Raw & Bound

Literotic asexstories – Raw & Bound by secretsxywriter,secretsxywriter
This is a longtime coming; a story that’s been in my head for years. If you haven’t read “Raw” and “Raw & Broken” yet, you’ll want to, as this story concludes the series. If you need a refresher on the introduction to Ginger and Darryl, re-read “Raw Ch. 09.”

~ SSW

~~~

Everything happens for a reason. Which is why I hadn’t second-guessed how that weekend in Toronto, Canada, had turned out six years ago.

—

“There will be hot guys!”

Ashley and Mindy, my two roommates, had said that at least five times after I reluctantly showed them the posting online for the BDSM convention and the “Velvet Rope Exhibition.” I’d actually been wanting to go to it ever since I’d seen postings and photos about the previous year’s function on a fetish website I belonged to. I’d also heard conversations about the various demonstration sessions at the munches I’d been to over the past several months.

I’d been waffling on telling the girls about the conference at all since they weren’t really into BDSM. They just liked having profiles on the fetish website to post sexy photos…to get attention. But after the cost of the entry ticket, I would have only been able to afford the hotel room if we split it three ways. Thankfully, they were on board.

At least until we got there.

We arrived early on Friday, the first day of the convention, and started with the main ballroom where all of the vendors were set up. Not surprisingly, the girls lost interest within less than an hour. Their expectation had turned out to be true: there were plenty of hot guys. They just weren’t looking to hook up.

I don’t know where the girls had gotten the idea that there would be play parties that weekend. It wasn’t mentioned at all on the event announcement. But that’s what they complained about ever since we’d checked in and gotten the itinerary for the weekend. They rolled their eyes when I reminded them that this was not an orgy but a convention with classes for those with kinky predilections.

After they made fun of just about every vendor we passed—not to mention gotten us glares from several sellers—I was ready to tell them to just forget it and I’d refund their money if they wanted to go home. Before I could mention it, they decided to go swimming.

I went on in peace, attending some of the demos and browsing the booths to see what piqued my interest.

It was midafternoon when I saw her. I second-guessed myself for only a moment. There was no doubt, though. She looked just like the photo on the back of her earlier books; in the article about her revealing herself to be Drake Alexander; and on the news story when she had gotten away from the man who had kidnapped her.

But…

Could Rebecca Rockland—my favorite writer—really be at a BDSM convention? In Canada?

She was standing with a tall, handsome man at a booth selling chains. I overheard her speaking with the burly man on the other side of the table, but the noise level in the room made it impossible to make out anything clearly.

Still, she was here. I was here. If nothing else happened this weekend, it was well worth putting up with my roommates to even catch a glimpse of Rebecca in person.

Once it was no longer possible to remain inconspicuous while observing her, I moved on with the crowd. I spent the rest of the afternoon perusing the vendors. Smiling every time I caught a glimpse of her.

That evening, the girls decided to join me for the erotic art exhibition. I begged them to behave. To dress appropriately for a vanilla setting as though out in public, per the convention rules. But they insisted on wearing their matching school-girl outfits. I told them they looked like they were ready to step out onto a porn set. They only said that was the look they were going for.

I managed to get ahead of them in line and met up with them inside. I’d noticed that every other woman was wearing an evening dress—some shorter than others, but all were modest. God only knows how my roommates were able to gain entrance into the exhibit in their skimpy attire.

My cheeks blushed as red as my hair while they kept up their earlier shenanigans, ridiculing each piece of art—even the live models—while we walked through the various stations that had been set up. At least two burly guys stationed as security guards had been eyeing our small group from the get-go. I prayed that I wouldn’t be accused of being guilty by association.

Everything changed, though, when we stopped at a Greek-style pillar with a rope-and-metal sculpture on top. I did another double-take when I saw Rebecca standing by a display depicting rope suspension. My roommates had not believed me earlier when I’d said she was here. Even after I repeated all the hype with Rebecca in the news about revealing she was really Drake and then being kidnapped and tortured by a past lover, Ashley and Mindy doubted me. I wish I had one of her older books to show them.

A low, whispered argument ensued until Rebecca actually approached us and the girls drifted away. Leaving me all alone with my idol. Face to face.

I was mesmerized. Speechless. Both weak-kneed and stiff as a board. I’d never met a Hollywood celebrity, but I could imagine it would feel the same.

The whole time Rebecca talked to me, I was riveted to every little detail. How she spoke. Stood. Dressed. I was actually talking to my idol! About kinky sex! Surrounded by kinky art!

Wait, did she just invite me to have breakfast with her in the morning? To hang out with her and Malcolm, the man she was with, for the rest of the exhibit? And their friend Darryl, the chain seller?

I was as giddy as a school girl…sans outfit.

—

If that encounter had not happened—if I’d not encouraged my roommates to drive the four hours from our hometown in Ottawa to attend the conference with me in the first place so I could afford to go—I wouldn’t be where I was now. Be with who I was now.

I smiled warmly at Darryl, my fiancé, while he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music.

He let out a soft laugh, dancing in his seat. Doing a little sway to the left and a twist to the right, glancing at me with a grin between mouthing the lyrics. Then he twisted and swayed in reverse, returning his attention to the road. Which only made me giggle louder. He shot me another grin before I looked out my window.

My smile widened while watching the water rolling under the twin suspension bridge as we crossed the bay in Delaware.

Becca and Malcolm had left the hotel just in time that weekend. Us three girls had been snowed in at the hotel. My roommates had decided to go swimming again to pass the time, and I’d found Darryl downstairs having breakfast when I’d gone meandering. He’d invited me to join him. Since his flight back to Maine wasn’t until Monday, we’d hung out the rest of the day in the business lounge, just chatting.

When I’d started to close up again, he’d quickly coaxed me back out of my shell. To talk about my interest in the lifestyle. He’d encouraged me to not let my fears of not fitting in deter me from attending events or learning more about those topics. He’d assured me that I wasn’t just going through a phase. He could see I was a true submissive; I’d just not explored all that I could be yet. I needed a good dominant partner to help me do that. Attending local events was a step in the right direction, especially if I wanted opportunities to meet such a partner.

When it had been time to go our separate ways, he’d surprised me by giving me a business card and telling me to call him the next weekend if I wanted…that he’d like to accompany me to a local munch he knew of in Montreal. It would help quell my fears of going alone and not knowing anyone there. He knew the hosts, and he’d be happy to introduce me to them.

I’d protested that it was at least a 6-hour drive for him from Maine, but I’d not regretted taking him up on the offer.

Two weeks later, I’d attended my first rope demo with a play party afterwards. Darryl had gone as my surrogate Dom. He’d said my first bondage and suspension experience should be done by someone I trusted, as well as someone knowledgeable on the subject. Who better than himself? While he sold chains as a side business and enjoyed rigging with the chains, he was quite experienced in rope bondage. In fact, he preferred it since it was more versatile.

I still got shivers whenever I thought of the care with which he’d spent binding me with jute rope that first time. How he’d constantly made sure I was comfortable. The liftoff had been a bit scary, but the floating in air had been totally exhilarating. And afterwards? He’d held me, gently caressing wherever the rope had bit into my skin. He’d whispered encouragements in my ear as I’d drifted back to reality. Called me a rope bunny. Said I was so natural with being bound. And watching me enter subspace—that place of bliss where I’d felt calm and yet highly aroused—had been a delight to witness. That I had slipped into that space so easily.

One party had turned into two, then three and four. Afterwards, he’d always crash on my couch. Such a gentleman. My roommates would snicker and tease me that I was being a Miss Goody Two-shoes. I always told them to fuck off. At least I had a guy to hang out with. A guy who was becoming a good friend. Nothing more, I told myself. Play partners, he’d called it once. Nothing intentionally intimate happened beyond the occasional brush of a hand here or there while tying the rope.

Each time he left, though, a part of me ached inside. I grew anxious for his next visit. For our next party. Anything that would allow us to spend more time together. I was becoming attached to the short, burly personal trainer who liked to suspend people with ropes and chains for fun.

We’d never really discussed dating. I’d figured it was a longshot with the miles between us, not to mention residing in different countries. He had dual citizenship having lived in Canada for several years with his family before moving back to the states after college, but I didn’t even know if he felt the same way I did. At least, not until that weekend my roommates were gone and we’d had the apartment all to ourselves after a party.

***

I made a quick descent from the front porch of the host’s house and stumbled halfway down. I gripped the railing for a moment, righting myself. The cold metal did little to quell the zinging feelings still racing through my body.

“You okay?” Darryl’s hand pressed lightly to my lower back.

“Yep.”

“I’m sure we could have stayed longer to let you come down more.”

We’d not gotten as much time to play as usual due to the larger-than-normal crowd. There had been a lot of newbies tonight, and I’d had to wait until last to get bound and suspended. Darryl had insisted on the scene since he’d come all this way. But the brevity of it had left me on the edge of subspace, not to mention the noise from the others saying their goodbyes had messed with my attempts to tune everything out. Too soon, I was being let down and unwound from the ropes. Getting dressed. I didn’t really want to go home, I just wanted to get out of there.

My legs felt like Jell-O when I stepped onto the sidewalk, so I paused, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Ginger?”

“I’m fine.” I waved him off and continued on, feeling a little more sure but no less frustrated.

His footsteps sounded softly behind me.

I was a few feet from my car when he put his hand on my arm. I turned to face him and snarled, “What, Darryl?”

He frowned at me and dropped his hand. “I know you like driving because you’re familiar with the area, but you’re in no shape tonight.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” I lowered my gaze and noticed his upturned palm between us.

When I still didn’t move, he beckoned with his fingers. “Give me the keys.”

Reluctantly, I fished them out of my purse and held them by the ring several inches above his palm. I locked eyes with him for a moment. As his mouth pursed into a straight line, I released the ring. And smirked.

There was a soft growl as he caught the keys mid-air. But instead of stepping around to reach the car, he stood still, watching me.

The streetlight beside us made his eyes glisten in the shadows. Something in his stare made me swallow heavily. I’d seen a glimpse of his darkness every time we played. How he seemed to zone out and go to his own Domspace. I knew he was always aware of what was going on with me, but I imagined that like in my mind, no one else seemed to exist during that time.

This? This was different.

And it intrigued me because I felt something stirring deep within. I wanted to explore it but wasn’t sure how…or if I should. I mean, he was such a good friend. I didn’t want to ruin it.

He stepped forward suddenly, and I found myself taking a step back. His gaze dropped for a moment—his lips curling up—then he was staring back into my eyes. We both took another step. And another.

