Blissed Out (Chelsea & Max's Wedding) (2 page)

I perk up when I hear the name. “That’s where we’re having the rehearsal dinner!”

“My other brother is the owner. I promise you, you’ll be very pleased with your choice.”

Juliet nods her approval. “You really will.”

“Wow,” says Max, eyeing the Moores. “You guys kind of own this town, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” says Ian.

“Again, don’t let him fool you.” Juliet shakes her head and gathers Lulu into her arms. “His family is pretty much local royalty.”

“
Our
family.” Ian smiles down at his wife and I want to ask them how long they’ve been married. I’ve never seen such a happy couple.

The Moores leave and we send Charlie out to play in the pool while we carry our suitcases in and unpack. We hang my dress and his tuxedo next to each other in the closet and I get all teary-eyed looking at them like that. Side by side, wrapped in plastic, a promise of so many good years ahead of us. I hope we stay as happy as we are right now. That our love is as palpable as Ian and Juliet Moore’s.

We head downstairs, Max’s fingers twining with mine, me pressing against his strong body and I have to admit, this place really is blissful. Charlie’s out splashing in the pool, his happy laughter mixing with the constant rush of the waves lapping up onto the beach and it all soothes some rough patch on my soul.

And then, as if on cue, like thunder rolling off in the distance just as you decide to go out and enjoy the day, comes the sound of cars in the driveway. Doors slam shut, first one, then two, then so many there’s no doubt in my mind that my entire family has arrived at the same time.

So much for bliss.

S
uddenly the house
is churning right along with my stomach as my family streams through the front door, dragging luggage and bags that bump and thump over the tile floors. My sister squeal and run to hug me and I stumble backwards a little.

“Holy shit!” Dakota steps back and looks around. “This place is incredible!”

“Dakota…” My mother shakes her head and looks stern. “Language.”

Maya rolls her eyes at me. “I wonder if she even noticed that at some point along the way, we all grew up?”

There’s handshaking and back thumping from the men, my dad and Dominic greeting Max with the appropriate level of manly detachment.

“This place looks like it cost a pretty penny.” Dad raises an eyebrow as he studies his surroundings. “You sure you’ve double checked your math? This has to be a bit of a stretch for a physical therapist and a public servant.”

I swear, in that moment, my heart stops beating and my lungs stop processing oxygen and this high pitched whine settles into my head. Never in my life have I given him reason to think I’d be irresponsible about my money. That I’d be irresponsible about anything, for that matter. Max has more than enough money, thanks to an inheritance from his parents and grandma, but I’ve never bothered to tell my parents that because it’s none of their damn business.

“It’s fine, Dad,” I manage through a clenched jaw. “We’ve got this.”

Max cuts through the crowd of people to stand at my side. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me in close. His body is a shield. I feel protected by the sheer size of him. And let’s get real. With the way things are going, I really need him right now.

“I’m sure you are, dear,” says my mom with a patronizing smile that says she doesn’t believe it for an instant. “I’m just glad you’re finally getting married. When you hadn’t found anyone and you were so close to thirty…” She whispers the word like she’s naughty for even saying it out loud. “Well.” She tosses her head. “I thought you were destined to finish your poor little life all alone.”

Max tenses beside me and I hurry to fill the silence. “So,” I say brightly. “Did you guys all drive together? Or was it just good luck that you got here at the same time?”

And I use those words—
good luck
—with the very loosest interpretation of their meaning.

Dad drops a heavy hand on my shoulder. “We caravanned. We all wanted to do our best to make this little wedding the very best for our Moo.”

I flinch. I can feel it. I hate that nickname with every fiber of my being. It’s haunted me since I was a little girl, fueling the demon-bitch in my head to question everything I put on my plate, every bite I put in my mouth, every outfit I put on my body.

“With all due respect, Mr. London,” Max says in his most authoritative voice, the one he uses when he’s on duty. “It doesn’t take much to see from the look on your daughter’s face that she doesn’t like that nickname very much.”

