Page 55 of Crashing the Altar
Her single eyebrow arch was audible. “Women?”
“Woman. Singular,” I clarified before capturing her mouth and pushing my tongue inside.
Swallowing her moan, I barely noticed when she snatched my hat to place it atop her head. Fuck, she’d turned the gesture into more of a claim on me instead of it traditionally being the other way around. But we’d already bucked tradition over the duration of our lifelong relationship—which included a non-existent courtship and hours-long engagement before culminating in an elopement—so it was par for the course.
My life was hers—she could do with it whatever she wanted—just so long as I was granted the privilege of standing by her side, allowed to call her mine.
A throat clearing over the music had us breaking apart, our foreheads resting together as we panted, trying to catch our breath.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
Of course it was Tate. He had probably figured out the role I’d played in aiding the girls’ victory and was getting payback by playing cockblocker. Poor guy had no idea it was pointless. I was married to the horniest woman alive, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I wouldn’t be getting laid the minute we got back to our motel room. Shit, I’d lay odds we wouldn’t even make it that far after that kiss.
“What is it?” I didn’t spare him a glance, too caught up drinking in the sight of my beautifully flushed wife under the bar’s neon glow.
“Your phone’s blowing up, man. Looks like someone’s trying real hard to get ahold of you.”
Well, there went my erection.
Not sure why I was surprised that my old man couldn’t wait until morning to tear me a new asshole.
Letting my hands fall away from Penny’s body, I scrubbed one over my jaw. It was best to get this over with so he didn’t ruin the rest of my night.
I weaved through the mass of bodies until I reached the table where I’d left my cell. Snatching it up, I instantly frowned at the number of missed calls and messages. No less than a dozen lit up my lock screen, and they weren’t all from my father.
Penny slid a hand over my shoulder as she moved to stand before me. “Who is it?”
My eyes scanned the messages before lifting to meet hers. “The real world. We need to go home.”
Our hideout honeymoon was over.
Chapter 14
Penny
ReaganBlazewasthemost beautiful baby I’d ever laid eyes on. I became obsessed the minute she was placed in my arms.
She favored her daddy in terms of hair color, with a dark thatch of it sitting atop her head, but the count was still out on who she’d get her eyes from. From what I’d gathered when she’d been awake, they were that same milky gray all newborns seem to have, so it would be a while before we discovered if they’d go blue like Aspen’s—and the rest of the Sullivan clan’s—or brown like Mac’s.
Time stood still as I stared down at the little miracle. Her pink rosebud lips were pursed together, her chest rising softly with each breath as she dreamed sweet baby dreams.
“She’s perfect.” I trailed a finger down the soft skin of her cheek in wonder.
“’Course she is. I made her.” The pride in Mac’s voice couldn’t be contained.
Dragging my gaze away from the sweet girl snoozing soundly, I smiled at him. “You did good.”
Aspen let out an affronted huff. “Hedid good? Need I remind everyone that I’m the one who pushed her melon head out of my vagina?”
Tripp shifted uncomfortably beside me, but Mac was completely oblivious to his distress, electing to engage with his wife.
“Don’t worry, honey.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “If anyone forgets the sacrifices your vagina made to bring our girl into the world, I’ve got the pictures to set them straight.”
My eyes widened, and fuck if my pussy didn’t pang in sympathy for all that Aspen’s had gone through.
Under my breath, I asked Tripp, “Did he just say he tookpicturesof”—I swallowed roughly—“the ‘emergence’?”
The poor man shuddered. “Tryin’ real hard not to think about it, babe.”
