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Christa
Staring at my best friend, I just smirk.
“What?” Taryn asks. “Answer the question.”
I clear my throat and pick up another heart-shaped piece of wood, placing a small votive candle in the center. “Do you really want to know? I ask, as I glue on the Carter & Taryn premade tag, and the tiny bunch of colorful flowers for her wedding favors.
She shrugs and then looks at me with her amber-colored eyes. She’s since cut her light-brown hair and it sits in a cute wolf haircut with bangs. It absolutely suits her. “I mean, it’s a yes or no question. I don’t need graphic details.” She makes a gagging noise.
I chuckle. “The answer is yes.”
Her eyes go wide. “Really? How was it?”
I purse my lips. “I thought you didn’t want details.”
“Generalize.”
“It was good. No, it was great. I didn’t think he’d last as long as he did after how long he’s been... away.”
“Ew. Maybe he hooked up with someone else before you. You know, right after he got out.”
“Not sure, none of my business, and I won’t ask him because I don’t care. I mean, who could blame the guy if he did?”
She puts her hands up. “Not me.”
I pull another wooden heart out of the basket and go to work. “Has he... mentioned me or asked things about me?”
“No, but don’t take it the wrong way. We don’t talk about that stuff, and not to mention, I’ve been so busy wedding planning that it’s pretty much consumed me. When I’m married and bored, I’m sure I’ll be all about that nosy, gossipy life.”
“Bitch, you already are about that life,” I say with a chuckle, shaking my head.
She giggles. “Okay, you’re right.”
We finish the rest of the wedding favors and then head out to the dress shop for a fitting.
***
“Oh, my God, you look breathtaking,” I murmur as Taryn does a little twirl. The pure-white fitted satin gown is very minimal and suits my best friend. A simple veil on top of her head complements the dress well.
She looks down at herself. “You think?”
“Absolutely, babe.”
“Yours fits perfect, too,” she says, gesturing to the black fitted silky dress with the spaghetti straps. It hugs my curves and is so simple and elegant. Even I’m getting butterflies looking at the two of us in the mirror. She must be downright giddy.
“Carter’s gonna have his breath stolen when you walk down that aisle, girl,” I comment, adjusting the veil so it’s perfect.
“You think?” she asks, hope shining in her eyes.
“Of course,” I assure her.
I am, of course, a little jealous. I hope my time will come, and I hope it’s with her brother. After last night, he’s all I can think about. I’m deliciously sore where he plowed into me over and over, making me lose count of the orgasms. He’d gone down on me twice more, his tongue a magical entity all on its own. He said he’d call me today, and I’ve yet to hear from him, but I refuse to get all clingy and obsessive. He’ll call when he’s ready. I notice he likes to talk on the phone more than texting, and I’m sure I can figure out why. I won’t sit and analyze that right now, though, as this day is Taryn’s.
After we change back into our clothes, the dress shop attendant takes our dresses and tells us she’ll see us in a few weeks for another fitting.
“I need food,” she says.
“Of course,” I reply. “Chinese?”
“Heck yes,” she answers.
I’m secretly glad I’m her only wedding attendant. The affair itself isn’t planned to be grandiose by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s not small and intimate either. But they each only wanted Eric and me to stand up for them, and I’m selfishly grateful for that. They both have other friends but wanted to keep it simple.
Over lunch, we chat about last-minute things, the bachelorette party, and how excited she is for her honeymoon in Bora Bora. I’m thoroughly jealous and am brought back to my fantasy of having Eric fuck me on the balcony of some tropical locale while we stare into each other’s eyes, so in love.
A wistful sigh I didn’t mean to expel slips out, and Taryn gives me a confused look.
“What?” I ask.
“What was that for?” she asks.
I debate telling her how I’m feeling, and because it’s not fair to her, I opt for something not quite the truth but not a lie, either. “Just so happy for you, and hope I’m next.”
She immediately squeezes my hand. “You will be. If not Eric, someone else.”
But I don’t want anyone else. Four weeks of dating and I already know he’s “the one”—but I won’t tell her that. I can’t risk her telling her brother my feelings and fantasies, so for now, I keep them to myself.
My phone dings and I tap the screen to see a text preview on the locked screen.
Eric: WYD?
I frown at the greeting, but tell myself to stop it. At least he contacted me.
“What’s wrong?” Taryn asks at my expression.
“Your brother sucks at texting.” I show her the screen.
She laughs. “I can’t believe he’s using text slang. I guess he’s trying. He rarely texted before... you know.” She looks around as if anyone in the restaurant gives a crap that her brother’s a convict. “So, consider it an upgrade.”
