Page 150 of Big D!ck Energy

“I'm playing the long game.”

We crested a small hill, and our cabin came into view, a warm glow spilling from the windows, the porch light casting a welcoming pool of gold across the front steps. It looked like something from a fairy tale. A place where happy endings lived.

“I can't believe this is real,” I said softly. “Today. This place. You.”

Dallas stopped walking, turning to face me. In the dying light, his eyes were dark and serious.

“It's real,” he said. “All of it. The wedding, the dress, the proposal, the Elvis accountant. But mostly this.” He lifted our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “You and me. Forever.”

“Dallas…”

“I love you, Davina. I'll love you long after I've forgotten everything else.” He smiled. “Now. I believe there's a tradition I need to uphold.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he swept me up into his arms.

I yelped, grabbing at his shoulders. “Dallas!”

“Threshold,” he explained, already striding toward the cabin door. “Gotta carry the bride over the threshold. It's tradition.”

“We did this a year ago!”

“Did we? We don’t remember it, so it doesn't count.” He shifted me in his arms, adjusting his grip so my dress wouldn't drag. “This is the official threshold carrying. The one that goes in the record books.”

“There are no record books for threshold carrying.”

“There should be. I'd be a champion.”

He somehow managed to open the door without setting me down, a feat of dexterity I decided not to question, and carried me over the threshold into the warm, lamplit interior of our cabin. The fireplace had been lit while we were at the reception, casting flickering shadows across the walls. A bottle of champagne sat chilling in an ice bucket on the coffee table, two crystal flutes waiting beside it.

But Dallas didn't stop in the living room.

He kept walking, carrying me through the space I'd stumbled out of that morning in confused ignorance, straight to the bedroom door.

“In a hurry?” I asked, my voice coming out breathier than intended.

“I've been watching you in that dress for six hours.” His own voice had dropped. “I've been thinking about getting you out of that dress for six hours. So yes. I'm in a hurry.”

“The dress was your idea.”

“And it was an excellent idea. You look incredible. You've looked incredible all day, and I've had to share you with other people.” He kicked the bedroom door open with his foot. “I'm done sharing.”

Dallas set me down at the foot of the bed, his hands lingering on my waist. We stood there for a moment, just breathing each other in. The silence felt charged, electric, full of promise.

“Hi,” he said again, that word that had become our shorthand for a thousand deeper things.

“Hi.”

His fingers found the zipper at the back of my dress. “Can I?”

“Please.”

He turned me gently, brushing my curls aside to expose my neck that I let down hours ago. I felt his lips there first before his fingers found the zipper and began to draw it down. The dress loosened around me, the structured bodice giving way as the zipper descended.

“I love you,” he murmured against my skin.

“I know.” I turned in his arms, letting the dress slip from my shoulders. “I love you too.”

His eyes darkened as he took me in, standing there in nothing but the lingerie I'd packed for our anniversary. White lace. Delicate straps.