My sisters’ eyebrows hit their hairlines in unison and Mom’s mouth drops open.

My dad actually pinches my cheek. “But I love my squishy little Moo.”

“Maybe it’s time you take a real look at the gorgeous woman your daughter has become. She’s not your squishy little anything anymore. She’s smart. Strong. Successful in her field. Sought after for her expertise.” Max smiles down at me. “And she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

The stunned silence actually echoes through the room and I don’t know how that’s even a thing but it’s totally happening right now. My dad purses his lips and regards Max as a cat might regard a mouse he may or may not want to pounce on at some point in the near future.

“Well,” huffs my mother, looking around for some way to politely end the conversation. “Why don’t we all get ourselves situated.”

We show them to the bedrooms upstairs and there’s this blessed quiet few minutes as everyone unpacks and gets their things in order.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” I whisper to Max.

He pulls me into his arms and runs his hands up my back. “I’ve got you,” he says as he drops his lips to mine and then all I know is that we’re kissing and it’s all good because I love this man with all that I am.

When everyone has their stuff put away, we decide to join Charlie in the pool. I admit, it’s more than a little nice, lounging around while the sun bakes my skin. Today there is no time limit. No worry. We’re here, and that’s all that has to happen. My family chatters around me, conversation and laughter ebbing and flowing like the sound of the ocean. It’s relaxing. And maybe Max was right. Maybe I really could use a chance to unwind.

And if the relaxation is nice, watching Max strut around in his bathing suit is downright decadent. That man is built like a brick wall. All hulking muscles and broad shoulders. Dominic is a big man himself, but he looks small next to my future husband.

“They sure are pretty together,” says Maya from her place on the lounge chair beside me.

“Who?” Dakota shades her eyes and looks over me to see Maya.

“Max and Dominic.” Maya jerks her chin in their direction.

“Fuck yeah, they are,” says Dakota and I’m glad Mom isn’t around to have a heart attack at her language.

We watch as Dominic finds a boogie board in the crate of pool toys near the house. He throws it into the pool and then takes a running leap onto the thing, skims a few feet across the water, and then falls into the pool. He comes up laughing, shaking water out of his dark hair.

“You gotta try it, man,” he says to Max who’s already eyeing the boogie board with excitement.

What follows is a ridiculous competition to see who can stay on the longest before falling off. Even Charlie joins in, laughing and smiling, modeling himself after the men. He couldn’t have found two better men to emulate. I may not have been Dominic’s biggest fan at first, but now that I see how happy he makes Dakota, his easy going nature is growing on me.

Before long, the men exhaust themselves and the sun gets too much for our poor Ohio skin. Back home, we’d be wearing pants and considering jackets, but here? It’s been a balmy seventy-eight degrees since we arrived. We head inside and Dakota falls in love with the bar. She mixes us drinks while we lounge around the family room.

“What else is there to do here?” asks Dominic during a lull in the conversation.

Charlie jumps up from his place on one of the couches. “We’re going to go skydiving!”

Of course, my parents are properly mortified while Dominic and Dakota look absolutely thrilled. Maya just turns to me with her eyes wide.

“We never promised anything,” I say and Max explains that the property managers suggested it.

“But there are some restaurants and coffee shops downtown,” continues Charlie, rattling off just about everything Ian told us when we arrived. “And this bar called Fantastic Sam’s that everyone here loves but probably isn’t kid friendly.” Charlie grins at Max, proud of himself for having the information that Dominic asked for.

“You’re a pretty cool kid, you know that?” asks Maya.

“Well yeah. I guess.” Charlie ducks his head. “But that’s just because I got Max to show me how.”

The entire room erupts in coos and proclamations on the sweetness of Charlie’s statement while my mother quietly corrects his grammar. Charlie’s eyes go wide as he sucks in his lips and blushes furiously. It’s the one time we can ever see his blonde eyebrows, when his face is red from embarrassment.

