Page 105 of The Fool

“It really was,” she daydreams. “And now I have a huge belly, swollen feet, and trouble going to the bathroom. It’s such a magical time!”

“You’ve gotta have a white wedding,” Emma pouts at me. We’re slowly getting back to being sisters again, but we’ve still got a way to go. Most of her so-called friends dropped her after she and Dean broke up. She was sad for a while but found clearing everything out and starting again was somewhat refreshing; cathartic you might say. She’s taken over my apartment and has found a job as a finance assistant for some up-and-coming clothing boutique.

“I really want to be your bridesmaid,” she says in a daydreamy voice. I could bring up my awful experience of being a bridesmaid at her wedding, but I choose not to. No one wants to bring up anything that might remind her of Dean.

“Plus, we all like a free bar,” Callie weighs in, “you can’t deny your friends. Not even Lily took away the free bar experience.”

“Youcould always get married,” I tease. “When are you going to tell us about this mystery guy of yours, anyway? He sounds like he has marriage potential.”

“And I’m still waiting formyfree bar,” Lily joins in.

“Maybe I will marry him,” she says like it’s a simple, everyday decision. “But not until Lily can drink again. Drunk Lily is so much fun!”

“Yeah, might be a while,” Lily sighs as she pats her pregnant belly.

“What’s lover boy think?” Callie juts her chin out toward Nate, who is currently walking over to us, looking totally edible in his low-slung jeans, fitted tee, and ridiculously expensive aviators. I bite my lip while giving him a naughty smile, to which he chuckles before slipping his arms around me.

“What’s that?” he asks Callie.

“Bea’s wondering about the whole white wedding thing, what are your thoughts?”

“As long as there’s a wedding night, I’m cool either way,” he says before planting kisses down the column of my neck.

“We can have a wedding night right now if you want,” I whisper, for the feeling of his lips on my naked skin is too much for me to ignore.

“In my brother’s house?” he asks with a cheeky grin on his face.

He’s gifted with a seductive nod of my head, to which he drops his glasses slightly down his nose so he can look into my eyes. When I stare right back, he simply holds out his hand for mine, then pulls me to my feet.

“Bea and I are going to go and discuss the options inside,” he declares, gesturing over to the house while pulling me along with him.

We barely make it into the house before he grips hold of me and invades my mouth with his own. We then hightail it into the nearest private room, which happens to be Cameron’s personal gym. Figures, it’s Nate’s favorite place after the bedroom. He rips off his shirt as I fall to my knees, where I begin releasing him from the confines of his pants. Then I’m on him, nipping and sucking as he thrusts his hips into me. He grabs hold of the weightlifting bars, so I take him more urgently, pushing him to release not long after. He growls appreciatively and whips me up before he’s even fully recovered. I lean back into the chair of the weightlifting bench as he rips my panties away, the flimsy fabric practically disintegrating inside of his hands.

“Nate!” I cry out, pretending to sound mad. “What am I supposed to wear after we’re done?”

He simply grins as he slips between my thighs, wiping any concerns I had away with one swipe of his tongue. And when his fingers join in by thrusting inside of me, I can’t even remember what I was worrying about.

“Oh, God, Nate…” I moan as I grip hold of his hair.

“What were you saying?” he teases.

“No fucking idea, but don’t stop, please!” I beg as he brings me closer to the edge. Though before he lets me, he stops and pulls me up to straddle him. I would shout at him for stopping at such a torturous moment, however, the feeling of him inside of me is too heavenly for me to care. As I move on top of him, he lifts away my top, releasing my breasts so he can suck and massage my flesh.

“Bea?”

“God, yes?” I moan as multiple sensations overload my ability to talk.

“Let’s do it; let’s set a date and tell everyone now,” he pants as I slam down on top of him.

“Babe, you’ve gotta stop asking me serious questions like this,” I gasp.

“Why? I usually get what I want this way,” he says with a cheeky boy smile on his face.

“Yes!” I shout as I reach climax.

“I love getting my own way,” he laughs, then lifts me onto the floor and really lets me have it. After a groan of euphoria, he begins kissing me, though I have to roll my eyes over his tactics to get what he wants from me. “May third,” he whispers, “May third is when you become Mrs Carter.”

“Who says I’m taking your last name?” I tease.

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