Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
My eyes are already on Leah when her head snaps up to find me.
"That's right, precious. I'm marrying you. And no, I didn't ask. You're mine, and if you don't feel it, tell me I'm wrong." I step forward, drop to my knees in front of her, and pry her hands loose from May's, whose lips are fighting a smile.
"You're bossy," May chirps, giving Decker an impish grin. "Like someone else I know."
Decker gets to his feet with a grunt. "So you didn't have anything to do with the fires?"
Wilson shakes his head. "No. I don't know anything about the fires, except that Victor set me up to take the blame."
Decker and I look at each other. Victor may not have set them himself, but I'm sure as shit he had someone do it for him. One of the goons on his payroll.
"You can go." I nod at Wilson. "We'll let you know what's next for you after I talk to the ladies. What happens to you is up to them now, not me."
Wilson takes the cue and gets out the door fast.
Then my whole focus swings back to my girl, and to getting a ring on her finger. It fits perfectly, of course, because I'm an obsessive bastard and I triple checked with the jeweler. When it's snug in place, I reach up and cup her cheek. "You ready to be Mrs. Allister Marshall?"
"What if I say no?" Leah gives me a sly little smile.
"Wouldn't make a difference." I look at May, then Decker. "This Saturday work for you guys? You got the number for the Justice of the Peace you used?"
Decker cracks a half smile, and Leah is shaking her head at me.
"Do I get any say in this?"
"Sure, baby. You get to say 'yes.'"
EPILOGUE
Allister
Eighteen months later
"It's crooked." Leah giggles as she steps around and runs her hands up my chest and back down, grabbing me and pressing her pregnant belly into my back. She's nearly nine months along, and it could happen any time now.
"It's unique." I reach up to the top of the tree and try one last time to straighten the wooden star. It's homemade, carved by my own hands, and I still have the cut in my palm to prove it.
It holds for a second, then shifts and tips the other way, but with her pressed against me, I don't give a shit about the damn star.
I thought she was sexy before, thought I couldn't keep my hands off her, but with her belly full of me? Shit, I'm on her so many hours a day it's a miracle I haven't knocked her up again by sheer force of will.
I lower my hands to cover hers where they're locked around my middle, then turn to face her and loop her arms around my back, keeping us pressed as one.
"It's still crooked." She pouts, but she knows it won't do any good.
"I'm going to make you crooked in a second, little girl. Crook those legs over my shoulders and let me feast on this pussy. I could live on you. You know that, don't you?"
"Well, as much time as you spend down there, you practically do live on me. When you tossed out all my panties after the wedding, I was pretty sure, but honest to God, Allister Marshall, you've only gotten worse."
I look down into those deep, chocolate-brown eyes, and I'm the one who melts. She's got the drop on me, and she knows it. Her cheeks are pinker these days. The more her belly grows, the more stunning she gets.
"No, baby. I've gotten better. How long does it take you to cum when I get my mouth on you? Hmm? Ten seconds, maybe?"
She shakes her head, and her hair shifts over her shoulders. "Eleven." She narrows her eyes, trying to be snarky, but the little flames are already flickering there.
"You want to set the timer?" I drop a hand from her neck and ease it down her back, watching her shiver. Then I take her mouth in mine. "See if we can do the same with my fingers? Give me ten seconds?"
Three seconds later, she's moaning, and my fingers are drenched in her sweet cunt. She's already dripping, and my cock is so hard it aches. Three seconds. Maybe a new record.
I taste the hint of mint chocolate I fed her earlier, and it lights up my tongue. It's Christmas Eve, and in a couple hours, the house will fill up with family, and the old staff, and even Wilson.
Leah's lips are full and sweet, dropping open as my tongue leaves her mouth to trace along her jaw, her throat.
All the while, my fingers are dancing in her folds. I slip my middle finger lower, watching her face as she watches mine, and find the spot on her front wall that drops her eyelids to half-mast.