HisMarriageBargain (19 page)

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Authors: Sidney Bristol

BOOK: HisMarriageBargain
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“Mom, stop being ridiculous.”

“No.” She sliced her hand through the air. “You stop being
taken in by this Jezebel. I will not have you make this kind of mistake, Son.”

“So
this
was a mistake.” Sammi pushed back from the table.
“Autumn and I clearly should not have come here if this was what you had
planned.”

“Stay where you are, Samuel,” his mother ordered.

“Come on, Autumn.” Sammi wasn’t subjecting her to this.
Neither Autumn nor he deserved this kind of treatment and after Friday, he
wasn’t going to allow her to be a victim again.

They stood and he ushered Autumn from the sunroom.

“Samuel. Samuel!” His mother’s footsteps followed them into
the foyer.

How had things gone so wrong so fast?

Sammi’s head whirled. He knew his mother was old school and
she wouldn’t like any of his choices, but he’d never expected this. Her
intervention was the wrong path to take. He wasn’t going to be strong-armed
into doing what she wanted him to do.

However, he knew if he walked out the front doors now,
things would be changed forever.

“Samuel.” His mother’s voice echoed in the foyer, resounding
off the marble.

Autumn turned to him when he paused.

“Give me a minute with her, okay?” he pleaded. Maybe he
could fix this. He’d known bringing together the two halves of his life
wouldn’t be easy. They were oil and water. But in time maybe they could come to
recognize something good in each other. The goodness he saw.

“Fine. I’ll wait in the car. Give me your keys.”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” He handed her the keys and turned
to his mother.

Abraham was there as well and had his head bent, whispering
with his mother. Sammi watched them for a moment, neither glancing at him.
Finally the rabbi straightened.

“I’ll speak with you later,” he said as he passed Sammi on
his way to the door.

His mother wrung her hands.

“Mom.” Sammi sighed. What did he say? He knew marrying Autumn
wasn’t something that would go over well with the more conservative people in
his life. He’d just been hoping for some measure of civility.

“I need tea.” She pivoted and marched back into the sunroom,
leaving him no choice but to follow her or leave.

She went straight to the tea trolley, glancing over her
shoulder to see if he’d followed. He lowered into one of the armchairs instead of
sitting at the table.

“Mom, staging an intervention isn’t going to work. Autumn
has nothing on me. I asked her to marry me. End of story. You accept that she
is part of my life, or you lose me a little at a time as I have to choose which
of you to spend time with. She’s my wife—”

“And I am your mother.” She turned and handed him a cup of
tea.

“I don’t like this brew.” He wrinkled his nose at the cup.

“Drink. Make your mother happy, Samuel. You owe it to me.
Plus, it’s good for you.”

He grimaced. Drinking a little tea was a small price to pay
for the havoc he’d wrought on her life. He sipped the brew and wrinkled his
nose. It tasted worse than usual, which was disgusting.

She sat across from him, crossing her ankles and folding her
hands in her lap. Everything his mother did was measured and controlled. “That
woman is not good for you. Look at her. All those tattoos! What a horrible
thing to do to yourself.”

“Mom, lots of people have tattoos.”

“Not you. Or me.”

Great.

He rubbed his jaw. “Actually, Mom, I do have tattoos.”

Her jaw went slack and her eyes round. “You do not.”

“I do. And I’ve had them for a while. Not everyone who has
tattoos is a bad person, Mom. We live in a different time now. And I’m married
to Autumn. I hope that in the future you’ll be able to accept that.”

“I can’t do that. I can’t accept that.” She closed her eyes
and shook her head.

“Well, Mom, I’m sorry then.” Sammi tipped the cup back and
downed the rest of the tea. It tasted more bitter than usual going down. He
shook his head and grabbed a sugar cube off the tray to take the taste away.
“I’ll talk to you about this later, but I think it’s best if we leave now.”

“You’re leaving me to be with her?”

Sammi stood and shrugged. “She’s my wife, Mom.”

His mother got to her feet slowly and closed the distance,
her gaze trained on him, something fierce behind her eyes. “She’ll never be
your wife. She is a Gomer. A prostitute. And you are not Hosea, Son.”

