Page 49 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“Keep it together or I stop, babe.”

Keep it together? He sucked and licked and nipped like he was enjoying a Gloria flavored ice cream cone. Oh, I sure as shit stayed unmoving but I felt like I was trying to finish the last mile of a marathon. My legs burned and at the same time turned to jelly. The fight to stay standing turned downright painful but I pushed through it. And my rat bastard of a husband changed things up again using two of his fingers, he plunged them inside me, bending the tips forward to hit the spot. ThatGlorious,Giving,Game-changing spot. But did he stop there? No, hedid not. Blake took his other hand, pressing down on my pelvic bone from the outside as he continued to suck.

And that was all she wrote. My entire body lit up like a 4thof July firework display and it was quite possible that from the sound ripped from the bottom of my diaphragm, I wouldn’t be able to look any of the neighbors in the eye for the foreseeable future.

My husband stood up, spinning me to face the counter. I heard him unzipping his pants but when I tried to turn my headto watch, he brought his hand up to the back of my neck pushing down.

“You my good girl, Gloria?”

“Trying to be,” I said though it came out rough and panting.

“Arms out. You don’t hold on to anything. Understand?”

“Nothing,” I breathed. When did my husband become so wicked? He knocked my feet to shoulder width apart.

“Tilt your ass out.”

Maybe this made me prudish, but I’d never had kitchen sex before in my life. Blake entered me slowly, softly which felt nice but not what we’d been doing. I should’ve known he was just trying not to hurt me going in because soft totally disappeared from that point on. He held my ass cheeks spread wide to create more of a suction each time he rammed that meat hammer inside. I heard it and felt it. I smelled us. Our love making—no, ourfucking—used all my senses. Yes, even my eyes as I tried to watch with the side of my face plastered to the counter.

Apparently, I liked it rough because the harder he pumped the more fizz built up in my belly, like shaking up an extra cold glass bottle of cola. Because I wasn’t allowed to grasp onto anything my arms swung wildly, knocking the bowl with the flour onto the floor, it poofed a white cloud into the air, covering us in the dust as it settled. I tilted my hips back to give him more of me. Ineededto let go, but if I let go than this would end and Ineverwanted it to end. Spending the rest of my life with my husband roughly fucking me from behind seemed like a pretty great life, at least in the moment. Then he twisted his body going up and in at an angle and my entire body gave up the fight. I dropped to my knees, taking him with me as we were still connected. The wetness from him and me dripping down my legs mixed with the flour on the floor causing a sticky paste to form on the tile. It smeared on his pants and the bottom hem of my skirt.

I started cracking up once I found my breath. And even then, my chest still heaved. He rolled me to sit on his lap after pulling out, holding me, cracking up along with me.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, but kissed me before I could answer. “Alpha enough for you?”

When I looked around the room, flour coated just about every surface. I’d knocked the eggs—when did I knock the eggs? The only things unharmed were the two cans of plums because they hadn’t been opened yet. Our luncheon clothes needed some major dry cleaning now. We both needed a shower—stat. “It was okay,” I teased.

But Blake’s eyes as he leaned in to kiss me again, so full of love and humor—God, that look just did it for me—it reaffirmed my decision to catch that redeye flight to Vermont and give this man another chance.

At the end of it all, we had a giant mess to clean up and had to drive about an hour out of our way to make a stop at the Polish bakery in Hamtramck and then it was off to Pen and Ant’s cookout.

And secretly, I couldn’t wait to meet alpha-Blake again. Which room would he pick next time?

Part of me wanted to share every dirty detail with Pen and Sierra, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted this to be a beautiful secret between me and Blake.

Some things deserved to stay between a husband and wife.

My own dirty little secret.

How did I get so lucky?

Chapter Twelve

Blake marveled at how well I knew the city and his praise at my parallel parking job felt nice. But growing up in this part of the Mitten State, everyone had to know how to park, because the consequences meant hoofing it forblocks. And anyone who ever had to deal with the bone-chilling below zero winters or the 100° city heat in the summers knew all too well why having to walk for blocks to get to your destination sucked not just balls, but a big, sweaty-ass bucket of balls.

As we drove closer to Grosse Pointe Shores where Pen and Ant lived, I felt a little bit of Blake’s unspoken anxiety ease away. I got that. He understood neighborhoods like these. He understood the people who lived here. He’d played their games most of his life, the same as with Pen and Ant, which gave them millions of things in common.

When I made the turn onto their street,myanxiety kicked up just a bit. Not for my husband, I knew my friends would love him. But because this marked the first time for me ever showing up to a PenorAnt soiree with a plus one. Thefirst time. Sierra found some decent men from time to time, and if she liked one enough, she’d brought him around for us to meet. But me? I think I’d let my insecurities about not being good enough takeup too much real-estate in my head for far too long. It kept me from meeting any good men worth introducing to my best friends. I got how bad that sounded, but the truth shall set me free and all that. And today I wasn’t just bringing some ordinary plus one. Today they got to meet my husband. Myhusband.

Proud didn’t begin to cover it.

I turned into Pen and Ant’s driveway. They lived in this gorgeous Georgian-style home that Gretchen had picked out when she’d still been planning to marry Ant. The home had grown on Pen, mainly because Ant made it a priority to turn it into Pen’s home… and she loved the guy. Waking up every morning next to the love of your life, even if waking up in a home that wasn’t necessarily to your taste, went a long way to making you love a place, too.

Confidence must come with being raised wealthy because Blake hopped out of the car as soon as I cut the engine. He walked around to open my door, and I handed him the box of pastries before climbing out. Then he dropped his hand to my lower back and moved us up the walk to the front door, as if he’d visited my friends a hundred times before. He rang the doorbell and we waited.

Only a few seconds passed before the door opened. Ant smiled big for me. “I was just walking past the door,” he said. “Talk about timing.”

“Ant,” I replied with a big, stupid grin on my face. “I’m so glad to see you.”

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