Page 62 of Never Yours

“Are you sure?”

He follows me onto the pontoon and takes me in his arms. “I would’ve married you the night you came back into town.”

“Yeah, he would’ve,” Cass chimes in, taking a seat, thankfully not on the chase that will forever be burned into my brain as a sex-chair.

Travis runs down the dock with Smitten and Inferno. “I’m here!”

Cass looks up and, if I’m not mistaken, is checking him out. Even I’ll admit, Travis looks good in jeans and a tee, but there’s something about a man in expertly fitted slacks and a crisp button-down.

Smitten and Inferno leap into the boat and Smitten takes a seat next to Cass—always wanting to be by Darcy’s side. With Pop and Ethan already on the pontoon, I sit in the captain’s chair and start the motor. Caleb comes up behind me, presses a chaste kiss to my neck, and says quietly beside my ear, “You’re in my seat.”

“It’s fine, I can’t crash the boat in the middle of the lake,” I laugh, but Caleb’s face goes white as he glances at Darcy and back to me. Shit! “Cay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. You can drive if you want.”

He takes a deep breath. “No, it’s okay. But once Travis and I untie the boat from the dock, I’m going to be right here.”

“Deal.” I grip the front of his shirt and bring his lips to mine.

Cay and Travis get everything untied, and we make our way into the middle of the lake. The sun is still warm and bright, but it’s the perfect late afternoon on the water.

I turn off the engine, and Travis lowers the anchor. Ethan stands and takes out a few note cards. “Ready when you are,” he chuckles, and Caleb and I stand in front of him. “We are gathered here today…”

Through Ethan’s words, I whisper to Caleb, “You were my first, Cay… and I want you to be my last.”

epilogue

. . .

Caleb

Three Years Later

“Cay, we have exactly fifty-five minutes until Sebastian is up from his nap, and then we have to pick up Darcy from preschool.” Ingrid strips off her tank top and tosses it to the ground. “You wrecked my pussy last night, so you’ll need to get creative.”

I move over to the dresser and pull out our nylon rope. “If you’re tied to our bed, I can do whatever the fuck I want, princess.”

Her eyes widen. “That’s not fair. I’m sore!”

“That’s okay, I’ll kiss it better.”

“Cay,” she groans, “I meant that I’ll give you a blowie, or you can put it in my ass.”

“Who says I can’t make you come on my tongue, then my cock, and I finish in your mouth or your ass?” I shrug, but she doesn’t find it the least bit amusing. We read a book together where the man made the woman come ten times. I took it as a challenge, but Ingrid tapped out after eight.

She still owes me two more…

“That is the last time we buddy read a book together.” She crosses her arms over her chest, her perfect breasts now spilling out of her bra. I salivate at the sight, needing to taste her, right fucking now.

I stalk over to her, throwing the rope onto the bed. Taking her face in my hands, I roughly kiss her, reaching to the middle of her back to free her of the pointless clothing. Her bra falls to the ground, and I waste no time twisting one of her nipples between my fingers. She gasps into my mouth as I pinch harder. Fifty-five minutes is plenty to take my time with her.

Ingrid reaches between us and palms my cock through my pants. I’m not taking them off until she comes for me. I’ll be gentle with her pussy, but I know she needs me to be rough everywhere else. Gripping her wrist, I pull it behind her back, and she nips my lip in response.

“You’re getting greedy, wife. How are you going to sit for hours tomorrow at the Silver Globes, after I’ve marked that perfect ass of yours?”

“Fifty-three minutes, husband.”

A growl rumbles in my chest at her calling me that, but it only makes her laugh. Not wanting to waste another moment, I wrap the rope around her wrists and tie it tight enough that she won’t be able to get out of it on her own. Tossing her further onto the bed, I grip her leggings and tear them down, then press her knees to the mattress, spreading her wide for me.

“What the fuck is this?”

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