Spike (29 page)

I look down the aisle, with yellow and white wildflowers and white ribbons tied at the end of each row. I just want her here already. The suspense is slowly killing me. I can’t wait to see her in her dress, the one she’s been so secretive about. But really, isn’t a dress just a dress?

I took charge of the music, one of the few things I felt confident doing. Eevie bugged me for weeks trying to get me to at least tell her the song for when she walks down the aisle, but I stood my ground. I had the perfect song in mind, which has the words I wish I could’ve come up with. I want to make this day as special as she deserves, and prove to her once and for all that I will always be there for her.

The music starts, the soft sound of a guitar filling the room.

She’s here.

Keith Urban croons
Memories Of Us
, the words perfect for the occasion.

Cassie strolls down first, looking lovely in a long, silvery-blue dress. She doesn’t keep my eye for long.

The air I’d been holding in while waiting for a glimpse of my girl suddenly dissipates from my lungs. The moment I see her on the arm of her brother Chris, I find the answer to my earlier question. A dress is not just a dress when it’s wrapped around the woman who owns your heart. The sunlight pours in through the old glass windows. Her skin is glowing like an angel—
my angel
—and her smile has my heart doing backflips. The sparkle in her eyes lets me know I did good with the music.

She is beautiful … No, that word doesn’t even come close to describing the vision walking towards me.

The closer she gets, the more insistent my heart pounds. I might just cry.
Like a girl.
The words of the song do little to keep my emotions in check. The lyrics talk about promises, and the ones I make today will last until my last breath.

Eevie stands opposite me, and Chris places her hands in mine. I wanna kiss Eevie’s gorgeous lips right this second, but I know the vows come first. That much I remember from the rehearsal. I just hope to God I can spit my words out. I squeeze Eevie’s warm hands in mine, and she mouths “hi”. I do the same, and we both sigh, as the lyrics fade.

The minister rattles off his introduction, and we run through the stuff we did yesterday. Can’t say I’m really paying attention when this beautiful woman is standing beside me.

Finally, the minister gives me the nod. It’s time for the good stuff.

“I, Aidan Maverick Stone, take you, Genevieve Paige Lawson, to be my wife,” I repeat straight after the minister.

“I promise,” the minister continues, but I cut him short.

“I got this,” I interrupt. I know this off by heart, and here, in this moment, the idea of him saying it first doesn’t feel right. I’d kept these vows secret for a reason.

I look deep into Eevie’s eyes and grip her hands tighter. “I promise to be there for you, inspire you, and love you, no matter what obstacles come before us. You are my world. I love you for your beautiful kind ways, the fierceness of your love, and for finding that part of me that was waiting for someone as special as you. I vow to protect you, honour and respect you, and love you until my dying day.”

I slip the wedding ring on her finger, and she lets out a long, slow breath through parted lips.

“I, Genevieve Paige Lawson, take you, Aidan Maverick Stone,” the minister says firmly.

“I got this too,” Eevie says, holding up a shaky hand to silence him. I chuckle. Eevie smiles and shrugs. Look at my girl. Silencing the damn minister in the middle of the service.

“I, Genevieve Paige Lawson, take you, Aidan Maverick Stone, to be my husband. Today, I marry my best friend and soul mate. I promise to be here for you, always, come what may. I trust you with my life, my heart and I promise to encourage you and help you become all you can be. I’m so excited for the adventures ahead of us, and I can’t wait for the next chapter in our lives to begin. I promise to stand beside you and love you until the end.”

Like a throttle-grip on my heart, Eevie’s vows wrap around it.
Tight
.

I forget about the people watching us, bearing witness to our promises. I vaguely hear the minister pronounce us husband and wife, and with the green light given, I sweep Eevie up into my arms, lifting her feet off the ground, and kiss her with enough feeling to send me giddy.

I will never forget today. The way she looks, our words to each other, and the feeling deep down inside that I know will never fade.

I fucking found my forever.

****

* JONES (
yes, Jones
) *

“I fucking hate how they do this at weddings. Put the single blokes together,” I say on the quiet to Ryan. I lean in closer to him, an empty chair sitting between us at the rounded table. “You know, the only
good
thing about a wedding is drunk and horny-as-fuck-bridesmaids, and mark my words, before midnight, that maid-of-honour’s red lipstick is gonna be smudged at the base of my dick.”