I gasped when my back hit the passenger door. There was nowhere else for me to go, but he kept advancing two more steps, closing the gap between us.

My heart was pounding in my chest. Breathing had become difficult. Faster, shallower. I licked my lips and heard him growl again.

“You are being a brat.”

I gulped. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I love it.” His voice was gruff, adding to his feral look.

I was grateful for the hard metal supporting my back because my knees buckled as I whimpered.

He gently tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. Then he leaned down, his mouth so close that I could feel his breath caress my lips.

I inhaled sharply. How many times had I daydreamed about his hands holding my head steady while he claimed my mouth? Or intentionally caressing my skin, not to just rub away rope marks?

“Kiss me.”

My eyes flashed up to his again in surprise, tilting my chin up in the process. It was just enough to cause my lips to brush his. By the time the synapses finally kicked into gear in my brain at what was happening, he had pulled back.

“You call that a kiss, Ginger?” he growled, grinning.

Before I could answer, his body pressed mine against the car while his hands slid up into my hair, tilting my head back further. Just like I’d dreamed he would. Then his lips were drawing whimpers from my mouth while I clutched at his arms. Loving the feeling of his beard grazing my skin.

It was over before it seemed to have begun. He ushered me to the side and opened the door. I was still in a daze as I sat on the wrong side of my own car while he drove us back to my apartment.

The front door had barely closed before he clasped my hand in his and hurried us down the hall through the darkness. Once we were in my bedroom with the door closed, I expected him to pick right back up where we’d left off. But he dropped my hand.

A moment later, the light came on. Darryl was now standing several feet away.

His icy blue gaze slowly raked up and down my body.

Men had undressed me with their eyes before. It had felt dirty then. Invasive.

With him… I almost didn’t want him to stop. Almost. Because I remembered that fateful kiss.

It had started to unravel my soul. I wanted him to tug on that string again with more than just a look. To make me fall apart.

He stepped towards me.

I automatically stepped back, feeling butterflies in my belly. This was what I wanted, right?

He paused and titled his head.

When he advanced two more steps, I retreated in turn. A grin curled the corners of his lips as we did that same little dance thrice more. He was the epitome of a lion hunting its prey. Then he simply said, “Stop.”

I obeyed. My lower lip trembled from arousal. When he stepped forward once more, I remained in place, though not without effort. His grin was utterly devastating surrounded by his dark chin-strap beard. That inner flutter was a full-blown whirlwind now, and it made my breathing erratic.

“I want you,” he growled, stopping a mere twelve inches away from me. “I’ve wanted you ever since that morning after the exhibition. You looked so coy and innocent at breakfast. Your emerald eyes full of life. I wanted to take you upstairs and devour you instead. But…”

My arousal faded a bit. “But? That can’t be good.”

He slowly shook his head and slid a hand around my back, closing the gap a bit more. His other hand rested on my hip. “Quite the contrary. I’m sorry if my silence has caused you any distress. It wasn’t my intention. I acted on impulse with the kiss. I’d wanted to do it many times before but always held back. What if you didn’t feel the same way?”

I bit my lower lip and smiled at that because he now knew I did.

His own flash of a grin stirred delicious feelings inside me again. “Tonight, I threw caution to the wind. It ignited something I’ve long ago buried. I was gung-ho to pursue it. But once I started driving us here…my thoughts went elsewhere.”

The proximity of his arms drew my fingers like a magnet, causing the sensitive tips to skate over his warm skin. That internal whirlwind evolved into glowing embers.

“I got lost in the past for a moment.” His gravelly voice was so damn sexy.

I gulped and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” The hand at my waist tightened and drew me against his hard body.

“Forgiven,” I whispered, licking my lips.

“Thank you.” His eyes turned darker. “You were so enamored with Becca. I teased her…called you her pet. The more time you spent with us, the more I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at her.”

I remembered that Sunday when we were first alone. When we talked about all things kink and he’d said I needed to find a good dominant partner. How I’d hoped I’d find someone like him to fill that role for me in the lifestyle. I’d never dreamed it would be Darryl himself.

“The first time I rigged you, you did look at me that way.” He let out a little growl, as if remembering the moment. “I chalked it up to being a newbie rope bunny. Enthralled with the bondage. But these past few months, I’ve gotten that look every time we meet. I’ve earned your trust. Your patience. Your friendship. I’m greedy, though. I want more, Ginger. Please.”

“Tell me what you want,” I said, my own voice husky now and my heart beating faster as the embers grew to flickers.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and stroked the back of his fingers down my cheek. “I want to make love to you.”

I shivered, licking my lower lip. Was this finally happening? When his eyes locked on mine and his head tilted in question, I nodded. “Yes. Please.”

He walked backward, leading the way to my bed. “I’m going to dominate you in the most basic and carnal of ways.”

Words failed me momentarily. My brain was too busy shooting a message straight to my pussy that she was going to get exactly what she had wished for.

“Do you want that?”

“Uh huh.” The sound came out all breathy as he’d laid down beside me and propped himself up on one forearm.

His gaze slowly dropped. Caressing my body without a single touch. Then his eyes returned to mine.

For several long seconds, we just stared into each other’s eyes, our breaths quickening.

He finally leaned closer and whispered, “Kiss me, Ginger.”

This time, I had enough sense to reach up and pull his head down. To hold it there while our lips met and mashed. He rolled fully on top, allowing me to deepen the kiss. I loved the feeling of his weight on my body. One of his hands alternated between stroking my hip and thigh while the other tangled in my hair. Mine clung to the back of his arm and his neck, tethering myself to him.

At some point, I realized I was no longer kissing him but he’d taken over. I followed his lead, enjoying his touch. Stroking my fingertips up and down his arms, submitting to his will. It seemed to come naturally for us both.

He took his time arousing me even more with his kisses. I moaned in approval, and he switched to nipping and licking my lips. His tongue delved into my mouth when I opened for him. Like gravity’s pull, we sunk deeper into each other.

I gasped when he slid his free hand under my shirt. Everywhere he touched sent electric sparks right to my pussy. Whether it be my sides, belly, or breasts through my bra. I angled my body under him, encouraging him.

Our heavy breathing combined. Then mine intensified because his free hand slid between my legs and rubbed against my mound though my jeans. I was slightly delirious when he moved his mouth to nuzzle my neck. His hands returned to play under my shirt and in my hair, making me whimper.

I couldn’t decide where I wanted him to touch me. Each spot he found then abandoned screamed for more attention all at once.

Cool air suddenly brushed against my belly. His head was in the way, but I could tell he’d pushed my shirt up. A second later, he was burying his face in my cleavage.

I lie in awe at the way he nuzzled, nipped, and licked my skin there while his hand stroked my mound again. A gurgle slipped out when he nudged my cup down with his mouth and drew my nipple between his lips, sucking gently.

When I reached out blindly to touch him, he grasped both of my wrists together, shoved them above my head, and held them to the bed with one hand. “Darryl!”

He glanced up at me and grinned wickedly. “Ginger.”

His eyes still on mine, he flicked my nipple with his tongue, making me moan softly. When his teeth closed around the tender point and tugged, I cried out.

He moaned himself, sucking gently, and then proceeded to bite me again…harder.

I bit my lower lip and rode out the pain he’d caused until it started to ease. When he kissed and licked the tip to soothe it more, I closed my eyes and drifted on the edge of what I knew was subspace, though I’d never experienced it this way before.

“It’s okay.” His voice vibrated against my chest. “Go ahead and fall. I’ll be here to catch you.”

I mumbled my thanks and let my head loll to my shoulder as my mind relaxed. My body quickly followed. The pressure of his hand on my wrists…the weight of his chest and legs on my lower extremities. They made me feel safe. Protected.

He continued the sweet torture on my breast—eventually switching to the other one and then alternating between them. His hand in my hair tightened into a fist and gently tugged my head back whenever he bit down. Then he’d release his grip, caressing with fingers on my head and mouth on my breast before starting over after my cries subsided.

Through the haze clouding my brain, I felt his leg wedge between mine when he adjusted his body again. I wiggled my hips until his thigh was where I wanted, and then I rotated my hips against him.

“Are you trying to top me?” he said, pulling his knee back.

I whimpered under him, my lower body trying to find him without success. “Please!”

“You want to hump me?” he chuckled. “You want this?”

I cooed when he pressed his thigh to my throbbing pussy. “Yes, please!”

“Then hump me, girl,” he growled in my ear.

I arched against him harder. Moved faster. Something in my addled brain told me I probably looked like a wild animal in rut, but I didn’t care. I only sought relief.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his fingers sliding out of my hair. They stroked down my neck and came to rest around my bared breast. His rough squeezes there—his hot breath and moans against my cheek—encouraged me until I screamed from abandon.

Lost to subspace, I floated, feeling him release my hands. He kissed me softly and held my head to his shoulder where he brushed his fingers through my hair.

When I began to shake and cry softly, he pulled me closer. His touch lowered to stroke my back, calming me while he repeated, “Shh, it’s okay,” against my hair.

I nuzzled closer and breathed in his musky scent. Grounding myself in something familiar.

He waited until I started to moan and writhe against his body as I came back down to him before he removed our clothes. Then he was cuddling me to him again, now skin to skin. It reinvigorated my arousal. Wiped away the vestiges of space webs in my brain.

Our kisses were more feverish, our hands bolder as we explored each other’s bodies.

Eventually, he rolled me onto my back again and propped himself up on one forearm. He gave me one tender kiss before pulling back to sit up more.

I’d seen him without a shirt at the play parties. Had admired his ink on numerous occasions. But this was the first time I was staring up at it. Able to appreciate it for my own personal viewing pleasure.

Starting at the inside of his left hand was a strand of black rope encircling his wrist. It wrapped around his forearm, bicep, and shoulder before it curved toward his chest where it ended on the outside of his pec with a Celtic knot. On his right was a mirror image except it was made from a black chain ending in a carabiner clip.

Between the two was a monochromatic lion’s head—eyes sinister and intense in a pop of icy blue matching its master’s; the mane fanning out below Darryl’s collarbone down to just above his belly button; the mouth closed.

As Darryl breathed, so did the lion. Both patiently waiting. But as I stared into the former’s eyes, I held my breath. I’d felt him move his other hand. I anticipated his touch and let my eyes flutter closed as his fingers stroked over my now-bare mound. Then he gently pressed lower.

“So hot, Ginger. So wet,” he whispered and leaned over, kissing me again. “Open your legs for me. That’s a good girl. Oh, yes.”

