A Very Dirty Wedding (51 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Gaige

"Well, Akira-san isn't pleased, and there's unfortunately no way for his company to save face," Beau says, his brow wrinkled as he looks at me over the table at dinner.

I don't think he's entirely comfortable with the idea of Delaney and I being together, but he's not opposed to it either, and at least he's been publicly supportive.  It hasn't affected the team either; I guess it's good that the scandal happened when it did during the trip, before I'd started back officially racing.  My manager says I should lie low for another couple weeks and give the whole thing time to blow over.  Holing up with Delaney for a few weeks sounds just fine to me.

"I'm sorry, Beau," I say.  I'm not sorry about Delaney and I, but I'm sorry for how things turned out.  If Beau were any other man, I'm sure he'd have fired my ass and slapped me with a lawsuit, but Beau just waves dismissively, his steak knife in hand.

"Naw," Beau says, his drawl becoming somehow thicker.  "You'll be sorry if you do anything that hurts my daughter."

"Dad," Delaney warns.  "He's already heard this."

"There's no harm in repeating things," Beau says.  "That's how they stick in your memory."

"I promise I won't hurt Delaney," I say.  "On my honor."

Beside me, Delaney snorts.  "I didn't know you had honor," she says.

Beau glowers at both of us while he points at me with his knife.  "For his sake, I hope he does."

Delaney giggles.  "It was a joke," she says.

Beau shakes his head.  "Give it a month before we start joking about any of this," he says.

Later that night, Delaney lies on her stomach, in bed naked, her arms on my chest as she looks at me.  "So your manager recommended lying low for a few weeks?" she asks.  "No racing?"

"I don't know about that, darlin'," I say.  "You know I need to ride.  But nothing official."

"No stunts," she warns.  "Nothing stupid."

"Cross my heart," I say.

"I don't believe you," she says.  "If you swore on your dick, I'd take it much more seriously."

"Is nothing sacred to you?" I laugh as I run my hands through her hair.

"Oh, is this supposed to be sacred?" she asks, her hands running down my abdomen to my cock.

"Didn't you say you made a shrine to it?"

"Mhmm," she says, and my dick hardens to her touch.  "But that was a shrine to the mold you made of it.  Speaking of that….was it really your cock?"

I flip her over onto her back, kissing her gently on the lips.  "I'm hurt that you couldn't tell."

She tilts her head up to look at me.   "So you keep cock-making molds around your house in case of emergencies, or what?" she asks.  "How did you have it done by the next morning?"

"It required effort," I admit.  Specifically, I had to drive around to adult stores at two in the morning to find a dildo-making kit.

"That's a lot of work for a prank," she says.

"I had to impress you."  I run my hand over her breast and watch as her nipple hardens

"Is that what you wanted?" she asks.  "To impress me?"

"I've always wanted to impress you," I tell her.  "Even when I was giving you grief."

"But why?" she asks.  She moves against me, arching her back, and I can feel her wetness against me.

"Because I've liked you since I met you," I tell her, kissing the tip of her nose.

"But you were always going out with other girls, and –"

"And I was a stupid kid back then," I say.  "And the summer we hooked up, there was no one but you, Delaney.  Even before you kissed me.  Once we started talking, I just…lost interest in anyone else."

She arches up to kiss me, her touch tender, and when she finally pulls away, her hand is still on my neck.  "I thought – I just didn't think I meant anything to you."

"You meant everything to me," I tell her.  I can't believe she didn't understand the whole time.  "It was always you.  And when you didn't meet me that night, when you left…"

"I saw you in the news later," she says, her voice soft.  "There were always photos of you with other girls."

"Why do you think there were so many?" I ask.  "I was fucking gutted when you left.  And then when you came back…well, I didn't know what the hell to do with you here.  But I do love you.  That much, I'm sure of.  I think I've always loved you, Delaney."

Her eyes glistening with tears, she arches up to kiss me, her tongue finding mine hungrily.  I'm trying my best to be gentle, tender, kissing along her neck and her shoulder and her arms and over her breasts and her stomach, but she pulls my head up and looks at me, her hands on both sides of my face.  "Don't," she says.

"Don't what?"

