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Pressing the heel of my palm down on my unwanted erection, I inwardly scold the thing for gettin’ riled up when all I’m doin’ is thinkin’ about her. He’s a fuckin’ menace. The motherfucker gets harder more now than it did when I was a teen. I get a whiff of her peaches-and-cream scent. Boner. I think of her naked. He’s awake. I kiss her. Stiffy. If I didn’t like the fucker, I’d be embarrassed by his constant appearance. Then again, I can’t blame the guy. He’s as much in love as I am. The only difference is, I get to indulge in what’s mine, while he sits the bench.
Pattin’ his head for takin’ one for the team, I promise him action soon enough, when I’m ready. Until then… achy balls are how we roll.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
KIT
Barefoot and thoughtful, Bink paces her living room, phone in hand. “I say go for it.” She’s talking about the tattoo I’m supposed to get with Gunz. After another successful oral session with my partner, I’m starting to refer to him as the magic man, I went over a bit of work at home before dropping by Bink’s place for another wedding planning party. We’ve had three so far. Yes, you heard me. Three. Bink’s a firecracker, on top of every little detail. She also cares far more than I do about the wedding. I couldn’t care less about what flowers we have, the cake, the food, or my dress. I’d be happy to elope somewhere. It was Gunz’s idea to get the sisters involved, and involved they are.
Jade, Loretta, Tati, Debbie, Janie, and Jezebel are all present, spread around Bink’s living room.
Each sister was given a folder with the Sacred Sinner emblem on the front. Hot pink ones, as Bink is obsessed with the color. So far, we’ve gone over the stack of papers within the folder. Since I’m against the traditional wedding party of bridesmaids, she’s decided the sisters are going to coordinate clothes for the occasion. They were given a selection to choose from. Apparently, Big is ordained, so he’ll not only be Gunz’s best man, but our officiant. That’s news to me. I’m pretty sure it’s news to her old man as well, as she’s fielding texts from him that range from amused to downright fuming. Bink’s been sharing them with the crowd.
She’s having a ball.
I’m happy she’s happy.
Gunz was right when he said the sisters needed something to occupy them since everything’s happened. Jade is more present today than I’ve seen her in weeks. Loretta is still… Loretta. Wild and fun as ever. Tati’s playing with Dom, as she doesn’t care much for planning things. Few teens would. I’m doing what I do best, sitting on Bink’s comfy leather couch, conversing with a talkative Harley. Well, I’m listening as she babbles nonsense that I pretend to understand. Then I reply like I do. This thrills her to no end.
Sipping from a travel tumbler I brought from home, Harley pats the side of my cup, eyeing it like she needs a sip. Not wanting her to share my germs, I rest it on the floor to keep it out of arm’s reach.
The one-year-old grumbles at me, wearing the cutest scowl, which I imagine is more her father than mother.
“If you are thirsty, Miss Lady, I’m sure we can get you something to drink,” I explain.
In response, the blonde cutie babbles.
“Oh. Right. You want water too?” I pretend to understand, and she nods as if she’s following right along and agreeing.
Carting the toddler on my hip, the way moms do, we leave the sisters to their devices and seek a sippy cup for Miss Lady. Not wanting to disturb Bink, and knowing she isn’t gonna care if I go through her kitchen cupboards, I open them one by one until I find what I seek. With the cutie’s help, we fill her butterfly cup with water from the fridge, tighten the lid, and I hand it to her. All the while, Harley babbles on, telling me her life stories.
“I think I like water that much, too,” I comment as we return to the living room to find their pitbull named Pretzel on the couch cushion we vacated. I shoo him to the side, and he listens as well as Chibs, and gives us just enough room to retake our spot before his head ends up on my lap. His little owner rubs the spot between his floppy ears with one hand as she uses the other to hold her sippy in place to drink until she’s gasping for breath.
I massage her tiny back. “Big breaths, big girl. I can get you more when you’re done.” I chuckle, remembering times like this with Adam. Him and his blue dinosaur sippy. They were inseparable. He wouldn’t drink from anything but that sippy for a year.
When Miss Lady is done, she hands me her empty cup, and I rest it on the floor beside mine. As she plays with Pretzel, I dial back into whatever the sisters are discussing about my pending nuptials.
In front of an enormous fireplace, Bink continues to pace as she speaks. “Debbie already has the cuts complete.” She’s talking to Jezebel, our clipboard holder. Jez’s hands move quickly, taking in notes or checking things off as Bink commands attention. I owe her for this. Planning my first wedding was more about my ex’s family and their expectations than anything he or I wanted. It was too large, with far too many guests I didn’t know, and about as traditional as you could get. In a church, white gown, black tux, fall colors, a fancy meal, three-tiered all-white cake. I went along because that’s what’s expected. You’re quiet. You’re submissive. Only I’ve never been any of those things. It took a lot of years of fitting myself into a box for everyone else before I realized I couldn’t do it anymore.
This I can do. I can marry Gunz. I can watch my son,ourson, work with his father every day. I can eat dinner with my guys each night. We can go through shit, ugly shit, and he’ll still have my back. Gunz doesn’t expect me to bend, to fit into whatever perfect, little box he’s designed. He has no expectations. Sure, things are sometimes messy. Nothing’s perfect. But I’ve never been happier.
Speak of the devil, my phone chimes with a new text. This one’s not from Adam. Since I might have told him to slap his father silly for suggesting the ring tattoos, right after he ran away. Silly man. I’m still not gonna bend in that regard. A tattoo, sure. Matching rings. No thanks.
Have fun with the sisters, love. I look forward to eating more of your sweet pussy tonight and you reading me more BDB.
Biting my bottom lip, I smile like the lovesick teenager I’ve become. My stomach gets all wonky as I reread his message.
A chorus of womanly awes rings loud and clear. I glance up from my screen to see the sisters staring at me, all smiling. Jez makes googly eyes. Jade winks. Bink does a small dance in a circle, flapping her hands.
“I can’t believe he’s getting married!” she cheers.
“I can’t either.” Debbie’s kind, aged smile mimics my own. Except she’s not blushing. My cheeks are on fire. I’m not used to being the center of attention.
Not knowing how to take this intense sisterly love without wanting to cry, I fuss with Harley. I comb my fingers through her silken hair, massage her back, and scratch the pup to distract myself.
Knowing me as well as she does, Loretta pulls the same crap she does at therapy to take the heat off. Sex talk. Only this time, she talks about…
“Did you guys know Gunz likes kitchen sex?” The bitch cackles, making eye contact with me.