“I can guarantee you it fucking won’t,” Ryan all but barks at me.

“Pfft. Why, ya think
you
have a shot?”

“You couldn’t be more wrong. Because she’s my fucking sister, so watch your mouth. And besides, her boyfriend is sitting behind us.”

I choke on a mouthful of my beer, and struggle not to spit it across the table. His sister. Well, I guess that rules that out, then. Between Ryan and the boyfriend, I’d be in over my head. I wouldn’t want things to get nasty. Ryan by himself could probably take me down. He’s a muscly prick.

The empty chair between us is pulled out, and I turn, expecting another single bloke.

“I think this is my seat,” says a tallish girl with dark eye-makeup, short jet-black hair and flawless olive skin. Her tits are practically bursting from her tight aqua dress, and then she does something with her tongue, and I get a flash of a piercing.

There’s only one reason a girl gets that done.

And tonight I’m going to reap the benefits.

Ryan stands to his feet, and extends his hand. “I’m Ryan, and you are?” he asks expectantly.

“Bridget,” she says low and husky, while she gives him a good eye-fucking. ”It’s
nice
to meet you, Ryan.” She says “nice”, but it’s like she’s thinking something else. And she all but growls his name.

Me? I’m still staring at her tits.

I guess I’d better do the
gentlemanly
thing
and stand. So I do. When Ryan decides to let go of her hand, I offer mine to shake.

“Well, hello there,” I say. “I’m Jones. Aidan’s teammate.”

She raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow. Motocross gets the girls wet. Every. Single. Time.

“Hey, Jones, nice to meet you too.”

“Please, sit down,” Ryan says, gesturing towards her chair.
Look at Captain Manners.

“Why, thank you,” she says sweetly, taking her seat and placing her glittery-looking purse on the table. She pulls her chair in close to the long white tablecloth.

“And what do you do, Ryan?” she asks.

“Ah, I’m a goat farmer,” he says, and smirks, before taking a long swig of his beer.

She giggles like a complete ditz, and grips his bicep with her closest hand. It lingers longer than it should.

“Well, I can safely say I’ve never met a more gorgeous goat farmer,” she says, and lets out a rehearsed laugh.

What a load of shit
. Goat farmer.
And she’s eating it up. I’ve had beers with Ryan a couple of times at Aidan’s place, but he’s always avoided the topic of what he does for a crust. He’s definitely no fucking goat farmer, I know that much. I can tell by the way he sizes people up that he’s a smart prick.

Ryan smirks at me, and his brows briefly jut up and down, just the once, but enough to piss me off. The fucker thinks he’s in with a chance. I’ll show him how to play this game. I’m the fucking master. I’ll be the one getting fucked tonight. Not him. It’s the only way I’m getting through all this sappy wedding-shit.

I slip my hand beneath the hem of the heavy linen tablecloth, and let my fingers softly glide over to Bridget’s knee.

She sucks in a quick breath through her parted lips, and her body shudders. She slowly turns her gaze to me, but she doesn’t do a thing to stop me.

Let’s see how much further I can get with this. It might end with a slap across my face, but at least I tried. If this one doesn’t work out, at the buffet I saw a young bird in a green dress who kinda looks like Eevie. She’d sure as shit look good bouncing up and down on my dick, whoever she is. She must be a cousin, because I’d already asked Aidan tonight if Eevie had a sister. Then he told me if she did have one, I wouldn’t be allowed within ten square kilometres of her.

She clears her throat, and flutters her lashes like there’s something stuck in her eye.

“So, what do you do for a job?” I ask, and explore higher up her leg, circling the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

“I, um, work part-time in a café, but for the most part I’m at uni. That’s how I know Eevie. I’m studying clinical psychology.”

“And do you
like
it?” I ask, slipping her silky soft panties aside and rubbing on her hot, wet clit.
Damn
. So wet. I knew it.

Her mouth drops open. “Um, yeah,” she whimpers after a long silence. I slip a finger inside her heat, and slowly withdraw it before sliding it in deep.