Sammi placed the teacup on the trolley and cupped her
shoulders. He knew she loved him, but the manner in which she was acting in the
name of his benefit was doing more harm than good. Still, he was lucky to have
a mother who cared.

“Autumn makes me happy, Mom. Maybe you’ll accept that
someday.”

* * * * *

Autumn peeled the jacket off and tossed it in the backseat
of the Escalade as Sammi pulled out of his mother’s driveway. Her pre-suit-purchase
clothes were balled up in a bag in the floorboard. She itched to be out of this
stupid outfit. Yet again she’d dressed for someone other than herself. Sammi’s
world was too complicated. There was a complete rule book somewhere she wasn’t
allowed to see.

“I’m sorry,” Sammi said after a full ten minutes of silence.

“Don’t worry about it.” She crossed her arms and stared out
the window, feeling more than a little sullen. What had she done to deserve his
mother’s wrath? What had she done wrong?

He made a hard left and the SUV came to a sudden stop.
Autumn grunted and flattened her hand against the dash.

“What the fuck?” she snapped.

Sammi pulled into a parking spot at a carhop. He popped his
seat belt and turned toward her, one hand on the dash, the other on the back of
her seat. “Don’t pull that shit. Be angry. Get pissed off.”

Autumn rolled her eyes. “Why? What’s the use? What good will
it do to get angry at your mother for being like every other old, judgmental
woman that sees me? I’ve heard everything she has to say about me and worse.
Spending time being pissed off and angry about it does me no good. It just
means that bitches like her win.”

For several moments they stared at each other, the sound of
country western music seeping into the car from the speakers mounted on the
exterior of the Sonic carhop. Sammi’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed his face.

“I didn’t think she’d react that way.”

“I understand what she’s thinking. I know what people see
when they look at me. Big, fake tits, lots of tattoos, a giggly, bubbly
personality. I’m not stupid.” She stared into his eyes, hoping he understood
the way she did. “I know people think I’m a whore or a prostitute or a porn
star, but I’m not. And what matters is that I know it. I’m never going to be
happy being anyone except who I am. Bad decisions, baggage and all. Your mom
can hate me, but that’s on her.

“I guess what I really don’t like about this weekend is that
I didn’t go into these situations as me. I went as this weird, sterilized
version of who you could be married to. I’m not Julia Roberts. This isn’t
Pretty
Woman
. You can’t dress me up and change who I am.”

Sammi blew out a breath and reached for her hand. They
linked fingers, his thumb swiping across her palm. “I didn’t think of it that
way. I don’t want you to be anyone except who you are. I just want us to have
fun. Be happy.”

“I know.”

He leaned across the center console and kissed her sweetly.
She sighed and kissed him back. To know she had his support meant the world.
His hand cupped her cheek, guiding her face to the perfect angle. Whatever he
wanted, she was ready to give it. Her body, her heart, it was all his.

“Is it totally wrong that you turn me on right now?” he
whispered.

“I’m not going to complain.” She giggled and squeezed his
thigh.

“Okay, okay. How about we get some food and figure out a
better way to spend the last few hours of our weekend?”

Autumn grinned. Oh, did she have some ideas. “I’d like an
order of sex with a side of orgasm, please.”

Sammi froze, staring at her. “I was thinking furniture
shopping, but I like your idea better.”

“Can we do both at once?”

“I don’t know, but I’m game to try.”

* * * * *

Sammi plopped down in a plush armchair and sighed. This
shopping trip had a serious lack of sex, but so far they’d picked out a dining
room set, an office suite and now were on to additional den and living room
furniture. In the span of about an hour they’d dropped close to ten grand and he
couldn’t think of anything better to spend it on.

Plus, he’d gotten to watch Autumn bounce around testing how
comfortable everything was.

“What’s this chair’s fuck factor?” he asked. She’d claimed
all furniture needed to be rated on how useful it was for sex on a scale of one
to five.

“Recliners are a one.” She wrinkled her nose.

“A one? Whatever. This is a great chair for cowgirl.” Naked,
her boobs bouncing. It was a great idea.

“Yeah, if I’m doing all the work.” She rolled her eyes.
“You’re so sunk in there that you’ll get no thrust and I’d just be bouncing
around, doing it all on my own.”