"Don't make love to me, Gaige," she whispers.  "I don't want tender.  I want you to fuck me."

"Hell, Delaney," I say, but the words come out raspy.  This girl knows how to push every button I have with the shit that comes out of her mouth.  "I tell you I love you and you tell me to fuck you hard."

A broad smile crosses her face, and she reaches for my cock, guiding it between her legs.  With one thrust I'm inside her, and she's warm and wet and tight.  I ride her slowly, excruciatingly, painfully slow, torturing her just for the hell of it.  Letting her know who's still in control.

She grips my ass cheeks and pulls me deep inside her, and then I'm fucking her harder.   She lets me know I'm not the one in control here.

I ride her until she's panting, moaning my name over and over, and when I pull out, she sighs, exasperated.  "What are you doing?"

"You didn't want tender," I say.  "You wanted me to fuck you."

Delaney smiles.  "Yes," she whispers.

"So turn over and let me fuck you."

Delaney turns over onto her elbows, her ass in the air, and I slide easily back into her willing pussy.  She moans loudly, clutching at the pillows, pressing her mouth into one as I fuck her, my thrusts harder the louder she gets.  I press a finger against her asshole, and she jerks up at my touch.  "Oh my God, Gaige," she cries.

"What?"

"You're going to make me come," she moans.  I thrust inside her fully, filling her up until I can't fit any more in her.

"Come for me, darlin'," I order her.  "Tell me you want me to fill you up with my cum."

"Yes, yes," she moans.  "I love the way it feels when you come inside me."

She says the words and I let go, my balls clenching and then unleashing my seed, my hands gripping her waist as I drive into her so hard I think I might drive through her.  She screams as her muscles tense around me, their spasms milking my cock of every ounce.

Afterward, I pull her against me, still inside her, and roll her next to me on the bed, my leg wrapped around her.  We lie there in silence, and I listen to her heart beating next to mine, her breath still ragged.

Lying there with her, my heart feels like it's going to fucking explode.  I feel content, and that's not a familiar feeling.

She's so quiet that I think she's fallen asleep until she whispers soft in the room, "I love you Gaige."

"I love you De
lamey
."

She slaps me hard on the arm.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Gaige

I'm hanging out by the pool with Daniel – his idea, not mine, something about needing to get some sun.  The guy is in theatre, so he's in between auditions with nothing to do during the day, and Delaney's working today.  Since I'm still lying low for the next couple weeks, that means I'm at the gym and riding the bike, just not publicly.  And today, it means I'm hanging out at the pool with Daniel, who's pretty cool.

We're sitting in loungers in the sun and Daniel is telling me about Delaney and what she was like in college.  "Totally type A," he says.

"Any boyfriends I need to have murdered?"

"Ooh, possessive," Daniel says.  "I like it.  But mum's the word on boyfriends.  I'm afraid I don't kiss and tell and neither does Delaney."

"So you're saying there's someone I'm going to have to kill, then," I say, and I'm about to continue when I hear Anja's voice as she comes down the walk.  "Goddamn it."

Daniel peers over the edge of his sunglasses.  "Is that Delaney's wicked stepmother?"

I groan.  "It's my mother," I say.  As usual, she's dressed in something ridiculous – this time it's some kind of purple sheath dress with weirdly shaped cutouts that expose her body, something no son wants to see.  And shoes with silver spikes along the heels.  Behind her trails the biggest douchebag-looking guy I've ever seen, his dark hair gelled back and an orange spray tan.  He's wearing a half-sheer t-shirt and a pair of stretch pants that look like they could very well be Delaney's.

I walk out the gate to meet the wicked witch and her evil minion.  "Morning, mother," I say.  "Showing up here in true classy form, I see."

"I came to get my things, while your father is at work," she sniffs.

"I'll tell the housekeeping staff to watch the silverware," I say.

"I can see your attitude hasn't improved any."

"It's improved plenty," I say.  "But with you here, it's quickly souring."

"So you haven't come to your senses, then," she says.  "You're still persisting with this disgusting relationship."

Anger surges through me, and I struggle to maintain my composure, only because my mother would love more than anything to elicit a reaction from me.  That would be exactly what she wants, and I'm not inclined to give her anything she wants.  "It's ironic that you find mine and Delaney's relationship disgusting when you're obviously with this little troll here."