She nods several times and nervously grips the edge of the table. “I like it a lot,” she adds.

“I bet you do,” I reply, and wink.

“Can I get you a drink, gorgeous?” Ryan interrupts, placing a hand over her white knuckles. She shifts her gaze to his thumb as he smooths it over the back of her hand in a comforting gesture.

“Please. Champagne,” she begs. So I rub that little bit harder. Her legs begin to shake, but I’m afraid, princess, it’s not time … yet.

Ryan stands. “You thirsty, Jones?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

I slowly withdraw my hand from between her soaked legs, and wipe my fingers on the tablecloth before standing.

She blinks madly at me, and then does the same to Ryan.

“Don’t fret. We’ll be back in a sec.” I wink, and make my way over to the bar.

****

“Are you in to threesomes?” I ask Ryan as I shuffle up next to him at the far end of the bar.

For such a question, he doesn’t look as shocked as I’d expected. “It’s been a while, man.” He takes a swig of his beer, and looks suspiciously at me as he hands me a bottle. “Yeah, I’m into ‘em.”

“Yeah, well normally I’m into a two-girls-and-a-guy kinda threesome, but what say you and I tag-team this bird? I reckon she’d be totally into it. She’s that fuckin’ horny, and wet—“

“Wait a minute. How do you know she’s wet?”

I wipe my finger under his nose, and he jerks his head away, almost dropping his beer. “That smell like roses to you?” I ask.

He chuckles. “No, man. It don’t. You sly fucker. You were fingering her under the table? You dirty bastard.”

I throw back my head and laugh. “I reckon she was a good stroke or two from comin’. I’m just getting’ her worked up for later.”

“So, we gonna do this or what?” Ryan dares, putting down his beer to loosen his tie.

“Hell yeah.” I look back to the table, and her eyes are on us. “Just follow my lead. Don’t say anything stupid.”

“Nah, man. I’ll leave that up to you.”

Cocky prick. Still, I guess there’s no point bringing a wimp to a party for three.

“When we get back to the table, sit real close to her. We’ll give her a little … preview,” I add.

“Righto.”

When we get back to the table, we sandwich her in, our thighs right beside each of hers. Yeah, this is totally gonna work.

I turn my upper body in the chair to face her, placing my hand on her closest shoulder. Ryan follows suit. The testosterone bouncing between us is fucking intense. This is some sandwich—or at least, it will be.

“You ever been spit-roasted, girl?” I whisper into her ear. I say girl, because I can’t remember her name.

She swallows hard and her cheeks go all pink. She looks at Ryan, and then back at me. Her eyes light up with mischief, and she bites down on her plump lower lip.

“Nope,” she says casually.

Ryan sits there, looking like he’s ready to rip her dress off. The fucker is probably as horny as me. And that’s saying something.

I slide my hand behind her neck, and make a pattern of circles at her nape with my finger. Leaning in close, my mouth grazes her ear. “You wanna be? ’Cause I reckon you’d be
real
good at it.”

I use the tablecloth again as some kind of protection, and grip her inner thigh. Exploring higher under her short-arse dress, my knuckles graze another hand.
What the?

Ryan.

I’m tempted to make this girl come right here and now, maybe to show Ryan who’s boss, but she’s not getting some until I get some.

“Yeah. I’m up for it if you are,” she says, moving her knees apart further.

Well, this wedding just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

* AIDAN *

I stand up at the table, tapping the side of my glass with the nearest piece of cutlery I can lay my hands on. The hum of chatter comes to an abrupt halt.

“We didn’t want to go overboard with speeches, so I just wanna say a few words.” I loosen my tie, and clear my throat. “All of you are here today because your love and friendship are important to Eevie and I, and we wanted you to share in this special day. Some of you think my world is work and motocross; and it was, up until Eevie came into my life. I still have those dreams and aspirations, but now I get to share them with someone special, someone that I can build a future with. Build a home. Have a family.”

I take in a deep breath, and turn my attention to Mum.

“I owe a big thanks to my mum, for raising me to be the man I am today. You taught me to work hard for the things I want, and you did everything you could to make my dreams come true. I hope that I’ve made you proud.”