Emily
She looked back to the front door, shocked. Then she remembered how she and Dane had ended up here, and all the shenanigans her man had gotten into when he was getting her from the hotel.
“Hand me your shirt,” she said to Dane.
“What do you say?” he asked, grinning down at her.
She licked her lips and smiled. “Please, sir?”
He reached down, grabbed his dress shirt off the ground, and handed it to her as the doorbell rang again and a heavy fist pounded on the door. “Emily!” called Ian's voice. “Emily! Are you in there?”
“Put some clothes on, Dane,” she hissed, as she frantically buttoned up her shirt, then hopped down off the couch. She padded into the front entryway with the shirt covering just the tops of her thighs. “Coming,” she called, before looking back over her shoulder to see her man pulling on his slacks and undershirt.
She unlocked the door and threw it open, stepping back from the bright sun that seemed to form a halo around both Jas and Ian. “Hi,” she said, her lips pressed tightly together.
Ian and Jas stood there, faces agog at her disheveled and freshly-fucked appearance. Ian still wore his perfectly tailored tuxedo they'd purchased for just this occasion, and Jas had stayed in her bridesmaid outfit, as purple as it was. Neither of them said anything, clearly too stunned by the mess Emily had become in just the short hour since she'd been pulled from the bridal suite.
Her face burned with embarrassment, even as her ass still burned from Dane's hard spanking he'd delivered. She knew her throat was probably red, too. God, if they could see the bruises on her shoulders and breasts, they'd think she'd been mauled by a wild animal. Which, she supposed, she kind of had been.
“Come in, will you?” she asked graciously, as she stepped aside, giving them space to pass.
“What in the hell?” Ian finally said, as he came in. “Just, Jesus, Emily, what in the fucking hell is going on? Where the hell have you been? We're supposed to be married by now!”
She didn't have any words for him. Not yet. Emily sighed and looked away, her tiny foot tapping.
“Emily?” Jas asked.
She turned her attention to her executive assistant, and friend, shooting her a “not you, too” look.
Jas gestured to the belly of her shirt, drawing Emily's attention downwards. Emily went crimson as she realized she'd missed a couple buttons down there. It wasn’t enough to show everything, but more than was necessary to see the scarlet claw marks from Dane's work-blunted nails. She busily began to button her shirt. “Ian,” she said as she completed dressing, her voice reflecting how sad she felt for hurting him, “I'm really sorry, but this isn't working out.”
Ian shook his head and wiped a hand down his face. “And this,” he asked as he began gesticulating wildly towards the outside world. “This is how you tell me? When my friends and family have all flown in for our wedding?”
Emily's frown deepened as she shook her head. “I'm just …I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this to you, but I was trying to make it work, and I just can't. You and I, we don't love each other the way you deserve, Ian. You deserve some woman who's going to be head over heels in love with you, and is going to hang on your every word.”
Her, now ex-fiancé’s face dropped. “Y-y-you didn't?”
Emily made a face and shook her head. “I'm so sorry.” She smiled at him, trying to be as gentle as possible. “But, you're a great guy. And you'll find that special someone for you. I know you will.”
He just looked at her, then sighed and looked away. “Just . . . fuck it. Whatever, Emily.” He turned and walked away, but stopped just outside the front door. “Jas, I'll be in the car if you need a ride back to the hotel for your clothes.”
Both women watched him go, pained looks on their faces. Jas quickly swung her attention back to Emily. “Oh my God, Em, you look like a porn star. You slut.”
Emily stifled a laugh with her hand, but still grinned knowingly at her friend. “I know.”
“And on your wedding day? Jesus.”
“Jas,” Emily said after a moment of calming down, “I need you to do me a huge favor again. Bigger even than being my maid of honor.”
“Oh, God,” Jas replied, clearly knowing where this was headed. “You want me to . . .?”
“Please?” Emily cajoled. “I'll love you for life if you tell everyone for me.”
Her assistant rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she huffed. “Fine, whatever. I'd kiss your cheek and wish you happiness, but I don't know where you, or Dane, have been.”
“I'd hug you,” Emily said with a laugh, “but you're probably right. It's for the best that I don't.”
Jas headed out the front door. She turned around just as she was about to close it, mouthing the words “slut” one more time at her boss.
“That went better than it probably should have,” Dane said, as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist and his fingers through the opening in her shirt.
“Mmhmm,” Emily agreed as he brushed her neck with his lips.
“But, as well as it went,” Dane whispered in her ear as he grabbed her by both arms, “I still have some talking to do with you.”
# # #
Dane
“No, really,” Dane said, as he yanked her back down the hall toward the bedroom, “I do.” He shut the door behind him them as he tossed her on the bed. “Look,” he began. “I love you. I've loved you since the first moment I tried to break you, and you just bent and bent. Like when you spat in my face, or taunted me as I trying to prove how weak you were.”
Emily went to say something, but Dane hushed her. “Let me finish,” he said. “You have such an unbreakable spirit, Emily West. An indomitable will, poise, self-assurance, and confidence. But, still, you can admit that not even you know everything, and that you're sometimes wrong. You can face your mistakes and the truth that you made them, then own up and try to fix them. I know I can't offer you the same kind of life Ian could. I'm never going to contribute to your way of life financially, like he could, but I want to be the man you come home to after a hard day at the office. I want to be that man for you.”
Emily beamed at him as he spoke.
He swallowed hard, more terrified of this than any sortie he'd flown over Iraq back in the war. He dropped to one knee in front of her and took her tiny hands in his. “I want to be the man who builds a life beside you, together, as equals. I know you want a career, and I want you to have one, too. I'd never take that from you, or try to lock you up in the house all day. I love you, Emily West. You're my match, and I'm yours. I just know it.”
“Are you . . . ?” she asked.
“Am I?” he asked, before swallowing again and nodding. “Yeah, of course I am. Of course I'm asking.”
She took one hand from his and touched his cheek. “Then ask.”
“Would you marry me, Emily West?”
Emily leaned forward and kissed him, her lips like lines of burning hot coals as they pressed into his. She bit his lips hard, producing a sharp groan from him as she flicked her tongue across his. She pulled back, both of them gasping, and rested her forehead on his. “Of course, Dane Bishop. That would make me the happiest woman alive.”