“There’s no fun in hard truths, so I always choose the dare.” ~Johnny Outlaw
A jet is on stand-by. We’re Vegas bound. No luggage or doubts holding us back. We leave straight from Tracy’s reception. As we take off into the night sky, I ask, “When did you book the jet?”
“A week ago.”
“You were pretty confident, huh?”
“I was hopeful,” he says, cocking a brow while reaching over and taking my hand in his. “I also booked a room.”
For some reason that makes me burst out laughing. It feels good to feel light, happy again, the burdens of our time apart lifting from my heart. “Oh Dalton, what am I going to do with you?”
“Marry me. Have lots of great sex and make babies,” he says with a completely straight face.
Holy shit! “Babies?”
“One day, not now.”
“Yeah, one day,” I repeat, the realization that this is him—my future husband and father of my children—hits me and I’ve never felt happier in my life. “But the great sex we get now, right?”
“Most definitely.” He looks out the window briefly and turns back. “But this flight is short, so maybe we can work on that at the hotel.”
Facing forward, I close my eyes and lean my head back. “Chicken,” I provoke.
“Did you just dare me to have sex with you?”
I shrug, eyeing him up. “Maybe.”
“You know that’s not really how dares work?”
I like seeing him get all analytical on me, so I ask, “How do they work?”
“Usually, you dare someone to do something they wouldn’t normally do, not something that they’re happy to do. And I’m more than happy to have sex with you right now if that’s what you want.”
Teasing him, I say, “No, it’s fine. We can wait till we get to the hotel.” I start digging through my purse, pretending to be looking for something and a mental countdown begins. Three… two… one.
“Stand up, Holliday.”
Bingo. “Why?”
“I’m taking that dare. Now stand up.”
I slowly unfasten my seatbelt while setting my purse on the floor and stand up. “What now?”
Dalton stands and takes me by the hand as he walks to the back of the plane. He spins me around quickly, my back hitting the wall, then he drops to his knees in front of me. He places his hands on the back of my calves and slides his fingers slowly up. The warmth and slow pace are already driving me insane. When I look down, he’s looking up, watching me, watching my reaction as his hands move under my dress. When he reaches my ass, he squeezes then slides over my hips and under the front of my panties.
With a smirk on his face, he says, “I like you in lace.”
My breaths deepen as his hands flatten, heating me. Taking the sides, he pulls them down and I step out. “I thought you were going to rip them.”
“I was, but I could tell you expected it.”
“So you’re teasing me?”
Simple and direct. “Yes.”
When he stands up, he kisses me, pressing his body against mine, reminding me how much I missed this closeness. No one makes me feel the way Dalton does. Roaming my hands over his shoulders and up his neck, I hold onto him, never wanting to be away from this man again. I kiss him hard and moan. Breathing rapidly, I say, “Unzip my dress.”
“No, I want it on.”
I kiss him again as I hear his zipper come down. With his hips pushed against mine, he looks me in the eyes, and says, “I don’t have anything on me. I planned this, but forgot condoms, so we don’t have to go further if you don’t want to.” Rubbing my cheek gently, he adds, “I haven’t been with anyone else in the last eight months.”
“Me either. I want you, all of you.”
Fingertips alight every nerve in my body as he slides them down my arm and entwines his fingers with mine. “I want to be tied to you in every way possible.”
As I stare into his eyes, I can see his truth staring back at me, and I say, “I want to feel everything with you.”
He pushes up without hesitation and my eyelids drop closed, my mouth slacking open as we become one again, the sensations too good to contain silently. “Dalton,” I sigh through jagged breaths as he moves within me.
Kisses to my neck soothe against the fast pace of our bodies. His groans of pleasure make me smile while my insides start to tighten and coil. “I missed you. You feel so good,” I say.
Pushing my dress even higher, he lifts my other leg, using his strength and determination to hold me there. I flex up, coming back down to meet him thrust for thrust.
“Fuck, I missed you.” Each of his words punctuated with a thrust that increases in intensity.
My head goes back, hitting the hard wall as he speeds up, becoming erratic. Fingers touch, my arousal being coaxed until I’m coming, his name escaping me repeatedly.
He follows quickly behind, his body slack as his energy is drained and he sets me down. “I love you, Angel,” he says, his voice tired, his eyes searching mine while he leans his forehead against mine. “How are you?”
“Good. So good, but tired.”
Turbulence causes us to sway and his hand grabs my arm to steady me. “We should get back to our seats.” Stepping back from me, he lowers my dress then pulls my panties from his pocket, handing them to me. When I take the undies, he pulls his pants up. A few minutes later, we’re back in our seats, buckled up, and ready to land. Leaning his head back, he turns to face me, and says, “I was thinking we could get married tomorrow night.”