My arm snaked around his neck and gripped him tight, my breaths shaky while he stroked with more intent. The side of his finger repeatedly brushed my clit, making me hiss and him chuckle.

“Does that feel good, beautiful?”

A sound of approval gurgled in the back of my throat. He switched to just his thumb strumming directly over my clit. I was so close. So close!

But he was having none of it. He returned to using his first two fingers, spreading my lips apart and stroking up the entire length of me while avoiding my clit. Teasing me. Ignoring my whimpers and the way my hips danced helplessly.

“Demanding, aren’t you?”

I grunted, glaring up at him. Or at least I attempted to, not really seeing him through my unfocused, lust-filled gaze. It probably looked comical. Whatever he saw, though, worked.

“Okay, okay. Enough torture for us both.”

I gasped when he finally slid a finger up inside me, stroking within now. Making me coo.

He added a second finger, teasing my lips above with his teeth and tongue. The build-up took longer this time despite the aid of his thumb on my sensitive nub. It felt amazing. But I wanted more. Needed more.

When I rocked my hips against his wrist, I earned another whispered, “Good girl.”

I had been skating my own fingers up and down his arm braced beside me. Languidly letting my body ride the new wave of pleasure. But when his hand shifted below—his fingertips circling just the ridged ring of my entrance—I cried out and dug my nails into his taut bicep, arching hard.

“Oh, yes…” His husky voice coaxed me higher. “Right there?”

My response was a mumble of affirmations and moans.

Just when I thought he was going to let me come again, he withdrew. But he quickly moved on top, one hand behind my neck while he guided the tip of his cock up and down my pussy before positioning it at that tight ring. With his free hand now wedged beneath my ass, lifting me up, our eyes met, and he finally entered me.

We shared a shaky sigh and groan of mixed relief and pleasure. Then he watched me as he pressed further inside, apparently capturing the way my face contorted with the new sensations he created.

I stared up at him blankly. Tremors rippled through me, causing my hands to shake as they reached to wrap around the back of his neck. Trying to pull him closer still. Even my legs shook when they spread to accommodate his hips. Every sensation just seemed amplified.

I wasn’t a virgin, but never had I had a guy fill me like he did. And as though he needed to make sure that he had done it entirely, he gave a hard thrust that made my eyes roll back a little…made me grin stupidly.

Shudders rippled across my shoulders and down my back again when he laid still except for his heaving chest. I gulped in breaths myself, content to stay like that though I knew there was more pleasure to come. So much more.

“Are you okay, beautiful?” Darryl leaned down kissed me softly before nuzzling my neck.

“Mmm hmm,” I nodded, getting a fresh whiff of his cologne. That made me grip his arms tighter and my hips jerk under him. I gasped when he responded in kind within me.

He moaned into my hair, panting. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

I nodded against his shoulder as he started moving his hips. The feeling was glorious. I climaxed quickly, clawing at his shoulders.

The sound of his grunts, the smell his arousal, and the weight of his body on mine filtered in as I returned to him. The orgasms kept coming, some big waves and some little ripples that seemed to flow into the next. I lost track of how many I had. I just hung on for dear life and let him take me on the ride. Accepting his hungry kisses whenever he returned his mouth to mine from where he had been assaulting my neck or breasts.

He withdrew eventually, and I found myself on my stomach. At his command, I got on my knees and raised my ass to him. I heard his primal growls while he spread my ass cheeks and thumbed the ring of my asshole as he entered me completely again.

Subspace eluded me this time as I gripped the sheet and fell into his new rhythm, but I didn’t care. I was enraptured with his hands alternating between stroking my back and ass then gripping my hips.

I came hard in that position, barely cognizant when he pulled out, flipped me onto my back again, and knelt between my legs. I watched through hooded eyes while he jerked his cock with one hand and stroked my clit with the other.

His eyes slid all over my naked body, his tongue licking his bottom lip. Sweat covered his head and chest. The tats adorning his skin rippled with his muscles.

When his gaze met and held mine, I grabbed both of my breasts, tweaking my nipples.

Together, we hit that peak. His roar of release was deep and predatory, drowning out my cry. Hot cum splashed on my belly as I shook from my last orgasm, my hands slipping from my chest to lie boneless at my sides.

Darryl lowered himself beside me and pulled me into the curve of his body. I drifted off to him pressing kisses to my forehead interspersed with whispers of, “Good girl” and “you’re so beautiful,” his hand stroking my back after he pulled the covers over us.

—

Something woke me. I lay there for a moment in the darkness, trying to recall what it was when a mixture of woodsy aftershave, sweat, and sex stirred my arousal. I buried my face further into the pillow and moaned softly. Remembering the source of that scent at least.

Last night. The hottest man. The most amazing sex. Falling asleep in the refuge of his arms.

I reached out to touch my friend and lover only to find the space beside me warm but empty. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom. But when he didn’t return after several minutes, I rolled over and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Blinking at the sudden brightness, I stared at Darryl halfway across the room.

He was dressed in his boxers and T-shirt, running his palm back over his bald head while he paced. Twice, he stopped by the window and stared outside through the open curtain.

Worry crept in, fighting with the endorphins racing through my body. Did he have regrets? Was I not what he’d hoped for? Had we just ruined a great friendship by sleeping together? I didn’t want to ask, but I had to know.

“Darryl? What’s wrong?”

It was another couple of circuits before he finally answered.

“Years ago, I had a submissive.” He was at the window again, his back to me. “We were pretty serious and went to all the local events together. I’d been in the lifestyle a good ten years by then, using rope for at least half of them. I’d learned from some of the best riggers on the East Coast. But suspension is edge play. There is always risk from both the rigger and the rope bottom. And injuries can always happen, even if you do everything right. That’s been impressed upon me from the start.”

I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and took a few cautious steps closer toward him until my view was now the same as his. Outside, the sky was pitch black above the trees that created a privacy fence from the neighbors. The sky’s color reminded me of the obsidian in his eyes when we were in a scene.

Unlike the calm and control I was so used to seeing with him, he was in obvious distress right now. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know how except to just be there. So, I waited. Yet every second he wasn’t looking at me…touching me…

Internally, I whimpered that this couldn’t end. I wanted him. I needed him. He was my anchor in a very tumultuous world where everything was hush-hush unless you were in the right environment with likeminded people. I had no one else to turn to if he walked away.

Darryl eventually sighed and leaned a hip against the window frame.

“Marianne had been with other Doms before me. She’d been suspended hundreds of times. It wasn’t even her first time doing Hashira Shibari. But rope doesn’t care. It was a demo night. I checked in with her for the umpteenth time, and she said she was fine. We started taking pictures of her bound and suspended to the vertical bamboo pole when she became unresponsive. We got her down in seconds, but it took longer than expected for her to regain consciousness. The EMT who responded to our call said her vitals all checked out. That she was lucky. Turns out, she had a heart defect even she didn’t know about. She went in for surgery to repair it and…”

The sound of him choking back tears cut deep. I pulled the ends of the blanket closer as chills raced up my back. “Oh, Darryl.”

He shuddered visibly himself and tipped his head back. “It wasn’t the suspension that killed her, but I was so heartbroken, I refused to rig anyone again. Ever. I still went to events and eventually got into the chain business to supplement my personal training income. I figured that was my way to contribute back to the community and the lifestyle. Then I met Malcolm at a convention. Late one night over a bottle of whiskey, we swapped stories. I got a renewed outlook on the lifestyle. We’ve been good friends ever since.”

I smiled softly at that. Malcolm had seemed like a wonderful guy from the short time I’d been around him. Becca was a very lucky woman to have him as her Dom and fiancé. And Darryl for having him as a comrade in the kink world.

Visions suddenly flashed through my head of the months since the convention when I’d met Darryl. Of the rigging he’d done with me. I worried my lower lip. Had it all brought back bad memories? Did I remind him of Marianne? Had he tried to get past her, but kissing me—fucking me—was too much? If the answer to all of those questions was yes, then it all made sense.

My voice shook when I broke the silence. “It’s okay, Darryl. I understand.”

When he didn’t turn around after another few minutes, I wanted to disappear. To run away. But I couldn’t leave my own home. So, I did the next best thing and pulled on my pants and top, heading toward the living room.

“Where are you going?” There was something indiscernible in his voice. Somewhere between disappointment and chastisement. When I took another step, his voice was rough. “Answer me.”

I stopped, but I couldn’t look back at him for fear I would break down. I barely managed to say, “I assumed you might want to be alone.”

“Why would you think that, Ginger?”

I flinched at his rebuke. The words wouldn’t come when I opened my mouth. I swallowed painfully, trying again but failing.

“Turn around.” His tone was stronger now. Commanding.

God help me, I couldn’t help but obey. His voice… It slipped inside my head and wrapped around my brain like a collar around my throat. He owned me, even if he’d changed his mind about what we’d done. What we had.

I turned on shaky legs but stared at the carpet. Trying not to cry.

“Look at me.” He wasn’t as harsh, but it was far from the gentle manner I loved about him.

Still, the flutter inside grew stronger. The heaviness in my head seemed to lighten as I lifted it.

He had moved closer, standing with his arms crossed across his broad chest. An imposing figure, he dominated the space…the air…my very being.

“Why would you think I want to be alone, Ginger?”

“Because I remind you too much of her,” I mumbled, blinking away my unshed tears.

Darryl stared at me long and hard. His mouth pursed for a moment. “You don’t get it.”

I frowned. “No, I guess I don’t. Please enlighten me?”

“I haven’t thought about her in a long time. But that night and the repercussions will always be in the back of my mind. You only remind me of her in good ways. Of what I’m missing. Because I’ve been too afraid to take that plunge again. The ‘what ifs’ always convince me there can be no accidents if I’m alone. So I’ve remained alone.”

He scrubbed his hand across his face and chuckled softly.

“What?” I glanced around to see what he could be laughing about but it was just the two of us.

“You made me see that I am no good alone. I’m better with a partner. So much better.”

“So, you’re not having second thoughts about what we—”

“Oh, beautiful girl.” He closed the distance in two strides, cupping my face as he kissed me so passionately that my knees shook.

I gripped his arms, needing to touch him. Needing stability.

When he let me up for air, he whispered between heavy breaths, “I have zero doubts about that at all. You are what I want. Understood?”

I could only nod, panting and shivering as he skated his hands over my arms.

“Come, let’s go back to bed, beautiful.”

And I followed him.

