Sally walks out of the bathroom and my breath catches. In the six months since the movie wrapped, I still haven’t gotten used to her beauty. If anything, she’s inexplicably more beautiful than when I first saw her. For the movie premiere, she’s wearing a deep purple gown with a floaty chiffon layer that gives her an ethereal look. The neckline plunges in the front and back, and the draped folds at the front accentuate her gentle curves. I can barely keep my hands off the swell of her breasts visible in the vee of her dress, but I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that it’s not allowed. Yet.

My slim-fitting tux leaves no room for a holster, regrettably. Sally turns toward me as she’s fastening an earring, and I notice it’s the pair my mother gave her. The month we spent visiting my mother and hiking through Ireland was perfect. The two most important women in my life loved each other, and Sally settled into the rhythm of Irish family life like she’d always been there.

And when we got back to Los Angeles, it seemed natural for me to move in with Sally. Where else would I be? For the first time in my adult life, I have a base of operations. A place to come home to. A permanent position opened up with the studio’s security firm, one that allows for flexibility and even authority. After a few years here, I can see myself opening my own security business, something I wanted but never saw as achievable. But Sally’s unwavering belief in both of us gives me a new sense of purpose.

Sally’s father eventually got desperate enough to sell his story to some bottom-rung trash. My girl lifted her chin and owned it, every bit of it. Every bloody talk show host who asked about it walked away feeling two inches tall, because Sally would wryly explain how the man made it necessary for her to pay her own way in the first place and had tried to blackmail her with the story first. So they stopped asking. And the public cheered her honesty. Everyone likes a hard luck story that comes right in the end. A couple of her takedowns even went viral on social media.

No one else saw what it cost her to face that gauntlet. That’s a face she only shows to me.

Based on the early reviews and the positive buzz around her interviews, the studio has already greenlighted the next film in the franchise. Filming is set to begin in France in a few months, and I’ve managed to place myself as head of security on set.

Sally sits carefully at her dressing table, spreading her dress aside. She fiddles with brushes and things on the table, performing some mysterious feminine rites. I watch her, and my throat closes as I think about this woman I love. How proud I am of her ambition and drive. How sexy and smart and fun she is. How perfect for me.

“I can’t wait to start filming in France,” I say casually. “You know it’s a short plane ride to Ireland, right?”

“Mmm, yes. I’d love to see your mum again.”

“And there’s a church I want you to see. I think maybe next time we should visit.”

She picks up a tube and touches up her already perfect lipstick. “A church? Okay, that sounds nice.”

I move behind her at the table. I cough because words are suddenly caught in my throat. She’s still distracted, poking around in drawers.

“Yes, a church. The one I’m going to marry you in if you say yes.”

Sally stills, finally, and her eyes meet mine in the mirror. I hold out my palm, and the motion draws her gaze. In the mirror, her eyes widen as she takes in the stunning vintage ring I purchased a month ago. The three carat, princess cut diamond in an art deco setting screams old Hollywood glamour, and I thought of her as soon as I saw it. It’s one of a kind, over the top, and a fraction of what she deserves.

“Oh, so you came prepared, I see.” Mischief dances in her eyes.

“Always.” I sink to my knee and hold the ring up.

“And you already know my answer? How do you know I’ll say yes?”

I spin her around on the little swivel chair and capture her hand. Her eyes say yes as she watches me slide the ring onto her finger.

“You’ll say yes. I’ve got ways of making people talk, you know.”

“I’m familiar with your diabolical methods. Do your worst, villain!”

I’m laughing as I rise to apply a gentle, sucking kiss on her neck. She inhales sharply and tilts her head aside to give me access. My tongue traces a wet trail down her neck, and I nibble on her collarbone. Meanwhile, my hands are nudging her forward in the seat, and when she’s perched on the edge, I curl my palms around her ankles and follow the curve of her muscled calf, over the knees, and between her quivering thighs. The slit hidden in the folds of her dress allows it to part and fall aside, almost like a stage curtain, framing the world’s most beautiful pussy.

I silently bless the fact that her stylist forbade panty lines. Perhaps after the screening I can take advantage of the no panty rule again in the limo. The thought makes my already hard dick throb against my pants. So as I push her dress higher, I put those thoughts into every nip and suck along her inner thigh. Her smell reaches me, her floral bodywash mixes with the sharp musk that betrays her arousal.

Gently, I open her knees wider to allow me closer. My tongue teases right up to her slit, and then she twines her fingers into my newly grown curls and pushes my face into her pussy. I groan and delve into her wet slit with my tongue. As much as I want to make this last, the limo will be here soon, and I’m not leaving this bedroom without my yes.

So I draw my tongue up her cleft to her clit, flicking gently. Her grip on my hair tightens. She breathes faster. With my left hand pressing against her thigh, I work one, then two fingers into her and begin to stroke. My tongue circles her clit with relentless pressure as my fingers pump into her with a rolling motion that pulls my fingertips against her upper wall on the down stroke. She releases my hair to grip the arms of her chair, thrusting her soaking wet pussy at my face. I eat her like a last meal, lapping and sucking, and her gasps turn to moans. When her muscles tense, I flick my tongue over her clit again in a fast, steady beat.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants as her hips rock and spasms rack her body in fading pulses. Then she grasps my head and tilts it to meet her gaze. “Yes.”

Our limo pulls into the line of cars dropping celebrities off at the red carpet in front of the Sunset Boulevard theater. Even at this distance, the buzz of excitement and flash of paparazzi bleed into our cocoon.

“I’m still half surprised that you’re not driving us to this thing yourself,” I tease.

“Shut up,” she says. “I’d have gotten us here quicker, anyway.”

She pinches her dress and rubs it between her thumb and forefinger.

“Hey, are you nervous?”

“Yeah, a little. Or you know, a lot.” She takes a couple of steadying breaths. “The last time I felt this nervous was my very first audition. As a dancer.” A bitter smile mars the moment.

“You’ve got this. There’s no going back, only forward. Your future is out there waiting for you to kick its ass.”

She smiles, more genuinely this time, and looks down at her ring as she tilts her hand to catch the light.

“Think anyone will notice?”

“Guess we’ll find out. We’re next.”

“Are you ready follow me down this carpet?”

“You know I’ll go with you anywhere. Always.”

The door opens, and a wall of light blinds me. I climb out anyway, turning my back on the flashes to the one thing that matters. Sally’s hand in mine as I help my beautiful woman step out into our future.