“Have you already booked everything for the ceremony?” It’s been a long day, a yawn escapes me.
“Maybe.” A devious grin appears. “And no yawning. I have plans for us later.”
“Care to expand on that?”
“No. I want to keep you guessing.”
“So you’re not gonna tell what you have in store for later?”
“My plans include you, only you, naked in bed, under me, on top of me. If I’m lucky, your mouth on me, and being inside of you for the next two days.”
I stare at him, not sure what I should say other than, “Wow.”
Touching my cheek, he says, “I’ve slept without you for over a month. I never want to sleep without you again. I want to spend every minute of forever with you.”
“Wow.”
He laughs. “Again with the wow?”
“I have a feeling I’m gonna be saying that a lot.”
With a smile, he tilts his head and kisses me on the neck. “You deserve a lifetime of wows.”
The plane lands and we’re whisked by private car to the hotel. I try to straighten the wrinkles out of the lower half of my dress as we walk in the doors, but with this fabric, I’m stuck being a wrinkled mess. “I look like I just got fucked,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, not whispering.
That’s when it occurs to me, and I pop him on the arm. “That’s why you wanted my dress to stay on, isn’t it?”
He shrugs, not apologizing.
“Next time, why don’t you just pee on me?”
Stopping in his tracks, he turns to me. He holds my face and with his thumbs he rubs from my nose to my temples. “Your makeup was smudged.” I hold onto his wrists, and he says, “You’re damn beautiful and you know I get jealous easily. Do I want everybody in this hotel to know that I just fucked you? Absolutely, doesn’t bother me. Is it a trust issue? Not with you. I trust you explicably. It’s all these other fuckers in here who already have their eyes on you. They’re the ones I don’t trust.”
I love that he doesn’t have a bunch of rehearsed lines. He just tells me how it is, not bothering to hide his flaws. I lift up on my tiptoes and kiss him… and he kisses me—in public for the first time. I take his hand and we start walking again because I no longer care how a wrinkled dress leads to implications and gossip. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am here with Dalton. We don’t need to hide our love… or lust.
When I walk into the penthouse at The Palatial, I smile. “So many good memories.” I twirl. “I’m so glad you booked this room.”
“We may have met downstairs, but this suite is where we began. Plus…” He looks smug. “… when I look around, I can name everywhere we’ve fucked. Good memories.”
Although I love the changes I see in Dalton, I’m still glad that some of the rough around the edges rocker is still there. It’s past midnight and I’m exhausted, so I start tugging at the zipper on my back, pulling it down while I walk toward the bedroom. I stop just inside the doorway and look back. His top few buttons are undone with his tie loose around his neck. His hair is messier, sexier, his shoulders relaxed. “You coming?” I ask, stepping out of my Maid of Honor dress.
“Come here, beautiful.”
I go to him in only heels and lingerie. He takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. Turning me around, my stomach is pressed against the counter and his hands are on my waist. His warm breath hits the back of my neck and he says, “I also remember everywhere we kissed and this was where I tasted your skin for the first time.” His lips touch the top of my shoulder and he kisses me gently. I close my eyes, remembering the goosebumps I got in this very spot. When he drags my bra strap from my shoulder, I turn around and his arms trap me between them. With our noses touching, my heart races and just like I did months ago, I place my hand on his chest. He covers mine, and whispers, “I always felt it. I knew when you walked into that bar that there was no other ending for us. You took my breath away and there was no way I could let you leave without knowing you, even if I had to lie.”
“I understand why you lied.”
“But you love me for who I am, not for what I do. You loved me before you knew.”
“I’ve always known the real you. That was the lie you could never tell. You gave me you that first night and now I’ll give you all of me every night after. I love you that much.”
“I didn’t do this back in L.A. but I should have.” He bends down, kissing a path down the center of my body, giving me goosebumps all over again, until he’s on one knee before me.
My breath catches and my hand covers my mouth as I look down.
“I can’t promise you a smooth road. I can’t promise you we won’t be tested or that your life wouldn’t be easier if you had chosen someone without my baggage, because I know it would be. What I can promise you is that if we have faith and trust in each other, nothing else will matter, none of it. I know now that you came into my life when I needed you most,” he says, then pauses, looking down briefly before his gaze reaches mine again. “You saved me from more than what you signed on for. You saved me from myself. This ring…” He holds the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen in the palm of his hand, offering it to me. “…is a thank you, but it’s also a vow I will live by and respect as much as I do you. Will you marry me?”