—

A hand on my arm pulled me from my reverie. I smiled at my guy behind the wheel, remembering where I was. Where we were heading. And why. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself.” Darryl smiled back at me. “You ready to get out of this car?”

“Like a pit stop?” I tried to remember when we had last pulled over.

He chuckled. “No, like we’re here.”

“Oh!” I shifted to sit up straighter as he turned and we passed under the canopy of trees flanking the lane into the cul-de-sac where Becca and Malcolm, and Daphne and Stefan lived. Where we’d visited numerous times in the past years for various events. Where we’d take the next step in our lives surrounded by those close, kinky friends.

It felt like butterflies were all tied up in my belly as the view opened onto the wide circle of seaside mansions. Excitement and nerves fought for control. We had made the right choice, right? They were our friends. But we lived so far away. We weren’t in the know on local things, their every-day lives. I still felt like strangers to them.

Much like I had with Darryl at first.

The geographic distance between us had been okay when we were doing the occasional scene at parties. But once we’d expressed our mutual desire to be together…him living in Maine and me being on the other side of the border grew to be an issue. While I had a Canadian passport, I was still taking classes at the University of Ottawa. And he had a business in the US.

I hated that he was driving six hours one way for us to be together. I knew he didn’t think it was ideal, either, despite his affirmations that he was absolutely fine crossing that distance just to see me. I could see how tired he was every time he arrived; the sadness on his face when he went back home. And sometimes, it was two to three weekends between visits. I wanted to see him more but didn’t press.

He’d surprised me a year after we’d been together—a year after Becca and Malcolm had gotten married—when he’d arrived one weekend and stated he’d bought a new place in Syracuse, New York. Was transferring from the gym in Maine to one in his new city. Although still not where I was, it cut his drive time in half. Besides giving us more time together, it also relieved some of my worries about him driving so much.

Once I finished school, I went through the necessary hoops to get immigration status and moved in with him. No more crazy long commutes. Now, we were embarking on that final step to make me an official US citizen. I was still looking for a job in nursing, though. The healthcare system in the US was not the same as up north, and that was just more red tape I would have to fight. But not until after we said “I Do.”

As though knowing what I was struggling with, Darryl clasped my hand and squeezed it. “Try to relax. They love you. Not more than I do, but they do. Everything will go just fine.”

We disembarked at the center house where a couple of other cars were already in the driveway and grabbed our luggage for the next week. The front door opened as we ascended the stone porch steps.

“Took you long enough,” Becca smiled, pulling me into her embrace before I’d even stepped across the threshold.

“I think she missed her puppy,” Darryl said over my shoulder as soon as I saw Malcolm over Becca’s.

“Apparently,” Malcolm laughed, shaking his head. “Let them into the house, Becca.”

His wife obeyed, but she didn’t let me go. Instead, she grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hall toward the kitchen where I heard other voices.

After all these years, I was still enthralled with Becca’s writing skills, her stories. And she still considered me her biggest fan. I held her in high regard as a mentor and friend. And soon, family. We may not be blood, but there was no closer-knit group of people I’d met than these couples on the East Coast.

“The kids are taking a nap upstairs, so we have plenty of time to catch up.”

“Ginger!” Daphne screeched the moment we came into view. She abandoned her discussion with her husband, Stefan, at the island and plowed into my body, breaking the contact with Becca before wrapping me into her arms.

“You ladies act like you haven’t seen each other in eons,” Stefan laughed. “Honey, you’re going to smother her.”

Daphne giggled and released me. “Well, it has been three weeks.”

“Three long weeks,” Becca agreed.

The girls had come up to see me in New York for a bachelorette party. We’d hit the spa, the salon, and the clubs before crashing at the loft Darryl and I shared. It had been perfect.

“You’d think it was one of those two getting married,” Darryl said, taking a beer from Malcolm.

“Didn’t you know? You marry one of us, you marry us all?” Daphne laughed. She grabbed my hand and tilted her head towards the front of the house. “Come on, Becca, we have details to go over.”

As I was dragged back down the hall, I heard Malcolm say, “Well, you were warned.”

Upstairs in the grand library that spanned two floors, four large totes crowded a chaise lounge. Three binders were spread out on the oversized coffee table between two leather couches.

I took a seat on one of the couches and flipped through the pages of the largest binder which lay open. They were filled with cut-out photos and clippings of decorating ideas. “Wow, you guys have been busy! But I already have—”

“We just compiled the ideas from our weddings. Plus things we knew you’d probably like based on what you’ve told us.” Daphne plopped down next to me and pointed at the totes. “But those are all from my wedding. The second one. I had them flown in from France.”

I smiled and nodded, remembering going to Paris for the ceremony on her mother-in-law’s estate. Lots of pomp and circumstance. The decorations had been quite elaborate, too. Too much for my tastes, but I’d be polite and look at them. The second binder I picked up was a photographic travelogue of that trip, just in case anyone’s memory had slipped.

The third binder proved to be from Becca’s wedding as the first page had a photo of her and Malcolm standing before Buckingham Fountain in their wedding clothes. Her younger brother, Alexander, was in a similar photo with Becca and their mother, Beth, on the next page.

I had joined the group after Becca’s eldest brother, Drake, had passed away. He would have still been alive for her wedding, but he was absent from any of the photos. As was Daphne. I knew he had also been Daphne’s first husband, though I hadn’t known their story. Just that it had been a tragic one. And that Daphne was much happier with Stefan.

“Don’t feel obligated to use our ideas, Ginger.” Becca took a seat on my other side and handed me a notepad and pen. “I know it’s going to be small, but you should to start a list so we can go shopping later for decorations, flowers, the meal, and dessert. We’ll also have a rehearsal dinner, so think of what you want to eat. Oh! I almost forgot; we need to take you by the hall we reserved to use as backup if the weather turns nasty. They need to know by tomorrow if we want to keep it.”

“All I want is a nice, quiet beach wedding with my friends. A couple of lanterns at sunset works.”

Neither woman seemed to have heard me as they were laughing about one of the pictures in Becca’s binder.

“Maybe we should have eloped,” I mumbled under my breath.

—

Darryl and I were staying in one of the guestrooms at Becca and Malcolm’s. I’d hoped to sleep in, snuggled up to my warm fiancé. It wasn’t meant to be.

The pitter-patter of tiny feet, soft pounding on our door, and high-pitched giggles outside of it followed by an adult’s heavier footsteps and repeated requests to shush had me cracking an eyelid to see the alarm clock showed it was 5:34am.

So much for being on vacation.

I tried to fall asleep again after the noise departed, but even Darryl’s soft snoring that usually lulled me didn’t work. I guessed I was up. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I followed the scent of coffee brewing downstairs.

“Didn’t realize we’d requested a wake-up call,” I smiled, entering the kitchen.

“So sorry about that,” Becca smiled back from where she stood at the lunch counter, cutting up a pancake. Her toddler, Landon, was sitting in his booster seat on the other side, singing a song about dinosaurs while also bopping a toy one along the counter. “I tried to catch him before he got to your room. He likes to watch cartoons after breakfast.”

I ruffled Landon’s hair, causing him to grin up at me and wave the dinosaur in the air. “Hi, sweetie. I smelled coffee.”

“Just made a fresh pot. Help yourself. Do you want anything to eat? Malcolm’s still upstairs.”

“Yeah, Darryl is still sleeping, too. Don’t go to any trouble to make me anything. The coffee will do just fine for now.”

“The weather is beautiful if you want to sit on the deck.” Becca motioned to her son with the knife. “I’ll come have a cup with you when I’m done with him.”

“Thanks. I think I will.”

I doctored up a cup of steaming java and grabbed a blanket from the basket by the French doors before wandering outside to take in the view of the ocean. The sun was still rising, casting the water into a liquid sheet of glass.

Snuggled into one of the deck chairs, I thought of the week to come. That Darryl and I were finally getting married. After the past half-dozen years of making sure I’d be legal to stay in the states and be able to transfer my nursing license, this was a nice respite.

We’d visited many times but usually stayed in a hotel because Becca’s family had been visiting, too. Holidays and such. Becca had insisted we stay at their house this time.

It was nice to wake up and watch the sun rise from the beach. It was a much more striking view than from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the loft. I loved that place. Probably because Darryl and I had made it ours. But living on the ocean’s edge? I knew I’d like it, at least for a while.

Becca sat down in the chair next to me, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She set a baby monitor screen on the table between us and sipped from her own cup.

I glanced at the silent screen to see Landon situated on the living room couch with a blanket, some toys, and a sippy cup. The TV was also visible with what looked like Looney Tunes playing. Classic.

Returning my view to the water, I sighed deeply and warmed my hands on my mug. Enjoying the view and the company.

“Are you ready for this?” Becca finally asked, breaking the silence.

“I’ve been ready. We would have done it last year if it hadn’t been for the damn pandemic.”

Becca snorted softly. “That would have been interesting, everyone in masks on the beach.”

“I can just imagine the chaplain. I now present you as Mr. and Mrs. Cullom, but you’ll have to wait ten days in quarantine separated from each other before you can kiss.”

We both laughed.

“I’m just glad we all got through it.” Becca set her cup on the table and turned to me. “And I’m glad you’re doing it here. It seems right. Seeing as we introduced you.”

I sighed wistfully. “That seems so long ago. But it was an awesome weekend. I wish I hadn’t taken my roommates, though. They were so embarrassing.”

“Would you have gone alone?”

“Nope. I couldn’t have afforded it.”

“So it was good they did come. Then you got the better end of the deal. Snowed in with the man who would become your husband?”

“True. I don’t think we’d be here right now if we’d not had that time together. To talk.”

“And here we left thinking he merely saw you as my puppy.”

I blushed at that, dipping my chin. “I think he’s my puppy, now. And you’ll have to share me.”

Becca laughed and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad he followed you, Ginger. You two are perfect for each other.”

—

Lunch that day included Daphne and her family. Six adults, two toddlers, and a partridge in a pear tree. Or rather, a plastic dinosaur that had to stand guard over the nuggets and mac-n-cheese on Landon’s plate as he stabbed at his food.

Hope, Daphne and Stefan’s daughter, was more interested in my engagement ring from her seat next to me. I’d tuned out her “pretty!” comments after about the eighth time and just let her touch it after her mom had wiped her hands clean.

The adult conversation centered around the wedding plans. Darryl backed me up that we were keeping it simple. Small. The ceremony would be at dusk on the beach. We were renting a mini pergola arch to drape with something. A couple of lanterns with candles would finish off the mood. It didn’t need to be elaborate or expensive. Just intimate and memorable.

