“Just to clear the judge’s schedule so we can get in and get out.”
I hesitate as I realize something else. “You have favors to call in?”
“I’m here all the time as a trial lawyer. As such, I’ve made a lot of friends.”
“I do have lunch to get to,” the judge declares. “Shall we begin?”
We’re given some paperwork to fill out and we do so without complaint. We hand it back to the judge, who then starts to read the usual spiel about solemnly swearing to love and hold one another, with all the flare that follows.
“Do you take Olivia Young as your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” Cameron says, no hesitation.
“And do you take Cameron Smith as your husband?”
I swallow, but nod. “I do.”
“Then I announce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
And I manage to be surprised when Cameron goes for it, despite the judge announcing that’s what he’s about to do.
His lips on my own, goddamn. It’s an explosion of delight. He keeps it tasteful and romantic since we have an audience, but even this brief moment, the very first kiss we share, enthralls me and makes me yearn for what else he can do to me.
The bailiff whistles and claps, being the only witness of our ceremony outside the judge himself.
I’m red in the face at the whole thing.
Then Cameron pulls something out of his pocket. A small velvet box.
I look at him with astonishment. “Another ring?”
“I said I’m going to do this right, Olivia. And you need a wedding ring to go with your engagement ring.”
So overwhelmed, I can’t help myself anymore. I break out in laughter as he slides the wedding ring on top of my engagement ring.
The absurdity of the situation is just too much for me to handle as I cackle loudly.
I’m married. To a man I met an hour ago.
6
CAMERON
I drive my bride back to my condo, her laughing and smiling the whole way. I’m feeling much the same, but I’m a lot better at stifling my urge for mad laughter about the whole thing.
“This... this is a nice place,” she says as I pull into the driveway, in awe of my residence.
We step out of the car and I lead her in. Her eyes are sweeping over the entire place. “It’s huge too. My apartment feels so small in comparison.”
“I thought you were doing pretty well for yourself.”
“I mean, I am. Fashion columnist isn’t exactly a seven-figure job, though, and I live downtown. My apartment is just a closet compared to this palace.”
Going into the kitchen, I invite her to have a seat. “I’m not worried about us being financial equals. I just don’t want this to be a case where you’re destitute and desperate and thus I hold all the power over you.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m doing well. Not ‘fancy condo and rings for women I just met’ well, but I’m not starving.”
I pull out some champagne from the fridge and pop the cork. I was saving this particular bottle for a special occasion, and I can’t think of a more special occasion than my own wedding.
I fill our glasses. “A toast. To us, our mad plan, and all of it working out for us somehow.”
“Yes, to us.” Our glasses clink and we both take big drinks and start our journey to getting a bit drunk.
If we made the decision we just did sober, I can’t wait to see what we do when we’re drunk.
I crack open my fridge again. It’s pretty empty right now because I’ve been putting off doing any real grocery shopping for quite some time. But I do have some strawberries in there. I usually blend them into my workout smoothies to add some natural flavor to them. Combined with the chocolate-flavored whey? It’s a treat that my anticipation for gets me through some tough sessions.
“Pardon me for not having something more, but would you like some strawberries?”
“Sure, I’d love some.”
I bring the container over to the table and sit by her side with them. “Fresh and ripe. I get them from the local farmer’s market.”
She eyeballs them. “They look really good.”
I crack open the plastic and pull one out. Staring right at her, I drift the berry over her lips, which open a bit for me. Her tongue pops out, licking the berry up and down. Her stare shifts to one that’s not so concerned with the sweetness of the fruit.
With a lip sucking sound, she takes the strawberry from me and continues to eat it. Her tongue laps over the redness of it, sucking the juice from it. Taking it into her mouth all the way with only the green stem remaining, she draws it back and forth out of her lips, all while looking dead at me with the most obvious stare ever.
Then she moans, and I don’t think it’s because of just how good the strawberry is.
“Well, well, well, are you trying to suggest something to me, my dear Olivia?”
“Perhaps. Maybe. Just a little.”
“Would you like something else to suck on?”
“Perhaps. Maybe. Yes.”
I stand up. She stands up too.
The tension between us is so damn thick. Something is about to explode.
She leaps into my arms. I catch her. We kiss.
It’s not a slight, romantic kiss this time, something that wouldn’t befoul a church. No. It’s full. It’s passionate. Our tongues meet, intertwining. She tastes so damn delicious, and I’m not talking about the lingering remnants of strawberry juice.
I carry her out to my living room and place her on my couch. The way we’re looking at one another, we can’t really deny it anymore.
It’s time to indulge in one another.
She unbuttons her blouse, revealing silky smooth skin beneath it. She’s dressed nicely, but it’s not what you’d expect for a wedding night. I’d be very surprised if she did have on the frilly white lace underwear expected of a bride.
I do my part too, unbuttoning my shirt bit by bit. Usually when I want to enrapture a woman, I make sure to do my workout before the date so that my muscles are primed to show off if things get that far. Obviously, I didn’t do that today. But with the way Olivia is looking at me as I drop my shirt, I don’t think it’s necessary, anyway.
She unleashes her tits soon after, and goddamn, they are absolutely beautiful things to lay my eyes on. I lick my lips at the sight of them, running a curious hand down her body, holding their softness, and confirming that I just married the hottest girl in the world.
Olivia isn’t going to be distracted, though. She wants to make good on the ideas she put in my head with the strawberry, grabbing hold of my belt and stripping it away before clawing at my slacks to pull them down my legs and reveal the generous bulge pressing against my boxer-briefs.
She runs her touch around that fabric, and the tingling sensation is too much. Fuck, she’s got magic hands. I shudder just from her touch, and she slides off the sofa, down in front of me on her knees. She licks her lips, as if she hasn’t teased me enough about this.
She pulls down my boxers and reveals my throbbing erection right in her face, and meets it with a smile. She’s a dirty girl who knows what she wants. And really, I’m here for it. I wanted a woman, not a girl, and Olivia is proving to be every ounce of woman I could ever desire.