.
“Do. Not. Rip. This. Dress,” I warn.
“Never dream of it. I’m going to fuck you in it.”
“How? You’ll never make it past all this organza,” I taunt, backing toward our huge four-poster bed.
“Org-whatever-the-fuck that shit is, I’ll figure it out. You look so fucking hot in that dress, babe. You know what I thought about the whole time you were saying your vows?”
“How much you love me?” I arch a brow.
“Well, that too. But I was mostly dreaming about getting this dress off you.” He wraps his hands around my waist only to spin me around. Pressing his lips against my earlobe, he whispers, “All I could think about was bending you over and taking you while you’re still in your wedding dress. That’s how much I want you.”
“Then do it,” I reply in a throaty tone. He’s not the only one who had that fantasy during the ceremony.
He gathers the skirt of my dress up high enough to reveal the secret I’ve got hidden underneath. “Holy fucking hell.”
Last week, Babet and I went to a French lingerie store together. It took me forever to decide between all the gorgeous options, but I ended up getting something I thought might drive my man wild. Apparently, I chose well.
“The dress has to go. I’ve got to see this.” He carefully unzips the dress before helping me step out of it. As much as he wants to look, he waits until he’s hung my wedding dress back up on its pink satin hanger. When he turns back to me, his eyes bulge.
I’m wearing a flirty white eyelet embroidery lace-up bustier with grommet detailing and scalloped underwire cups. The matching panties have a G-string, and I do mean string, and they’re sexy as hell in the front. Also, they’re crotchless.
“Do you like it?” I ask, parading around in my pink satin heels. I’m also wearing a garter belt and sheer white stockings. I lean back on the edge of the bed and spread my thighs, revealing my damp core.
“Oh, yeah,” he growls, ripping off his suit jacket as he advances. “That all stays on.”
“Even the shoes?” I dangle one high heel off my foot.
“Especially those.” He grabs it and slides it back on, Cinderella style.
To his credit, he doesn’t just whip out his cock and dive right in. He’s slow and methodical in his tongue-fueled seduction. Kissing and licking up from the insides of my knees to the apex of my thighs, he slowly tries to drive me wild. And he does.
By the time he reaches my pussy, I’m writhing and begging him to kiss me there. When his mouth finds my slick heat, I arch, moaning and reaching for his hair. I grab hold, pulling him against me, shameless in my passion. No one else could ever make me like this. No one. Although I haven’t been with anyone else, I’m sure of it.
“You taste like crème br?lée with raspberries on top.” He licks my clit, fanning his tongue across it before swirling it around the little nub.
“Oh, Vapor, please,” I groan.
“Don’t worry, babe. You’ll be singing at the top of your range by the time I’m done.” He pokes his head up, flashing me a wicked smile.
True to his word, he laps at my sex, spurring me on, tasting and touching me until I’m ready to go mad. My stomach clenches as his mouth locks onto my dripping wet sex. He sucks, driving me wild and pushing me into blissful oblivion.
When I come down from that high, he’s poised over me, ready to claim me as his wife. I lift my hips and press the seam of my pussy against the head of his cock. He reaches under my ass and holds me at the perfect angle, sliding into me so slowly and so gently that I want to die from the pleasure he evokes.
With wickedly sinful strokes, he makes love to me. Pure passion builds between us, stealing my breath away. I grab his forearms, watching pleasure dance in his eyes. His smoldering eyes drop down to take in the erotic joining of our bodies. Rigid and thick, his huge cock pushes and pulls against my delicate pussy. It’s so carnal and luscious that I can’t get enough. Even if he made love to me ten times a day, I’d want more. He’s so damn good at it.
I want to ride this magnificent man more than anything in the world, so I roll him onto his back. He lets me, of course. Reaching for my lace-covered breasts, he caresses my nipples before deciding he’s had enough of my outfit. He reaches around and unzips the corset top before flinging it aside. Grasping my breasts with both hands, he kneads them until I can’t take it anymore.
Quickening my pace, I slide up and down his cock. My hips roll and my breath comes in soft pants. My breasts bounce against his palms and my hair falls out of the cute crystal combs Babet and I spent so much time arranging. I’m sure I look like a complete mess now, but I’m deliriously high on his dick and I don’t give a single fuck about anything else.
“Come for me, babe,” he whispers, pinching my nipples and thrusting to meet me halfway.
“Oh, God!”
“I want to feel your pussy suck my cock when you come.”
He says the filthiest things in bed, and I love it. He makes me feel so sexy and so desired, like I’m a gorgeous, radiant siren. And maybe I am. For him. Only him.
As I sink lower and lower, pushing him deeper, he strains against his own need. I see it in his eyes. I know exactly when he’s getting close, and I want us to reach that point together.
Juicy sounds of passion fill the room. The slap of flesh against flesh is music only we can hear. A sudden, frantic look passes across his face. He grabs my ass, jerking me hard against him. The pressure is too much. My clit throbs as I explode in a fit of spasms. I scream his name as I convulse on his cock.
He roars mine, flipping me onto my back and plunging into me one last time before stuffing me so completely, I’m sure I’m going to die on the spot. His hot seed fills me, melting me into a state of complete intoxication. I’m drunk on his sex, unable to do anything but lay there as he murmurs sweet words into my ears.
Much, much later, we lay in each other’s arms. I don’t think we’ll be able to move tomorrow, but that doesn’t matter. Our honeymoon in Paris will give us plenty of time to recover. That is, unless we stay in bed the whole time. And we might. I have a feeling his cock is much more interesting than the Eiffel Tower.
Giggling, I roll toward him, snuggling against his side.
“What’s so funny, babe?” he asks in a sleepy voice.
“That was longer than three minutes.”
“More like three hours. Is anyone still down there?”
“Don’t know.”
“Don’t care,” he murmurs, nuzzling my throat.
As we cling to each other, a feeling of peace settles over me. I’m a permanent part of his life now. Although I’ll never be patched in, threads of respect and mutual admiration have woven me into the fabric of his club. The beauty of this feeling of belonging stands in stark contrast to the gritty reality of the life I lived before we met.
And for the first time, I’m truly able to be myself.
Safe. Protected. Free.
***