My parents were the only ones coming down from Canada. They’d be here in two days. Darryl’s mom was going to fly in from California the same day. That gave us two more days without our families. Two more days to get everything in place.

“So, us guys are going to hit the store to get the ingredients for the crab boil for the rehearsal dinner and the tables and chairs you reserved,” Malcolm said, pushing his chair back. “Shish-kabobs tonight, right?”

“Yes, love.” Becca kissed her husband before he scooted around the long table.

“Text us if there are any changes,” Stefan added as he joined him, kissing his wife on the way.

Darryl copied the other guys and growled softly after kissing me. “Let’s take a walk when we get back, okay? I want to find a private spot on the beach to make out with my fiancée.”

I gripped his hand in mine, trying to slow my heartbeat. “Mmm hmm. I’ll look forward to that.”

He gave me a wink and squeezed my hand back.

Becca stood and started gathering the dirty dishes. “My mom should be here soon. She’ll watch the kids while we run our own errands.”

Daphne jumped up and helped her.

I just sat there like a bump on a log while everyone dispersed, leaving me with the two toddlers. Who both made it crystal clear once their mothers were absent that they wanted to get down from the table. I released them from their booster-seat mini prisons, and they scampered off to the living room area.

My mind drifted as I watched them pull themselves up on the couch, off in their own little world again, playing with some toys. Soon, that would be my world. A couple of kids, Darryl, and me living our best lives. It’s what I’d always wanted. Dreamed of. Besides being a nurse.

I had the profession covered. Husband was on the horizon. Next step, kids. Not that we hadn’t been trying. The doctor just chalked it up to the current stress in our lives. Moving from one country to another. Getting married. Once we settled down, she was sure there would be no problem getting pregnant. A year from now, we’d have our own Landon or Hope.

Beth showed up thirty minutes later and settled on the couch by her grandkids while us younger ladies headed off to look at decoration and dessert options. There had been no need to order a big cake, but I wanted something sweet for our small family to feast on after the meal, which was being catered by a local Italian restaurant.

I had been looking forward to this day out with the girls, but I was quickly overwhelmed with the decisions. The sizes of the lanterns. The colors. The number of candles. The flavors of cupcakes. Filling or not filled. Buttercream or whipped cream icing. Fancy designs or flat tops. What to put in party favors if we got them.

I thought I’d known what I wanted. It suddenly felt like I was on one of those “Say Yes To The Dress” shows where the bride wasn’t finding anyone on her side except the professionals. But in my case, the professionals kept their opinions to themselves. I was completely alone.

And then there was Daphne’s sudden surly attitude. She’d been fine at breakfast. But she sat on a bench outside the florist after saying she had a headache only to shoot down all of the ideas Becca and I mentioned when we came back out to the car.

She at least went into the store to look at decorations, though the scowl on her face told me she’d rather be anywhere else.

It was at the bakery where she kept saying how Hope and Landon wouldn’t eat this flavor or that one when I considered texting Darryl to pick me up and take me to the courthouse. I didn’t need all this stress. I just wanted to be his wife. To settle down and start our family.

Why was this becoming so difficult?

“Ginger?” Daphne snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Are you okay?”

All I could do was blink. Rapidly. Lord, help me. I wondered if it would help if I screamed.

Becca’s face appeared before me, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Do you need a break?”

I needed something all right. Like a couple shots of Jack. I waved my hand at them and stood from the table we’d been tasting cupcakes at, walking outside as if on autopilot.

Fresh air with a tinge of sea salt caressed my face. It cooled my cheeks. Cleared my head. And strangely, gave me courage.

It was the first time all day that I felt in charge. And I made the biggest decision about this event so far beyond saying yes to Darryl: no more looking at options. They’d both had their chance. This was MY wedding and we were going to do it MY way. To hell with them.

With a renewed sense of self-control, I rejoined my sisters in kink at the table with a smile.

Daphne opened her mouth as soon as she saw me, lowering the other half of one of the carrot cake cupcakes in her hand, but I held up my own hand to stop her.

I pointed to the chart that Sarah, the employee, had been showing us.

“I would like a dozen of the vanilla cupcakes with vanilla buttercream. And a dozen of the marble cupcakes with the chocolate buttercream. We will also take two of the strawberry-shortcake filled cupcakes for us to use in lieu of cutting the cake. They can all have the regular fluted design on top.”

“Good choices. Classic yet still delicious.” Sarah’s smile looked like she felt as relieved as I was that we were finally getting somewhere. She wrote down my order and took it up to the counter to get the total. “Will you need them delivered?”

I followed her and handed over the credit card we were using for wedding expenses. But I glanced at my friends to answer her question.

“No,” Becca said. “I’ll pick them up Thursday night, if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine. We close at six-thirty.” Sarah handed my card back along with a copy of the receipt. “We’ll see you Thursday. And congratulations, again.”

“Thank you very much.” I waved and made a beeline outside, waiting at the car for Daphne and Becca to catch up. Once they did, Daphne was the first to speak up.

“I thought we were leaning towards the combination option with six different—”

This time, it was Becca who put her hand up to stop her sister-in-law. Or maybe it was the glare she shot her way that did it.

“I think Ginger realized this was her day. What she wants, she gets.” Turning her back on Daphne, she asked me, “Anything else to check off the list, dear?”

I smiled broadly at my friend and mentor. “As a matter of fact, yes. We’re going back for the lanterns. I want four wooden ones in the bleached whitewash. Medium sized. And four small battery flicker candles. Three of the blue-and-green sea glass chargers with puka shells and tealights for the tables. White gossamer for the arch and white table clothes.”

“It’ll look gorgeous.” Becca unlocked the car, and we all piled in to head back to the hobby store.

“I’m forgetting something, I think.”

“Flowers.” Daphne mumbled something else under her breath, but I ignored her.

“Oh, yes! The calla lilies. A mix of the white and the blue Picasso ones. Those were the prettiest.”

Becca made a few lane changes. “We’ll do the florist now since it’s on the way.”

“Are we going to make it home in time for dinner?” Daphne groaned.

The mood from the back seat was suffocating. Even lowering the passenger window to catch the ocean breeze didn’t help this time. I wanted to ease the tension as much as possible without being mean. All of Daphne’s ideas today had been just that. Her ideas. She’d had two weddings already. I’d never known her to be so selfish. Still, I did appreciate her input.

I turned toward her slightly. “I want to thank you both for doing this with me. It’s been a bit hectic lately, and your opinions do matter to me.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Becca said, patting my hand resting on the console between us.

Daphne nodded, though not meeting my gaze. “We just want it to be perfect.”

“I know. And it will be.” I swallowed hard and glanced between the two of them again. “Which means I’m going on the prayer that the weather holds out. Darryl and I spoke last night, and we’d like to cancel the backup reservation at the hall. It’ll save us money. We really do thank you for thinking of it, though.”

“Understandable. We can call when we get—”

“On it,” Daphne said, texting away on her phone but still not looking at me. A minute later, she announced, “Cancelled.”

“Uh, thanks.” I glanced at Becca who just shrugged.

We finished our errands without further attitude and got back to Becca’s house with our purchases to find that the men had not returned yet. Once we’d moved everything inside, Daphne gathered up Hope, said something about needing to do things at home, and then she disappeared.

“Don’t mind her,” Becca said, her hand on my shoulder. “She’s been a bit moody lately. Maybe her time of the month or something. I really like what you picked out for the decorations today. The flowers will look beautiful with everything.”

“Thanks. I really appreciated the businesses working with us on such short notice.”

“You didn’t have any unreasonable requests. You’ve kept the whole thing very manageable. The end is in sight, and now you can just relax.”

“I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit. Wake me up for dinner if I’m not downstairs?”

“Absolutely. Sweet dreams, Ginger!”

I waved at Beth and Landon as I passed through the open living room area and headed upstairs to the guest room. Just a quick nap. That’s all I needed to decompress and recharge.

—

The last thing I remembered was crashing as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Sometime later, I woke to the feeling of a soft breeze blowing across my belly, giving me goosebumps. Something warm, slightly fuzzy, and wet was on my chest. My naked chest.

My brain still a bit hazy, I tried to remember if Becca and Darryl had gotten a cat. I attempted to bat away the source but found I couldn’t move my arms.

My eyes flew open, but I could see only blackness. Panic rose over me, a scream rising at the back of my throat. Before it could escape, I heard a growl.

“So good, beautiful.”

After several deep breaths, I relaxed. Moaned at the way Darryl was fondling my breast.

A quick search with my fingers found the rope tying my hands together and my wrists to the headboard. I turned my face toward my arm and rubbed back and forth, feeling silk. Realized a band was around my head.

I was tied up. And blindfolded. At his mercy.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some sleep around here?” I mumbled, wiggling my arms a little against the pillows.

“Just ignore me,” he mumbled back, sucking my nipple between his teeth.

“Easier said than done.” I hissed at the sharp pain when he bit a little too hard, sighing as he soothed with his tongue before releasing it to move over to my other nipple. “What time is it?”

There was a pause in his sweet torture before he said, “Quarter after five. Not yet time for dinner.”

My moan morphed from one of acknowledgement of his answer to the pleasure of feeling his fingers sliding under the waistband of my panties.

I arched my hips when he stroked over my clit. “Darryl!”

“Ginger,” he chuckled against my skin, his mouth still wreaking havoc on my now swollen breasts.

His fingers didn’t waste any time delving deeper. Thrusting up into me.

I gripped the air, my body undulating on its own. Riding the waves of desire he was building inside me. All thoughts slipped away except reaching that crest. Crashing in a different way. And he did not disappoint.

My mind was hazy again. The bed shifted a few times. And then I was whimpering at the telltale scratch of jute rope being dragged across my left leg. Being tied around my ankle.

Now my heart was beating faster for a different reason. He’d brought rope. More than just enough to tie up my hands. He was actually doing this in the guest room of our friends’ house. They were probably downstairs, thinking I was taking an innocent nap above them. My whimpers grew louder.

“Shh, don’t want to draw attention,” Darryl rasped against my ear just before my leg was raised in the air leaving my knee bent and my foot dangling.

His fingers trailed down my calf to my thigh, across my mound, and then disappeared. But not for long. Rope skated across my right leg, wrapped around my ankle, and helped raise my leg in the air to mimic my left.

I ended up with both legs held up and open, my pussy exposed to anyone who might walk in. My hands immobile. I could see nothing. Only feel. And feel I did.