My hair and makeup is already done when we walk into the Clark County Marriage License Bureau. Dalton is holding my hand tight, both of us aware our secret is out the minute we walk in here. We take the forms and stand off to the side, huddling together to fill it out.
When we leave, we hop in the waiting car and head for the chapel. Once there, I go to the dressing room and slip on the short lacey dress I think he’ll love. I attach the flowing tulle skirt that is open in the front and opt to leave my neck bare, no straps or necklaces.
When I hear a knock on the door, I look in the mirror one last time, suddenly realizing, this is it. This is the day I’ve dreamed about my entire life, and I’m marrying a man that those dreams never did justice to. I slip on my heels, dab a little gloss on and fluff my hair, leaving it down, how he likes it most.
Dalton is in the small chapel room, waiting for me. The marriage officiant clears his throat and Dalton looks up. Shifting, he pulls his hands from his pockets and comes to me. There’s a smile on his face, his love shining through as he looks at me. Taking my hands, he leans in and kisses my cheek, then whispers, “You’re beautiful.”
I lean my head against his, loving the moment we’re sharing. “You look so handsome.” We walk back to the minister together and when he begins to speak, I take a peek at Dalton. He’s the epitome of cool, even when it comes to wedding clothes—his dark grey pants and jacket fitted to accentuate his great body. The white shirt is classic and the black tie, thin but not too trendy.
The vows are traditional, sweet and to the point. Both of us have already shared our deepest thoughts privately. We don’t drag it out. We just want to be married.
When Dalton doesn’t kiss me right away, the minister smiles and asks what he is waiting for. Dalton replies, “I’m not waiting. I’m memorizing.”
Our lips meet in a soft embrace. When we part, I open my eyes and look into my husband’s for the first time. Emerald—the color of his happiness.
While snuggling in the back of the car, I say, “Last time I was in a Town Car with you, we steamed it up in the middle of traffic.”
“Wanna steam up another?”
“Nope. I’m gonna make you wait.”
“You never made me wait before,” he says all cocky. “And now that you’re my wife, I have to wait?”
“Yes. I know it makes no sense. But we haven’t done anything traditional in our relationship… maybe we can at least wait to get to the room so I can say I waited until our wedding night.”
He laughs. “You mean lie? Cuz, I remember quite vividly having sex with you many times before our wedding night.”
“Yes.” I hit his leg. “Anyway, it’s not a total lie because I’m definitely going to make you wait until we get back to the room now.”
Still chuckling, he nods. “If that is what it takes to make you feel more appropriate, you got it.”
I slide across the slick seat and smile when I lean my head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Why am I nervous? We’ve had sex a million times—in every way and position possible, but this time, I’m nervous. With a full stomach from the dinner he had waiting for us, I take a deep breath and leave. I walk out of the bathroom, not wanting to over think this nerves thing, and I see Dalton half-dressed… or technically undressed. His back is to me as he stands with his arms crossed, staring out the large window that overlooks The Strip.
“Hi,” I whisper, leaning against the doorway, feeling better just seeing him.
He turns and my eyes travel down, noticing his pants hanging open. His tattoos show and I can’t lie, I missed them. “C’mere,” he says, leaning back against the large ledge of the window. When I walk, my skirt flows behind me and this time, his eyes travel down to my exposed legs. “I like the dress.”
“Thanks,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands slide up and down the outside of my thighs.
“I like it, but I want it off. Do you want to keep it?”
My eyes go wide, and I laugh. “You want to rip my dress off me?”
His right hand slips between my thighs and moves up slowly until he discovers his wedding gift. “No panties?”
What else do you get the man who has everything. “I figured what’s the point if they were going to be destroyed anyway.” Brushing one of my fingertips across his eyebrows, I say, “I didn’t count on the dress being its replacement.”
His fingers find the spot that makes me fall apart and he begins rubbing softly. “I haven’t kissed you enough today. That needs to be remedied,” he says, pulling me closer by the back of the neck.
Tightening my grip on his shoulders, I kiss him. My tongue tingles when it touches his and I can taste the cinnamon gum he was chewing. He pulls back, his hand leaving me as he slides my skirt up. I’m exposed to him—baring my soul as much as my body. He kisses the apex of my thighs then his tongue tastes me, ending with a kiss. Standing abruptly, he spins us around until I’m the one with my back against the window sill. He lifts me by my waist until I’m perched on the ledge. The lower half of my body is left exposed as the skirt flares out around me.
With his hands, he gently pulls my knees apart, licks his bottom lip then bites it. “You look so fucking sexy like that.”
