Page 107 of Dreaming of Dawson

Now I know how much she enjoyed being taken that hard, it’s something I intend doing again. Not all the time, of course. But from time to time… when she’s least expecting it.

There are still twenty minutes until the ceremony is due to begin, and I haven’t let go of Macy’s hand since we got here. That’s partly because I like there to be some kind of connection between us, no matter where we are. But it’s also because this is Peony’s place, and I’ll admit I’m nervous. I’m bound to see her at some stage today, and I’m dreading it.

“Don’t look so worried,” Macy whispers, leaning up slightly, so I can hear her.

“How did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face.” I try to change my expression, but she just shakes her head, presumably to let meknow it’s not working, and then she rests her head against my shoulder, and says, “It’ll be okay. I’m here.”

That’s about the most comforting thing I’ve ever heard, and I put my arm around her, feeling her perfect body mold to mine. Her dress is stunning, although I was blown away by what’s underneath it. I think the quickie proved that, and I have to smile, trying to control my reaction to the memory of her divine ass, framed by that lacy garter belt as I took her so damn hard. Even so, I love this dress, and the way it looks on her. It’s a very pale pink, with darker pink flowers sewn onto the fitted bodice, and scattered over the flowing skirt, and I’ve never felt more proud than I do at this moment, to have someone so beautiful in my arms.

She tenses slightly, and I look down, wondering what’s wrong, as I notice she’s staring across the room. I follow the line of her gaze, my eyes alighting on Peony, who’s standing over by the door. Her hair is as untamed as ever, which suits the pale blue flowing dress she’s wearing. Beside her is a tall guy, who I guess must be her husband. His suit looks handmade, even from here, and he’s carrying a baby in one arm, while the other is wrapped around Peony. He bends his head, whispering something to her, before he takes her hand and surprises me by pulling her in our direction.

“They’re coming over,” I whisper and Macy looks up at me, twisting out of my arms to take my hand.

“Yeah, they are.”

I suck in a breath, drawing strength from her before I glance back at Peony. She looks terrified, and I feel bad about that. It’s my fault, after all, and I’m the only one here who can do anything about it.

I step forward, bringing Macy with me, because while Peony’s husband has helped her make the first move, it’s down to me to complete it.

I smile at her right before we meet, and it seems that’s all it takes for her to relax, her lips twisting upward.

“I’m sorry,” I say before she can even open her mouth.

“What for?”

“The silence. It was my fault.”

“I was the one who stayed away,” she says, shaking her head.

“Maybe. But I could have made it easier for you.”

“Did you blame me for what happened?” she asks, like she needs to know why I’ve let the silence linger for so long.

“Hell, no. I just let it get to me too much. But you weren’t to blame, Peony.”

Macy leans up and says, “Neither were you, Dawson.”

“I know,” I say, bending my head to kiss her cheek. “Thanks to you.”

“We haven’t been introduced,” Peony’s husband says, turning to me and maybe sensing we could all use a change of subject. “I’m Ryan Andrews.”

“We might never have met, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Not all bad, I hope.”

“None of it bad, as it happens.”

He smiles and shifts his son slightly. “You haven’t met Rory, either, have you?” he says and I shake my head, reaching out and caressing the infant’s soft cheek.

“No.”

I let my hand fall again, wondering if our silence might be about to return, when Ryan says, “I understand you and Tanner go back a long way?”

“Further than I care to remember.” He chuckles, when a thought suddenly occurs to me, and I turn to Peony. “I’ve just realized… I’ve been so disconnected from reality until recently, it’s never occurred to me to ask how Tanner’s gonna get here. Nash can hardly drive them, can he? He’s only eight.”

She smiles. “Tanner’s driving them himself.”

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