Darryl’s body lay over mine as I whimpered and writhed beneath him, his fingers stroking me internally again. Then his mouth captured mine.

I got lost in the kiss, barely registering that he’d lifted his body up and moved my panties aside until I felt his hard erection pressing into my pussy. He swallowed my cry of mixed surprise and pleasure as my knees spread out, making room for his hips just before he seated himself fully inside.

Gently, he rocked against me. Building me up again. His lips moved to my neck, assaulting me with tongue and teeth like he’d done on my breasts. One hand gripped my bound wrists and held them to the pillow; his other roamed over my sweat-slicked body.

There was nothing I could do but lay there and take it. His body was heavy over mine. Thick and full inside me. His fingers teasing and arousing. Always keeping me just on the cusp of breaking. I loved every bit of it.

But the longer he kept me on the edge, the more frustrated I became. I tried to buck his body, getting him to hit where I needed it. Wriggling my hips. Arching my back. Groaning that I couldn’t wrap my legs around the back of his and dig my heels into his ass.

He resisted my attempts to find release. Kept up his leisurely pace. Drove me insane.

Eventually, I ran out of energy. I stopped struggling and relaxed under him with a whimper. Knowing that made me softer…wetter. More receptive to his touch.

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned against my skin. “Just like that.”

Suddenly, his weight lifted. He withdrew, drawing a deep groan from me. I felt him adjusting himself between my legs. Then he plunged back in.

His hands were on the inside of my knees now, keeping my legs apart. “Such a good girl.”

He finally sped up, the sounds and smell of my arousal filling my head. All I could do is roll my head back and forth.

“Right there, baby. Yeah, I can feel you’re right there.” He slammed into me and grunted.

My whimpers grew more persistent. One of his hands moved down between my legs and rubbed my clit in rapid circles. His voice descended to a growl in my ear.

“Come for me, baby.”

And I did.

Bucking and crying out against his mouth as he kept up the pace. The pressure. Until I felt him release in me and we both collapsed, spent and boneless. Gasping for breath and grasping to hold onto each other after he quickly released the rope holding my legs and hands to the headboard.

I was drifting between sleep and consciousness again, curled against Darryl’s warm body with my limbs still bound together, when I heard a soft knock on the door before it creaked open.

“Dinner is in thirty minutes,” Becca whispered.

Darryl mumbled thanks and hugged me tighter to him.

I snuggled in and was content to skip dinner until my stomach growled. Loudly.

“Guess we should get presentable.” My fiancé brushed my hair out of my face and kissed me softly.

“I want a honeymoon where there are no other people,” I murmured against his lips but obliged to follow him when he helped me sit up.

He worked on releasing my wrists and ankles, taking time to drag the rope across my skin and rub my joints. Making me shiver with gleeful sensations.

“Oh, and bring the rope.”

“That’s a deal, beautiful.”

—

Wednesday was spent cleaning the house and making sure everyone’s clothes and accessories were all accounted for. That we had all the food we needed. That the decorations were all in order.

Darryl and I still had not gotten a chance to have our walk on the beach. We were just too busy. He promised we’d get up and watch the sunrise together before we had to pick up our parents from the airport.

But dawn broke cold and rainy on Thursday, setting the mood for the entire day. A thunderstorm during the night had knocked out the power temporarily, resetting the clocks. Including the alarm we’d set. There was no morning walk. Not that there would have been a sunrise to see.

I second-guessed my decision about cancelling the backup location from the moment I stepped outside on the deck to drink my morning coffee. The air was clammy. The water dark and choppy. All very unromantic.

We’d just gotten downstairs for breakfast when the florist called to say their shipment of blue Picasso lilies had arrived damaged. Even if they placed another order, it wouldn’t be here by tomorrow night. No other shops had any, either. Thankfully, we could still get the plain white calla lilies and some other dark blue flowers that they assured would look beautiful together. Plus a discount for our troubles.

We were washing the breakfast dishes when Darryl got a phone call that his aunt had had a heart attack. While stable, she was in the ICU. His mother was distraught about what to do. He assured her that we understood and would make arrangements to see her in the near future. Then he helped her change her flight to go to Texas to go be with her only sister.

Daphne and Stefan decided to spend the day at home, saying Hope might be coming down with something. They wanted to let her rest so she’d be well enough for the festivities.

Landon had woken up cranky with a stuffy nose. He cried any time Becca left him alone, causing her to sit on the couch with him most of the day while he watched cartoons or slept on her lap.

The arch was delivered, but it was in pieces. Malcolm and Darryl spent the rest of the morning putting it together in the garage.

My parents’ flight was delayed then rerouted due to storms further north. We wouldn’t be able to get them until Friday morning now.

Me? I secluded myself in the upstairs library by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket.

Crying for my mom.

Wishing for the millionth time that we had just eloped.

And wondering what else could go wrong.

—

By late Thursday afternoon, the rain had stopped. The surf had calmed down. The sun was peeking through the clouds. And I was tired of being cooped up. It was time for that walk on the beach, fiancé or no fiancé.

I donned my light jacket and tennis shoes, pocketing my phone. Downstairs, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Just as I reached the French doors to the porch facing the beach, Becca waved a hand at me to join her in the kitchen while answering her phone.

“Hi, Daphne. How’s Ho— Whoa, slow down! Ok.” She stopped washing the dish in her hand, mumbling, “Well that explains—”

I mouthed, “Everything okay?” To which she rolled her eyes.

“Nothing. I’m so happy for you. No, they’re coming tomorrow now. And there were some other setbacks. What time are you coming over for the rehearsal? Yes, we’ll start the crab boil afterwards. That works. Okay, we’ll see you then. Bye!”

“Do I dare ask what that was all about?” I arched an eyebrow.

Becca returned to casually cleaning a plate and Landon’s sippy cup. “Well, now we know why Daphne has been all Severus Snape lately. She’s expecting.”

I paused with my bottle halfway to my mouth. “I guess congrats are in order!”

“I’m happy for her.”

“So you’ve said.” There was no emotion at all in Becca’s tone. No excitement. She wasn’t even smiling. “Tell me how you really feel.”

She sighed heavily. “I really am happy for her…if it ends up being legit. She’s had lots of false positives. I swear they must own stock in pregnancy tests. She tests regularly for the slightest change in her body. I know she’s worried she’ll have another miscarriage. That was so long ago, but still. They haven’t been able to get pregnant since Hope. I do hope she does someday soon. But show me an official result from the doctor and I’ll believe her.” Becca shook her head. “I’m sorry her mood swings ruined your planning day.”

“It wasn’t ruined. I was just…” I shrugged, finally taking a sip of water, “overwhelmed. This whole thing has been a little crazy.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. Especially with everything that happened this morning.” Becca dried her hands on a towel and came over to give me a hug.

“Thanks. It’ll be over before we know it. Where are the guys?”

“On an errand, I think. Malcolm mentioned showing Darryl something. They should be back by dinner. Oh, that reminds me. I need to clean the potatoes and corn for the crab boil.”

“Sounds good. I’m going for a walk.”

The sand on the beach was still firm underfoot from the rain. Packed as if made for a good sand castle. It also made good for walking on so your feet didn’t sink in with every step. As long as you stayed away from the water’s edge, which ebbed and flowed rewetting the sand closest to it.

I stuffed my bottle of water and hands in the pockets of my jacket, heading north along the drier parts of the sand. The breeze made the air quite chilly. It whipped my hair about despite it being in a ponytail. But it all felt good. Calmed me down.

My thoughts drifted as I made my way around a dune and towards the next set of houses. A group of people in the distance caught my eye. They were sitting in chairs facing the water.

The closer I got, the more I wondered again what it would be like to live here. I liked the beach. The ocean. I even liked the storms as they came in across the horizon. How I would cuddle with Darryl inside by the fireplace to get the chill out of the air. Read a good book while drinking a hot cup of something or other. Let the rain lull me to sleep.

I just didn’t like them messing with my plans. My wedding.

A soft chime from my phone distracted my thoughts. When I pulled up the screen, it showed I had a message from my medical chart app. New test results.

Nervously, I logged in and searched for the message. I hadn’t told Darryl I’d gone in to speak to my doctor before we’d left. After he’d had been tested negatively to see if he was shooting blanks, I wanted to make sure it was just stress preventing conceiving.

My eyes blurred as I read the results. Blinking did not help the constriction I suddenly felt in my chest. The difficulty to breathe. Somehow, I’d continued to keep walking through it all.

No. It couldn’t be.

But right there in black and white was the proof I didn’t want to see: I was infertile.

I was the problem.

The sounds of giggling and screeching pulled my attention back to my surroundings. I looked up to see a young dark-haired girl and boy who looked so alike they had to be siblings running right at me. Neither were looking where they were going.

I went to step out of the way. But my foot landed on a rock, my ankle turned, and I and went down with a loud grunt. The first thought I had was the sand was cold under my ass. And hard. The second thought was my side was wet. Oh, I’d landed on the plastic water bottle, crushing it.

“Essie! Evan!” A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair who looked to be close to Becca’s age ran up. She shook her head as she reached us, “Are you okay, miss?”

I stared up at her for a second. She was beautiful. I blinked. Did she ask me something? I managed to nod and smile at her raised eyebrows. As she helped me stand, I noticed the twinge in my ankle and the fact that the kids had stopped playing. Their heads were down as they walked over to the woman, apparently waiting for another rebuke from her.

“So sorry about that. Jenna,” the woman said, holding out her hand.

“Oh, no. It’s all right.” I wiped the sand off of my hands and shook hers. “I’m Ginger.”

“Nice to meet you.” She looked at the two kids. “What do you say to Ginger?”

“I’m sorry, Ginger,” the little girl said, partly stepping behind the woman but giving me a smile.

“Sorry, Ginger,” the boy added, glancing up at me through his bangs.

I stooped down a little to their height. Neither looked to be more than six years old, but the girl was taller so probably older than her brother even though he’d been chasing her. “Thank you. No harm done. It sure looked like you were having fun.”

Both kids looked at each other, at Jenna, and then smiled brightly, nodding.

“Jenna! Kids! Time to eat!”

I looked up to see an auburn-haired lady approaching. A very pregnant lady.

“Hi, Mommy,” both kids said in unison when she stopped and ruffled their hair.

She gave Jenna a kiss then turned her attention to me. “Hello. Everything okay here?”