Grabbing him by the loose ends of his belt, I pull him closer until his legs are between mine. Crossing my ankles behind his knees, I trap him. The warmth of his palms roll over my shoulders as one works its way up the back of my neck and into my hair. He pulls my hair together, holding it in his hand then pulls down, causing me to look up. My hazels meet his greens and the desire he has for me shines from within. “Don’t ever doubt how much I want you. I always want you so much. Too much.” Before I have a chance to respond his mouth crashes into mine and he kisses me hard and deep, frenzied and passionate. He takes and takes, pressing himself against me.
I pull back, resting my head against the cool of the glass, trying to catch my breath. Standing over me, he leans forward, his hands going flat above my head and looking down, trying to calm himself. He’s failing. His chest pumps in and out, his fingers tap on the glass, the sound of impatience or lust.
The cold marble under me penetrates the tulle of my skirt, making me shiver, so I lift up as he stares out over the bright lights of the city. I touch my tongue to his chest and follow the curve of the tiger tattoo. His skin is smooth just bordering on the outside of his light chest hair. Reaching up, I take hold of his shoulders and drag him down. Arms swoop under me, his hands chilled from the glass as he lifts me. Our mouths are bonded until he tosses me on the bed. “I want that dress off. Now.”
I sink into the down comforter and watch as he drops his pants to the floor, his prominent erection thick and hard. I detach the belt that holds the skirt on and roll to my stomach. “Unzip me.”
Starting at my feet, he wraps his large hands around my ankles. “I like these shoes. Keep them on.” I peek over my shoulder and see him moving onto the bed. On his knees, straddling my body, his hands slide over my calves to the back of my thighs. A kiss to each leg leads his warmth to my backside as he pushes the short dress up and over my ass. His breaths deepen. “I want to be inside you.”
“Unzip me, Dalton.”
The tips of his fingers drag along my back as the zipper comes down with ease. I slink underneath him and sit up on my knees. When I get to my feet, my dress falls to the floor. Wearing nothing but an expensive pair of high heels, I feel provocative, empowered. “You ready for me, my hot husband?”
I’m yanked, landing on my back in the middle of the mattress. Leaning over me, he says, “The question is…” He pulls my arms above my head, and spreads my legs with his, positioning himself over me. “Are you ready for me, gorgeous wife?”
“Always.”
His body becomes one with mine, stirring a groan from deep within his chest while my breath is whisked away. With each thrust, I’m pushed higher as he grips my wrists tighter. In an instant, he releases me and lowers, his mouth finding my breast and covering it, peaking it. He bites and I gasp from the pain, his tongue swirling around to ease the effect. Touching his head, I pull him up to face me, eye-level. His thrusts are still intense despite my efforts to slow him down. “Make love to me, Dalton.”
All movement ceases as he hovers above me, his hands on either side of my head. “Make love,” he repeats as he lowers, resting his weight down on his elbows. His hands grace my face, and he kisses me. Tongues move then he licks the corner of my mouth, leaving me wanting more, even though I was the one who wanted to slow down. His body is hard, his muscles working above me while making love to me. With his lips against my cheek, he whispers, “Every time we’re together we create love.”
His words are lyrics he sings to my soul.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, his own playful smile coming out as he stills.
“This. Life. We’re married. Everything.”
“It’s pretty great, huh?”
“More than great. Amazing.”
With a tilt of his head, he starts moving again while watching our connection, taking his time until we’re both satisfied.
Except for an excursion to the tattoo parlor, we spend the next day watching movies in bed. It’s a perfect day.
As the sun sets on our last night here, I walk to the bedroom window, the drapes wide open. A golden light fills the room, I slowly undress, slipping my lingerie off. He watches me. It makes me feel sexy. He makes me feel loved.
“Come over here,” he says, his arm behind his head as he lays shirtless on the bed. Moving to the end of the mattress, I kneel between his legs, leaning forward. With my tongue, I leave a trail, tasting him, enjoying what I see. I pull his boxer briefs down, just a little, enough to tease and kiss him once, twice, and again from his hip to his tip, then cover him back up.
His hand grabs my wrist as I start to slide down, stopping me. When I look up, he says, “I want you.”
“You want me… how?” I ask, keeping my tone seductive like his. I want to hear him say it. I want him at my mercy.
“I want your mouth on me.”
“You, Sir, are a very dirty boy. You know that?”
“I assure you I’m no boy. Why don’t you take those boxers all the way off this time and let me prove it to you.”
Our eyes hold the stare, and then I smile. “With pleasure.”
He proves it twice before we both need a nap.