The visual sounded damn hot to him.

Sammi popped the lever and the footrest rose. “Prove it.”

Autumn cocked her head to one side, one brow lifted as if to
say, “Really?”

She glanced around. They were in a far-flung corner of a
warehouse store and hadn’t seen another human for a quarter of an hour. Then
again, Sammi wasn’t very concerned about being caught at this point.

Autumn strutted toward him in the manner of the seductress,
one foot in front of the other, an extra sway to her hips. The way she stared
at him was predatory, but if she was the hunter, he might not mind being
caught.

She stopped at the armrest and pulled the elastic band out
of her hair, shaking her head until it tumbled down her back in curling waves.
Her hair was fantastic. He waited, curious how she’d prove him wrong. She
tugged her navy skirt to her upper thighs and straddled his lap. Somehow there was
just enough room to accommodate both of them.

“Did you just tell me to prove it?” Her voice was low,
seductive.

He leaned forward. “I did.”

Her lips curled up in a naughty smile. She placed her hands
on the back of the recliner and ground her pelvis against his.

“Mm.” His eyes drifted closed as she stroked him with her
body. It felt too good for her to stop just yet.

“See, you’re really at my mercy. Can’t do much about it, can
you?”

“Why would I want to?”

Autumn chuckled. He could feel her hands stroking the front
of his trousers, and the next thing he knew she had him skin on skin. He gasped
and dug his fingers into the armrest.

“Autumn—”

“You dared me. The more you protest the longer this’ll take
and maybe we’ll get caught.” Judging by the twinkle in her eye, he didn’t think
she’d mind one bit.

And maybe he didn’t either. It wasn’t as though years from
now it would be something that would come back to bite him in the ass. Speaking
of asses, he slid his hands up the backs of her thighs to caress the muscular
globes.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you?” She
worked his pants down his hips, freeing his cock and caressing his balls.

“Shit, fuck me, yes. Wallet. Back pocket.” He lifted a
little and she dug under him for the folded leather. Sammi tore it from her
hands and yanked the packet out.

“Someone could be watching us on camera,” Autumn said
quietly, watching his face intently.

The uncertainty sent a thrill of excitement through him.
This was wrong, taboo even, but not knowing somehow made it more of a thrill.
He ripped open the condom packet and pushed her hands aside to roll it on.

“I don’t care.”

“So should I go slow?” Autumn’s smile spread and her dimples
winked at him.

“Sunshine, do whatever it takes to prove to me this chair is
a bad idea.” He grinned back, already knowing he was buying this chair. No one
else would sit in this pleasure seat.

“Oh, someone’s being ballsy.” She tossed her hair and
shifted, rising above him with one hand on the back of the chair.

Despite his bravado, he knew this coupling needed to be
quick. He grasped his dick and passed it through her folds. Autumn’s head
rolled back on her shoulders and she hummed. Sex with her would never get old.

Autumn wrapped her hand around his wrist and guided him to
her entrance.

“Are you watching?” Her voice was breathy, aroused.

“Hell yes.” The sight of his cock kissing her pussy was
enough to get his rocks off, the feel of her sinking onto him even better.

They groaned in unison as she took all of him in one gentle
glide. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his chest and rolling
her hips.

“Damn,” he groaned.

He massaged her breasts through her clothes, finding the
hard barbell piercings and swiping his thumbs over them.

“Mm, that feels good,” she muttered.

Autumn began a steady, driving rhythm, pistoning up and down
on his cock. Her lower lip was captured between her teeth, her breath hissing
out.

Sammi gripped the armrests, thrusting slightly with her. She
had a point—the recliner hindered his movement, but it didn’t seem to hinder
hers. He wanted her breasts in his palms, the round globes overflowing his
hands, free to suck the turgid peaks.

“Autumn. You’ve got to come, baby.” He grasped her ass with
one hand, digging in his fingers.

She leaned forward, changing the angle and burying her face
into the back of the recliner. The little noises she made during sex were
muted, but this close he recognized all the signs. He reached between them and
found the piercing. Once, twice was all he needed to tweak it before he felt the
clamping down of her inner muscles. Her motions stuttered to a halt as she
froze.

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