“Kat, this is Ginger. Ginger, this is my wife, Kat. You’ve met our kids, Essie and Evan.” Jenna smiled fondly back at the other lady. “The kids were using her as a safety zone for tag. It got a little out of control for a moment.”

“Nice to meet you,” I offered along with my hand. I wobbled for a moment trying to keep my balance after she let go.

“Likewise.” Kat looked me up and down, her forehead creasing. “You took a pretty big fall there.”

“Idgie could take a look at your ankle for you,” Jenna said, pointing over her shoulder at the group less than a hundred feet away. “She’s a home health care nurse.”

I could now make out four more ladies and a couple of toddlers moving around in an outcropping of chairs and umbrellas.

“I should be fine, but thank you.”

Kat glanced up and down the beach. “Are you here all alone?”

“I’m staying with friends.” I pointed in Becca and Malcolm’s direction. “Just out for a walk. Do you all live here?”

“No,” Jenna said. “We’re on vacation with my sister and her wife; and a good friend, her wife, and their two kids.”

It was tough keeping my smile.

Birth announcements. Kids. Babies. Everywhere around me. Why was life so cruel?

“Are you staying long?” Kat interrupted my thoughts.

“Just through the weekend. I’m getting married tomorrow night.”

“Oh! That sounds lovely!” she exclaimed, her eyes growing big.

“It will be, as long as this weather clears up. We’re having it on the beach. Or planned to.”

“I’m sure it will work out,” Jenna nodded, laying a hand on the shoulders of both kids. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay, Ginger. Hate to run, but we were just going to have dinner.”

“It was good to meet you all. Bye, Essie and Evan! Enjoy the rest of your vacation.” I waved as the four headed back to the rest of their party on the beach.

And then I was alone. Again. I turned and retraced my steps toward the familiar cul-de-sac. Noticing a slight throbbing in my ankle. It would work its way out as I walked. Or so I told myself.

When I reached the mansion, there was no activity outside. None inside that I could see, either, other than a light in the living room. I wasn’t ready to face Darryl and let him know we’d never have kids. So I headed south with the coast along my left side this time.

The more I walked, the moodier I became, my mind shifting from my ankle to my dilemma.

Yeah, there was adoption. But I’d wanted to experience natural motherhood. Like my mother and her mother before her. Like my friends. I didn’t have a traumatic childhood. Nothing that could have explained why this was happening. Just pure dumb luck, I guess.

I felt the first drop of water on my left arm and disregarded it. It was just sea spray. A few minutes later, I felt another on my head. I ignored it, too. But when I felt two on my right arm, I knew I’d been mistaken.

That’s when I looked up at the sky. Saw how dark it had become. My watch showed it was still well before sunset. The wind picked up while I was trying to decide if I should find shelter or turn back.

I knew that eventually I would reach Ocean City if I continued on my path, but even that still seemed far off on the southern horizon. Maybe another cul-de-sac? I turned around and could no longer see Becca’s house. How far had I walked?

A sudden crack of lightning off in the distance made me shriek and jump. Yep! Going back won.

I started off in a fast walk as thunder rumbled. I thought I was making good time when the rain picked up. Became steady. Cold and constant.

No worries. I could do this.

Then I slid on the wet sand. The same fucking ankle went out on me. I crashed to the beach in a loud cry; my leg bent under me. Damnit!

Rain pelted my back, and more thunder rumbled.

Eventually back on my feet, I tugged the hood of my jacket tighter over my head and pursued on. I would not give up.

But after falling a third time, I threw my head back and let loose a cry of frustration, the storm swallowing my scream.

My throat now sore and ankle throbbing, I was resigned to huddle in the tall grasses nearby until the storm passed.

Miserable did not even begin to describe what I was feeling. My knees were wet and cold as I half crawled and have dragged my left leg across the sand. One thing I was grateful for was my brilliance at choosing jeans to wear on my walk. At least my legs had protection from the elements.

Another flash of lightning—like from a pivotal point in a movie—highlighted a nearby house further off the beach. Its windows were dark, and there was a weather-beaten For Sale sign on both the siding and on a post on the path leading up to it. From what I could see from this distance, it looked abandoned. Nothing creepy about that at all.

But a dry house versus wet grasses? No brainer.

I grunted and cried openly as I dragged myself to my feet once more and limped up the sand-and-beach debris path, through a rickety wooden gate, and onto the dilapidated front porch.

By the time I was able to look through the first window to the left of the door, every bone in my body ached. There was no furniture inside. A turn of the doorknob showed it was locked. But the glass of the second window proved to be partially broken.

I took off my jacket and dug into the pocket for my phone to call Becca so she’d know where I was. Empty. I dug in the other pocket but just found the flattened bottle. Checked my jeans. Nothing.

It was gone.

Great. Just fucking great.

Looking out onto the dark beach, I tried to remember the last time I’d used my phone. I had brought it with me, hadn’t I? Yes! I’d gotten the message about the damn test. Had it fallen out when I met that group of ladies and kids? Somewhere way north of here? Or further south before I’d turned around? Any one of the multiple times I’d fallen?

The pouring rain seemed to taunt me, beckoning me to come out into the tempest and search for what I was missing.

If not for my ankle, I would have. There was nothing I could do to rectify it now, so I wrapped my jacket around my right hand and punched through enough of the remaining window glass to reach inside and find the deadbolt on the door.

Seconds later, I was sitting in a pool of water inside on a hardwood floor. I was shivering. But at least I was no longer getting drowned.

The rain pounded harder outside. I was glad to have found shelter. I hoped that group of ladies and kids I’d met had gotten inside, too. They probably weren’t so stupid to have wandered so far from where they were staying.

Me? I wasn’t going anywhere soon.

I thought about lying down right there to simmer in despair. That wouldn’t solve anything, though. Maybe I could wander around to see if the house was completely empty or if there was something to dry myself off with.

It hurt like hell to even limp, but I forced myself to move. To distract my thoughts.

It was a slow process, stopping every few feet to catch my breath. The pain just wouldn’t go away this time. The walls were helpful to lean on, but they were spread out in this open floorplan.

The bathroom was useful but only to relieve myself. There were no towels. None in the kitchen, either. The layout was nice, though. It reminded me of Becca’s.

A door led into an attached two-car garage, also empty. Two rooms that could be bedrooms or an office space were also on the main floor besides the full bathroom. There wasn’t a stitch of anything from the previous owners. Just dust and cobwebs.

I was attempting to try the stairs to the second floor when I ran out of adrenaline. I ended up in a non-descript room just off the foyer. A bay window looked out onto another cul-de-sac similar to the one my friends lived in. There didn’t appear to be any life at any of the houses. The only lights were from street lamps scattered around the lot.

So I sat on the wooden bench of the window seat and elevated my sore ankle. Watching the ever-increasing darkness through the storm. Sinking deeper into depression.

Maybe all of this had happened for a reason.

Sure, Darryl and I were good when it came to scenes. Rigging. Fucking. But maybe we weren’t supposed to get married. Hell, I couldn’t even give him kids now. One of his greatest wishes was to be a dad. I’d failed at that. Would I also fail at being a wife?

I should have never gone to that stupid kink convention. I’d still be in Canada. Safe in my apartment. Focusing my time on my profession.

I was thinking it was better to just cancel the wedding, tears streaming down my cheeks, when I passed out from exhaustion.

—

“Sweetie? Can you open your eyes?” a feminine voice spoke.

I moaned and tried to pull away from the warm hand on my forehead. I didn’t want to wake up. I was comfortable. I wanted to sleep. She should go away.

“You need to wake up, beautiful. Please.”

That voice was masculine. Familiar. Still, I didn’t want to listen.

Not until sharp pain radiated up my leg and made me sit up with a scream. I reached to pull my leg away from whomever had decided to lift it, only to have my hands knocked away. “Stop!”

“Ginger, let them help.” The masculine voice spoke softly at my ear. Then a strong arm wrapped around my shoulders.

Safe.

That one word resonated in my addled brain.

So I turned into the embrace and breathed deeply. A woodsy scent filled my nose. Made me moan softly. Snuggle deeper into the firm chest beside me.

And then I started crying as everything rushed back. The wedding plans disaster. The test results. The storm. Why I was in pain. Who was holding me.

It was a soft sniffle at first, but it increased to full-on sobbing in mere seconds.

“Shh, it’ll be okay,” Darryl whispered against my hair. “I’m right here.”

I let out all of my frustration as I rested against him, clutching his shirt. And he let me.

After a few minutes, he pulled away a bit and brushed my hair out of my face. “Hey, beautiful. Can we get you home?”

I blinked up at him. Noticed there were flashlights being shined on us. That there were three other people with us; two men and a woman. Malcolm, Stefan, Becca.

“Do you want us to help carry her?” Malcolm asked.

“I’ve got her.” Darryl stood and easily lifted me into his arms princess-style.

We were in the backseat of Becca’s car heading back to her house when I found my voice, even though it sounded like I’d swallowed a frog. “How did you find me?”

Becca held up a phone from her seat on the other side of me. “Darryl used the lost phone app to track it. It was in the grasses just down from the house out front.”

“That close, huh? All this time?” I just shook my head and put it back on Darryl’s shoulder. I yawned. “I want to tell you—”

“Rest, beautiful.” Darryl stroked my hair, lulling me even further.

I barely remembered him carrying me upstairs to the guestroom. Peeling my now-stiffly dried clothes off me and putting warm clothes on. Feeding me some pills. Tucking me into bed. Climbing in beside me. Holding me and whispering that everything was going to be okay.

The last thought that ran though my mind was we’d missed the rehearsal and crab boil.

—

The sun was shining in the open bedroom window when I opened my eyes. I yawned and stretched.

Then I groaned. Every bone ached. My hair felt stiff.

Sitting up and pulling back the covers, I noticed my left ankle was wrapped and propped up on a pillow. I started to tear up—remembering last night—when the door creaked open. I quickly wiped my hands across my eyes and pasted on a smile.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Darryl sat beside me, kissing me softly. “Did you sleep well?”

“I guess. I don’t remember dreaming.”

“Malcolm and Stefan left to get your parents from the airport. I want you to relax today, okay?”

Easier said than done. “We missed the rehearsal—”

“It’s okay. I think we’ll pass the test.”

Fuck. The test.

I gripped his arm, pushing down the butterflies. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, beautiful.”

“It’s important.” Oh, God. Get me through this.

Darryl searched my face. His smile faded. “I’m listening.”

I was unable to look at him. Unable to keep my voice from catching. “W-we c-can’t have k-kids.”