Anja's eyes narrow as she looks at me.  "You leave her now, or you're out of my will."

"Is there anything left?" I ask.  "I'd always just assumed you spent it all on vodka and cigarettes."

"You smoke?"  Orange guy, formerly silent, speaks, looking at her in shock.

"No," she says, her voice terse.

"Oh, she does a lot of things I'm sure you're not aware of," I say.  "Yoga is only the newest fad.  Mother, I'd appreciate it if you would write me out of the will.  That way I can trust that I'll never have one of these little visits from you again."

"You've always been an ungrateful little shit," she says.  "You're nothing without me.  I raised you."

"Yes," I say.  "Despite your best efforts to the contrary, you raised a son who through some twist of fate was able to land a girl like Delaney.  And I don't mind telling you to just go fuck yourself."

"You don't talk to me that way," she says, but I turn to head back to the pool.

"I'm calling up to the housekeeping staff now," I say.  "I'm sure it would be best if one of the security guards escorted you while you pack up your things."

She unleashes a barrage of curses at me, but I'm not listening as I return to the lounge chair beside Daniel.

"Well, that was dramatic," he says.

I settle back against the chair and close my eyes.  "I'm Gaige O'Neal," I say.  "Would you really fucking expect anything less?"

Later, I sit in the oversized chair in the guesthouse living room.  Delaney sits on my lap, snuggled up with her face buried in my neck.  A year ago, if you'd have told me that I'd be happily cuddling with a girl, much less Delaney Marlowe, I'd have told you to go fuck yourself.  Yet, here we are.  And it feels good.

"Daniel said he conned you into laying out by the pool with him today," she says.  "He was totally scoping you out."

"Well, I'm a hot piece of ass," I tell her.  "Make sure you don't forget it."

Delaney giggles.  "I'll try not to," she says.  "So Anja showed up, huh?"

"With the yoga instructor she's seeing, Paul or something," he says.  "Your poor father."

She's silent for a minute.  "I think he might be more relieved than anything, honestly."

I pull her away from me and look at her carefully.  "You think there's actually hope for us, then?"

"Like, happily ever after and all that?" she asks.  "I don't know if it'll work, Gaige."

"Well, shit, at least no one can say you're not honest."  I bristle at her words.

"No," she says.  "Let me finish.  I don't know what the future holds or anything like that.  I don't know if it'll work.  But I know that when you find someone that makes you think about the future that way, you have to jump with both feet, and give it a shot."

"You're such a fucking romantic," I say.

Delaney slaps me.  "It's not going to be all rainbows and sunshine, you know," she says.

"God, I fucking hope not," I tell her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Delaney

Two years later

"Oh my God, Gaige, hurry up!" I yell upstairs.  "We're late for the wedding!  The limo driver is literally standing outside the front door!"

Gaige walks down the stairs dressed in a tuxedo, looking so hot I swear my panties should be melting off.  If I were wearing any panties under this dress.  But I'm not, at Gaige's request.  It's totally inappropriate, but then Gaige and I were never really all that appropriate, I guess.  He gives me that cocky grin of his, and wolf whistles.  "Whoa.  Look at you."

"Good?"  I spin around in the dress, a wine-colored floor length gown with an off the shoulder neckline.

"Great," Gaige says, sliding his hand around my back and dipping me back as he kisses me.  I slap him on the arm, and he pulls me back up.

"Don't mess up my hair," I tell him.

"I'm thinking of taking you back upstairs so I can mess up a lot more than your hair," he says.  He flicks his tongue over my earlobe and I swat him away.

"You're going to have lipstick all over you, and you know Robyn will kill you," I tell him.  "And my father will kill you if you make us late for their wedding because you're debauching me."

In the car, I swat Gaige's hand away again as it roams my dress.  "You're terrible."

"Are you naked under that dress?" he asks, his voice low in my ear.

"Yes," I say.  "But you have to keep your hands off me until after the wedding."  My father is getting remarried.  His fiancé is wonderful – she's smart and successful, a corporate litigator.  She doesn't take shit from my father – and he's never been happier.  And we're late for their wedding, which is in precisely thirty-three minutes.