When I open my eyes, it’s dark. I’m on my side facing the window. I roll over to find Dalton, but he’s not in bed. I sit up and look around the room. Music comes from the living room. Tiptoeing to the door, I find Dalton on the couch holding his guitar. He has a pencil in his mouth as he stares at the paper in front of him and strums lightly. I watch him for a minute without him knowing, loving the sight of him writing music, playing, healing. His eyes go wide and he takes the pencil from his mouth then jots something down on the paper in front of him. He looks satisfied… happy. It’s good to see.
“Hi,” he says, looking my way. “Good nap?”
I nod, giving him a smile. “What are you doing?”
Looking down briefly, he appears shy, something I’m not used to seeing on him. “I was lying in bed, next to you, watching you,” he says. “You used to be more restless when you slept… anyway, a melody came to me, so I got up and started writing. I’m trying to get it down before it disappears.”
“I love that.” I look at the time. Almost eight-thirty. “We slept a long time, or at least I did.”
“You hungry?”
“I want you to write.”
“I’m almost done,” he says, thoughtful. “We can go out or order in. Your choice.”
“I’m thinking in. I’m gonna take a bath.”
He stands just before I turn, and says, “Thank you, Holliday.”
Leaning against the doorframe, I tilt my head, and ask, “For what?”
“For saying yes.”
“Thanks for asking.”
“For being my inspiration.”
“I always wanted to be someone’s muse,” I say lightheartedly.
“You’ve always been in here,” he says, patting his chest over his heart. “We just hadn’t met yet.”
Dalton sits down, getting back to his songwriting, not realizing how much he’s touched my soul. I savor his words and go take a bath.
In the middle of the night I find Dalton asleep on the couch, a beam of moonlight slipping in and residing across his body. For a moment in time, I forget about demons and darkness. Seeing him like this, with his guitar laying across his chest, all I see is goodness—an angel in his own right. Even if he never sees himself that way, I do.
His hand hangs over the edge, the pencil on the floor beneath it. Walking over, I kneel down. Pressing my lips to his forehead, I grab the guitar by the neck then whisper, “Dalton, come to bed.”
His eyes open and focus on mine, a small smile sliding across his face. Covering my hand on the guitar, he whispers, “You’re so beautiful.” The sincerity in his eyes is clear, a sparkle in the depths. His hand wanders up my back, gentle pressure coaxing me forth, his mouth beckoning me without words.
We kiss. We kiss and like the thousands of kisses we’ve shared before, there’s an unbridled passion that stirs within. He’s more than I expected, more than I dreamed possible, and I adore him—body, heart, and soul. Jack Dalton owns me, cherishing while devouring me equally.
I move the guitar to coffee table, and turn back, resuming our kiss as I move on top of him. Both of us squeezed onto the couch together. His hand slips under my chemise and he grabs my breast. “Best tits ever.”
His dirty words turn me on and I run my hand over his hardness. His voice is raspy with sleep when he says, “I want you on top of me. I want you to fuck me, Angel.”
We both stop and undress, not wanting to lose a second that we can be together. His eyes lock on mine as I lift up. He aligns himself before I slide down, my breath catching.
With my hands pressed to his chest, I close my eyes, sinking emotionally as much as physically into all that is Dalton. I begin to rock, each sensation sparking another. Faster. Faster, needing more, feeling everything. His hands are on my breasts, my hips, and pressing against my tattoo, the new script still tender under the bandage. “Choose the dare,” he says from memory. “Dare to dream.” His words become moans.
When his eyes close, his body grips me harder and he starts his own rhythm and slam, driving my orgasm out with his name bursting from my mouth. Sitting up, he covers my mouth and my moans, swallowing my passion until he releases.
His head drops to my shoulder and a shiver courses through his body. Warmth from his arms keeps me steady and upright. “I love you,” I say.
Dalton looks up, and touches my face, “I love you.”
Our bodies exhausted, our minds at ease, our hearts full of love, we fall asleep on the couch together. He stirs next to me as the sun rises. When I wiggle next to him, he says, “Let’s get in bed.” He takes my hand, helping me up and we climb under the covers. I snuggle into his side with my ear pressed to his chest. His breaths are even, a steady and comforting tempo that I fall asleep to.
In the morning, just as we wake, he whispers, “I want to take you somewhere.”
“Okay, where do you want to take me?”
Taking my left hand, he brings it to his mouth and kisses it. “Nothing can top this, but one day I’m gonna take you to Texas.”
Suddenly feeling wide awake, I lift up on my elbow and look at him, surprised. “You want to take me home?”
“No, my home is with you,” he says, with a small smile. “I need to settle things with my dad. I don’t want it weighing down our future. Will you go with me?”
I kiss his forehead, then run my finger down his handsome face, stopping on his bottom lip. “If you’re ready to go back, then I’m ready to go with you.”