I followed Bryn up the stairs, hands locked, before she darted behind the first open door we found and locked us in a bathroom. “Are you fucking kidding me, Brodie Merrick?”
I shook my head. Hands at her waist. “I wish I was.”
“You know for sure he was an escort?”
I nodded, unable to say the words she’d just said.
“So…” She hopped up on the counter, planting her ass on the edge and dangling her feet. “I can’t believe my snobby stuck-up sister just married a high-end escort? “
I rested my hands at her waist, nestling my hips between her thighs. “Looks like it.”
“Well damn..” She curled her hands around my neck. “You think she knows?”
“She could have met him there,” I offered.
“Oh my God!” She covered her mouth adorably. “You’re right.”
Her eyes were so wide I had the urge to kiss the shocked expression right off her face.
“What’d I say about filling that open mouth?” I tipped her mouth closed, the offer too tempting.
She arched a playful eyebrow before continuing. “I don’t think she knows… So…should we tell her?”
“We?” I pulled her a little closer to the edge, sliding a hand under the hem of her dress. “I’m just the messenger. Do with the information what you will.”
“You’re terrible, Brodie.”
My fingers made contact with her hot pussy. “I’m addicted.”
I pushed my fingers, coating in her sweet juices, passed my lips. “Mmm. Never washing the scent of your sweet pussy off my fingers.”
Her eyes burned back at me, twinkling and sparkling with something I couldn’t quite place. “You keep me on my toes, Brodie, no doubt about that.”
“And keep you screaming with orgasms. I’d say we’ve got a good thing going. Now let’s finish brunch so we can get back to the city. We’ve got to get you a ring.”
“A ring?! Brodie!” she squealed when I grabbed her face, covering her pretty lips with a kiss meant to fill her mouth. Shut her up. Remind her she was mine.
“What’d I say about filling that pretty mouth?”
First Epilogue
Bryn
Days melted into weeks, weeks into a month, before Brodie and I were standing at our own altar.
Though it looked nothing like my sister’s.
Brodie and I had taken off into the mountains, rented a cabin, and gotten married overlooking a sparkling lake.
It wasn’t the grand affair my sister had had, but that wasn’t Brodie or me.
We’d wanted the day we exchanged our vows to reflect us, our relationship, our love alone.
And it did.
Brodie made sure of that.
He’d pulled out all of the stops, hiring a photographer, a violinist, and even a boat captain to take us out on the gentle waves and exchange our vows. It was the most incredible experience of my life. While we’d initially talked about eloping by ourselves, I’d finally decided that while my family irritated me to no end, it just wouldn’t be the same without them, and apparently Brodie had known that, because he’d gone out of his way to sneak my parents and grandparents into the ceremony. Our only witnesses were the dozen people that we loved and cherished the most.
And then we could send them home and have this mountain cabin to ourselves.
I figured that’d been Brodie’s plan all along.
I’d quickly learned that when he set his mind on something, he stopped at nothing until he got it, and that had included me.
But lucky for him I loved being owned by him. I loved the way he made my body feel. I loved the way he made my heart feel. I loved the way he made me feel, period.
And what had my parents said when I’d confessed Brodie and I were getting married?
Well, I never did blurt it out that day at brunch like I was supposed to, and Brodie had punished me for it after, landing six mind-numbingly blissful smacks on my ass once we’d gotten back to my room that day, just like I’d hoped for. But soon after, Brodie said not telling was better. This way he could do it the right way—the traditional way.
Traditional.
I never dreamed I’d hear that word coming from Brodie’s mouth.
But turns out when it came to certain things—his love for me, mostly—he was very traditional.
So traditional that he asked my father for my hand in marriage.
Hearing the story after made me melt, making me more sure than ever that he was the man for me.
Then there was the situation with my sister. I never told her about Max. Not because I didn’t believe Brodie—in fact, it made more sense than ever, and I knew I had only to ask Brodie’s brother for the proof. But I didn’t want to do that for my sister’s sake. I didn’t think she could handle knowing. And if she did know, and she had met him there, then I figured she didn’t want me or anyone knowing about it anyhow. And perhaps Max had moved on from that life. He was obviously trying to better himself by working in the computer field.