Cop a Feel (Handcuffs and Happily Ever Afters) (27 page)

“I, Bruce, take thee, Donna, to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” He smiled down at me and I melted. I gripped his hands tighter and he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I’ll always have your back and I will fuck you senseless daily. I promise to try and raise the toilet seat, but I won’t give any guarantees on that one. I will change diapers and I will watch whatever you want on TV as long as you give me a blow job at least twice a week. Does that all work for you?”

“I heard most of that,” my brother Mitch moaned in disgust.

“I thought it was lovely,” Shoshanna chimed in.

I blushed to the roots of my hair, which was now red—a dark rich auburn. Bruce, my husband, had a dark brown look going that he carried off beautifully. I’d thought about going blonde, but it really wasn’t my color.

“Are you going to stare at me or say your vows,
Donna
?” Bruce asked with a wicked sexy smile on his very pretty face.

“I’m going to say my vows,
Bruce,
” I shot back, grinning like an idiot. It was hard to keep our new identities straight, but we were getting better. It was a no-brainer what names to pick. I’d been following the antics of Bruce and Donna the entire time of my courtship with Luke. They were based on us, and Shoshanna had retired them after Luke and Candy had died. She explained to her fans why and they embraced her decision with love and support. So the names were up for grabs and we took them . . . along with the most common surname we could think of. Smith. We were now Bruce and Donna Smith and had all the paperwork to prove it. The dykes worked fast, God love them.

Vows. Now.

“I, Donna, take thee, Bruce, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” I leaned in and added my own special extras . . . “I promise to double down on the blow jobs as long as you return the favor. I promise not to shoot you when you annoy me. I think we’ve both been shot enough to last a lifetime. I think we should take one week a month when we wear no clothing at all and I’d like to have sex in the next half hour or I will explode. Deal?” I whispered, and heard my brother groan in agony.

“Deal,” Bruce said.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss your goddamned bride,” Shoshanna shouted and the guests clapped joyously.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yep. Totally.”

My husband, Bruce, kissed me senseless and I forgot anyone else was even there. It was me and him, together . . . forever. My own happy ending . . . God, life was fucking great.

Robyn Peterman writes because the people inside her head won’t leave her alone until she gives them life on paper. Her addictions include laughing really hard with friends, shoes (the expensive kind), Target, Coke with extra ice in a Styrofoam cup, bejeweled reading glasses, her kids, her superhot hubby, and collecting stray animals.

A former professional actress with Broadway, film, and TV credits, she now lives in the South with her family and too many animals to count. Writing gives her peace and makes her whole—plus having a job you can do in your PJs works really well for her. You can follow Robyn at robynpeterman.com. She loves to hear from her fans.

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Copyright © 2014 Robyn Peterman

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First electronic edition: June 2014

ISBN: 978-1-6018-3256-6

ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-257-3
ISBN -10: 1-60183-257-5