"Cruel and unusual punishment," he says.

The wedding is beautiful, small and appropriate for my father's third marriage, just family and friends in a church in downtown Dallas.  Anja is not invited, obviously, and my mother isn't there.  My mother hasn't spoken to any of us since the scandal when Gaige and I first were discovered, even thought the scandal itself faded away pretty quickly.  Gaige was able to get back into racing a month later.  His string of victories on the track brought him an even larger public following.  The scandal still loomed over him somewhat, and even though it was brought up every so often by an over-zealous reporter, Beau and Anja's divorce made it pretty much a moot point.

I hug my father and Robyn before we leave the reception.  "I'm so happy for you both," I say, and before I know it, I'm tearing up.  "I'm sorry," I sniffle, cursing my hormones for making me cry.  "It's just such a beautiful day."

In the limo, Gaige slides his arm around me.  "It's nice to see your father so happy."

"The wedding was beautiful," I say.  And I feel myself tearing up again.

Gaige cups my chin and studies my face.  I flush under his gaze, and I know I need to tell him.  I've just been waiting for the right time.  "I don't think I've ever seen you tear up so much in one day," he says.

"Gaige, I –" I start, but he interrupts me, kissing me lightly on the lips.

"Wait.  I have something to show you."

"I have something I need…"
To tell you
, I want to finish, but before I can, he's pulling me out of the limo.  I almost drop my purse as I walk, but Gaige picks it up and I want to show him what's inside it, but I don't.  "Why are we at my father's house?"

"You have to come with me," he says.  "No questions."

He holds my hand, and one of the staff nods at us as we walk through the hallway.  "Everything is set, Mr. O'Neal."

"What?" I ask.  "What's set?  What are we doing here?"

"No questions," Gaige says softly.  "Just come with me."

He leads me up to the sunroom on the roof, and opens the glass door.  The setting sun bathes the entire room in warm pinks and reds.  Strings of little white lights hang from the roof and down the sides of the glass walls.  The furniture has been cleared away from the middle of the room, everything except for a small table with a white cloth.  And a little eggshell blue box in the middle.

Before I can say anything, Gaige has the box in his hand and he's down on one knee in front of me.  Tears stream down my face as he opens it.  "I loved you before I knew what it even meant to love someone," he says.  "I want you, forever.  Marry me."

I'm saying yes over and over, and Gaige laughs as I pull him to his feet to kiss him.  "Those are good tears, right?"

"Yes, yes, yes," I say.  "They're very good tears."  Then I'm laughing hysterically, and Gaige is looking at me like I'm crazy.

"What did I say?" he asks.

I shake my head.  "It's the hormones," I say.  "I'm a mess.  I was about to tell you in the car, but you had all of – this planned and –"

"Tell me what?" he asks.

I open my purse and hand him my own eggshell blue box, watching his brow furrow.  "Here," I say.  "Open it."

"You got me a ring, too?" he asks.

"No," I say.  "Just open it up."

He slides off the lid and holds the tiny spoon in his hand.  "A silver spoon?"

"They didn't have any rattles," I say.

I watch as his expression changes and a look of realization passes over his face.  "Really?"

"Really."

"You're fucking serious," he says.  "You're pregnant?"

I nod.  "You're happy?"  I ask.  "I can't tell.  Are you happy?"

He scoops me up in his arms, spinning me around until I'm dizzy, before he puts me back down.  "Are you kidding?" he asks.  "I can't believe you're even asking me that.  Am I happy?   We're going to have a baby?  I'm going to be a father?  I'm going to be a dad!"

He yells, and one of the housekeepers pokes her head into the sunroom.  "Is everything okay?"

Gaige walks over to her and hugs her, spinning her around before he kisses her cheek.  "I'm going to be a dad, Marta!"

Then Gaige bounces back to me.  I don't think I've ever seen him so crazy-happy. I didn't think Gaige got crazy-happy.

Gaige kisses me full on the mouth.  "I love you, you know."

There are few things in life I know with certainty, but that much, I definitely know.

THE END

Continue on for the last novel in this collection, Cannon, which has an added bonus epilogue!