I laugh. “Okay, if you say so. I don’t mind talking on the phone. His voice is soooo sexy.”
She drops her chopsticks and says, “Stop it.”
We both burst out laughing. But it’s true. It’s deep, and sinful, and when he whispers in my ear, my panties are punished with a flood. I keep that to myself, though.
I decide to reply to his text anyway.
Me: Lunch w/your sis.
After lunch, we say our goodbyes, and each head home. It’s Saturday night and she and Carter are going out for dinner to can discuss wedding stuff.
My phone rings as soon as I get inside my little house and close the door. I smile when I see Eric calling. “Hello, sexy.”
“Well, hello, sexy yourself,” he replies in that sinful voice of his.
My nipples harden, which is a common occurrence when I hear him or see him. “What are you up to?”
I glance at the clock to see it’s nearing 5 p.m.
“Worked out, played some hoops with a few guys, grabbed a wrap for lunch. How was your day with Taryn? Get your wedding stuff done?”
We chat like this for a few minutes, and he’s being so sweet I can’t stand it. I usually go for the bad boys—and admittedly I assumed he was one, my bad—but this sweetness is winning me over too.
“You got plans tonight?” I ask casually.
“Not really. You?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Why don’t you come over and I’ll cook for you?”
“That sounds amazing, gorgeous. What time?”
“How about seven? I have the perfect meal in mind and I need to pop to the store real fast for a couple things.”
“Want me to pick them up on my way and we can make it earlier?” he asks, hopeful.
Melt.
With a little chuckle, I reply, “No, it’s okay. I got this. See you at seven.”
“You got it,” he replies.
I end the call, grab my purse from where I’d dropped it on the entryway table, and get back in my car, excited for the night.
***
Eric leans back in the dining room chair and puts his hand on his belly. “Dammit, woman. I went way over my calories for the day. But it was worth it.”
I smirk at his empty plate, proud he loved it.
Anything’s better than prison food...
Shut up, Christa!
“I have dessert for later, too,” I comment. “Since you’re already over your calories for the day, anyway. Not that I think you need to count calories.”
He chuckles. “Oh, yes, I do. I’d be a big chubby guy if I didn’t.”
I shrug. “Nothing wrong with a big teddy bear to lay down with at night.”
His smile falters as he stares at me. “Seriously?”
“Sure, why not? How someone treats you is more important than looks, not that I would be turned off if you were a little pudgy.” My gaze roams from his face to his chest, to his lap, then back up. “Not that you are anything close.”
Unlike me, I want to say, but don’t because guys hate that shit.
He chuckles. “Well, thank you, gorgeous.” He gets up and pulls me to stand. “I love your sexy body,” he whispers.
A chill causes goosebumps to pepper my skin. “I’m glad you like it.”
I’ve always been so self-conscious about my body. I have those thick Latina hips and ass, passed down to me by my father’s side of the family—not that my White mother was a skinny thing. Thick hips as well, which my dad likes to remind everyone almost nauseatingly as to why he married her.
“I want to see it,” he murmurs in my ear, nipping my earlobe with his teeth, causing a shudder to ripple down my spine.
“You sure you don’t want to chill for a bit, let our food settle?” I gesture lazily to the couch, my panties already soaked, making a liar out of me at that suggestion.
“Sexercise is better,” he whispers in my ear, and I’m about to go nuclear with desire.
“You’re right,” I agree, grabbing his hand and dragging him to my bedroom.
We tear each other’s clothes off, but then slow down. I’m disappointed at first, but begin to love the delicious buildup. After a lot of kissing and touching, he puts on protection and then slides into me, and we roll slowly together, kissing and touching.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says in my ear through lazy thrusts.
I want to tell him I’m in love with him but I won’t. It’s way too early and I don’t want to scare him, but I already know this. It’s crazy and insane but this right here is the best feeling in the world.
He slides an arm under my shoulders and begins to quicken his pace, my legs spread wide to accommodate his hips and huge dick that fits perfectly inside me.
“God, you feel so good, Christa,” he murmurs, causing a climax to roll through me and me to whimper.
He stares down at me as we lock eyes. Then, he stiffens, groaning as he closes his eyes and comes inside me. I wish we didn’t have the condom between us and make a mental note to get on some kind of contraception so it won’t have to be.
After he rolls off and discards the condom, he holds me in his arms and we talk a little bit, before he kisses my forehead and we fall asleep together.
My heart is full. And I hope his is, too.