“I don’t understand.”

Take a deep breath. Take two. You can do it.

“I can’t give you kids.”

“Shh, you don’t know that.” He brushed his fingers down my cheek. “We’ll keep trying.”

“No.” I shook my head, swallowing a lump in my throat.

His hand fell to his lap. “You don’t want to keep trying?”

Closing my eyes for a moment did not give me the strength I thought it would. When I opened them, I had to stare at the ceiling until I could force myself to stare into his eyes even though I wanted to avoid seeing the pain on his face. Somehow, my voice remained even despite the tears brimming my eyes. “I got tested before we left. I just found out last night. I can’t have kids at all.”

“Oh, Ginger.”

Then there it was. The immediate shift of his gaze to anywhere but me. The frown. The way his whole body seemed to deflate as his shoulders hunched.

I closed my eyes again, unwilling to see the results of the final blow. It felt like my heart would stop beating, but I had to give him the option. “So I would understand if you don’t want to ma—”

“Stop! Don’t finish that sentence. Look at me.” When I didn’t…couldn’t…he tipped my chin up with his finger. Waited until I opened my eyes. “I love you, Ginger. I want to marry you. Whether we can have kids or not. There are other ways. Okay?”

I blinked, nodding.

He wiped away some stray tears that managed to escape. Cupped my cheeks. “We will get through this. Together.”

Nodding again, I sighed when he kissed me. Hugged me. I gripped his biceps and just clung to him as he held me for a few minutes. When he sat back, I smiled sadly up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He kissed me again. “Understand?”

“Mmhmm.” I did not deserve this man.

“I know a bunch of stuff hasn’t gone our way.” His thumbs brushed across my skin, making me shiver a little. “But come hell or highwater, I’m marrying you tonight at sunset. So, my beautiful bride, let’s get you cleaned up so the girls can pamper you. Okay?”

I nodded once more, smiling wider.

—

A few hours later, I felt like a new person. Rested. Showered. Dressed in a robe. Makeup applied except for my lipstick.

Munching on strawberries, grapes, and slices of cantaloupe and pineapple.

Imbibing on champagne.

Floating while Daphne arranged my hair.

I was drifting on the edge of subspace just from the calming effects her fingers and the comb were emitting. Hers and Becca’s voices were mere mumbles of unintelligible conversation. Thankfully, they didn’t try to involve me.

The view out the expansive living room window was breathtaking. One would never have known a storm had rolled through yesterday. Waves casually cascaded against the beach. There was not a cloud in the sky. Even the tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze.

The men had positioned the arch. My mom was now directing them on how to arrange the gossamer just right as Malcolm and Stefan stood on ladders on either side. My dad and Darryl were nearby, looking comical as they appeared to be critiquing the work with the way they were waving their hands and shaking their heads each time the other guys would change something.

The flowers were all arranged in vases on the kitchen counter. Ready to take out to the tables that were also set up. The centerpieces sparkled in the sunlight.

It was perfect.

A tear threatened to leak out when I sniffed.

“Hey, none of that!” Becca appeared before me and dabbed at my eyes with a tissue. “It may be waterproof mascara, but let’s not test it, okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I grinned lazily at her.

She just rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to need to snap out of it if you’re walking down that aisle,” Daphne said, straightening my head so I was looking at the wall instead of Becca.

More like hobbling. That made me frown.

Darryl and I had planned to go barefoot. I had not accounted for a sprained ankle on my wedding day. But here we were.

There was a silver lining, though. My mom was a retired ER nurse. She’d checked out my foot shortly after she’d arrived…and insisted I keep it elevated and iced for as long as possible.

That meant I’d been stationed on the couch in the living room all day long while everyone else bustled around me. Not that I would have been doing anything different if my foot had been fine. I just felt like I was useless instead of merely trying to stay out of the way.

She’d checked my ankle just an hour ago and said the swelling had gone down completely. But I wasn’t to put any pressure on it yet.

Worst case, I would use the crutches Stefan had gone into town to borrow from the pharmacy. The guys had even rigged a plywood path to lie on top of the sand if I needed it.

Very worst case, in my opinion.

“All done!” Daphne held a mirror up to my face, bringing my thoughts back to the here and now, not what might be.

Becca bent down so her face reflected back, too. “Gorgeous!”

I smiled at them both, turning my head left to right. My namesake hair was gathered on top of my head in a ponytail with ringlets cascading down past my shoulders. A pearl band hid the elastic and complimented the double strand around my neck and matching two-pearl earrings set my father had given me this afternoon.

“I’ll get the guys to carry you to the other room so we can all get dressed,” Becca said with a squeeze to my shoulders.

As soon as she was gone, I turned to Daphne. “Thank you for all your help this week.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.” She paused as she gathered her stuff together.

“I’m sorry you had another false alarm.” I put a hand on her arm and waited until she looked at me. “I know that feeling of waiting for something you really want and not getting it.”

Daphne just nodded, gave me a soft smile, and finished cleaning the table off.

She’d made the announcement to Becca and I just before breakfast. It had been heartbreaking. Her face had already been red when she’d arrived, evident that she’d already been crying this morning. You wouldn’t know it now with her flawless her make-up. Guess no matter where she was or how she was feeling, she could step into that model role when called to.

It was almost romantic how Malcolm walked in from outside, swept me up into his arms with a big grin, and carried me down the hall to the den. The girls followed after, all of us laughing. Once I was deposited on the settee, the ladies helped me get dressed before dressing themselves.

Someone knocked on the door thirty minutes later. It cracked open, and a rusty-haired man popped his head in. “Are we decent in here?”

“Hi, Daddy!” I reached up from my spot on a stool someone had brought into the room and gave my dad a hug when he leaned down to me.

“Hello, Princess.” He kissed my cheek and stood back, glancing around the room. “Everyone looks beautiful. I heard there’s a wedding today.”

“You heard correctly!” I grinned. “And we’re all ready. You can let everyone know.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” He saluted me with a grin and headed back out into the hallway.

Malcolm appeared a few minutes later and carried me to the French doors in the living room. Becca had lowered the blinds on the door and all the windows to prevent anyone from seeing me. I couldn’t even see out.

Now, I stood with my bouquet clutched in one hand and my dad’s arm in the other.

It was the first time I’d been on my foot since last night. It was mostly achy than anything. And my mind was focused on what was going to happen outside more than how I was feeling, anyway.

I was nixing the crutches. But I’d kept the bandage wrapped around my ankle. Just for support.

One by one, Becca, Daphne, and Malcolm kissed my cheek and headed outside down to the sandy area just beyond the front porch and the white picket fence lined with sea grasses separating the property from the beach.

I caught glimpses of the white gossamer on the arch blowing in the breeze as the door closed again. Noticed how the sky was still blue but was edging toward that darker shade just before the sun started to make its descent.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” my dad whispered in my ear as he gave me another hug, careful of my dress and flowers. “Darryl is a lucky man.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I’m very lucky to have him, too.”

“Then let’s do this!”

He opened the door, and I heard Orianthi’s “Anybody Else” start from the portable sound system.

I felt like a beacon was calling my heart the second we stepped out onto the porch. My eyes flew up the aisle between the small group of people standing on either side and landed on the most handsome man I’d ever met.

Darryl had worn the black pants from his tux, but he’d opted for not wearing the jacket and keeping his white dress shirt untucked. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off the tattoos on his forearms. The only color was a dark-blue lily corsage in his shirt pocket. His lips were spread in the biggest grin under his manicured beard.

My cheeks were going to be so sore tomorrow from smiling so much. And damn it, the tears were going to come no matter how hard I tried to keep them at bay.

I saw no one but my fiancé as we descended the steps to the sand, crossed over to the aisle, and walked toward the arch. Everything else faded away. And then my dad was kissing my cheek and moving my hand from his arm to Darryl’s outstretched one.

Don’t ask me what the chaplain said. How I remembered my vows. Remained standing with weak knees when Darryl promised his. Kept my hand still as he slid my ring on my third finger. Didn’t drop the ring when I slid it on his finger.

The sun was just reaching the horizon when Darryl whispered, “Now we are bound in every way, my beautiful wife.”

I closed my eyes as our lips met and his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I wanted to stay like that forever.

But the chaplain’s voice interrupted our private moment. “I now present Mr. and Mrs. Collum.”

And the rest of the world rushed in with an uproar of cheers and clapping.

I blinked away tears. Felt like I was floating as we turned and walked back down the aisle before being surrounded by family and friends hugging and offering well wishes.

Everyone moved over to the tables and chairs that had been set up, the battery-powered candles in the centerpieces glowing in the growing dusk. My mom made sure my left foot was elevated on a stool just in case, making me promise to ask for help if I needed anything.

The catered food was delicious. The conversation was delightful. And my husband’s roaming hand on my thigh under the table was making me a bit delirious. But I loved it all.

When dinner was done, we toasted champagne. Fed each other our cupcakes. We did not plan to have anyone do speeches, although Becca and Malcolm had stood up as our witnesses during the ceremony. We also opted not to have me dance with my dad since Darryl’s mom couldn’t make it.

That just left our first dance together. Darryl took my hand and helped me to an open space on the sand. He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me close as our chosen song, Chris Daughtry’s “Deep End,” played. Halfway through, I laid my head on his shoulder. I got lost in the music and the mood; the night.

“I love you, Ginger,” Darryl whispered in my ear. “I’m so happy you’re my wife.”

“I love you, too, Darryl.” I lifted my head to kiss him. “I’m so happy you’re my husband.”

After the song ended, he swept me up in his arms and started toward the house.

“Uh, we still have guests!” I laughed, securing my arms around his neck.

“It’s okay. I have a surprise for you. They know. We’ll be back soon.”

I arched an eyebrow. Kept my mouth shut as he put me in the passenger seat of his car and then drove us toward the row of trees out of the cul-de-sac. But when he turned left and then left again down another row of trees just up the road, I sat up.

“Darryl!”

“Ginger.” He pulled the car into the drive at the center house. A house that looked vaguely familiar.

Then it hit me. “What are we doing here?”

“This is what Malcolm wanted to show me yesterday.”

“Wait, why did he want to show you the abandoned house I found shelter in last night?”

“Well, it’s not abandoned anymore. Surprise!”

I slowly turned to him, seeing his grin in the moonlight. “Explain. Now.”

“It’s ours. Well, it will be when we close in two weeks.”

No. No he did not. Not without asking me first.