Fantastic Sam’s sounds absolutely wonderful and I can tell that my sisters feel the same way, too. What’s not to love about drinking, music, and dancing? But there’s no way Max and I can go, not with a ten-year-old boy.

“Why don’t you guys go?” I say. “Max and I will stay here and play some games with Charlie.”

Everyone looks at each other, waiting for someone else to speak before giving their opinion. It’s the single greatest weakness in my family. No one wants to say the wrong thing, because everyone knows there’s nothing worse than saying or doing the wrong thing. So we all just wait around for someone to tell us the right thing so we can cast our vote in that direction.

If anyone’s going to break the silence, it will be Dakota or Dominic, so I turn to them. “Really. It’s fine. Go. Have fun.” I smile and just as I can see them getting ready to say yes, my mom speaks up.

“You know what? Why don’t you all go? We’ll stay here with Charlie. I don’t get enough time with my new grandson, anyway.” She looks at her husband and he nods in agreement.

“We’ll take him seashell hunting on the beach.”

I study Charlie, not so sure I’m ready to leave him with my parents. Not because I don’t think they’ll take good care of them, but maybe they’ll try so hard to take good care of him that they’ll find the chinks in his armor and install a
you’re not good enough
button in him just like they did for me. But he’s smiling and nodding and looking downright pleased.

“That sounds awesome!” he says, staring at my mom with gratitude in his eyes and that just seals the deal.

We call it a plan and head to our respective rooms to get cleaned up for a night out. The moment our door closes behind us, Max pulls me into his arms and drags my shirt up over my head. His mouth is on my neck, my jaw, my chest.

“It was all I could do to watch you prance around in that little bikini today,” he says and then bites at my nipple through the thin lace of my bra.

“You think that was bad?” I pause and moan as he kisses his way back up my neck and throat. “Have you seen yourself in a swimsuit?”

Max presses his hips forward and the very large, very hard bulge in his pants stabs me in the stomach. “I want you so much.”

“The feeling is very mutual.” I grab his dick and give it a little squeeze.

Just as I reach for the button on his pants—because damn it, family in earshot or not, this is my wedding week and if I want to have wild sex with my fiancé then I’m going to have wild sex with my fiancé--Max steps out of arms reach.

“Go take your shower,” he says, jerking his chin towards the master bath.

“Come take one with me.” I step towards him, grab his shirt, and give it a little tug.

Max shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says with a smile that I’ve learned means I’m in for one hell of a good time. “We’re going to play, but not right now. I want you so wound up by the time we get home that you’re ready to explode the moment I touch you.”

I study him. Max loves his toys. We rarely have sex without some kind of instrument or another coming into play. It makes for some very, very fantastic orgasms. But fantastic orgasms come with a lot of screaming and moaning. I don’t know if I can be silent enough if he intends to spend the whole night at the bar winding me up.

“Take your shower,” he says again, surely anticipating my question about just what he has in store for me. “You’ll see what I have in mind soon enough.”

I do as he says and I’m already so turned on that even my own hands feel good as I slide them over my body. My finger glides over my clit and I consider relieving just a little of the pressure Max has built up in me. It wouldn’t hurt, right? Just a little shower orgasm compliments of none other than
moi
?

But that’s the thing. Ever since Max has come into my life, it just doesn’t feel as good to do it myself anymore. Sure, my muscles clench, and sure, there’s pleasure involved, but it’s missing something. When I come with Max, there’s power and emotion and substance behind it. The earth quakes and my soul cries out, and it’s all about us, together, loving each other and bringing pleasure to one another. It’s not like that when I’m solo. And if he’s promising earth-shattering for later, I’d be a fool to waste my time on anything but the best.

I finish my shower just as turned on as I started it.

Okay, maybe a little more turned on, because I spent the entire time fantasizing about having him inside me. And wouldn’t you know, when I come back into our bedroom, I find him totally naked. Totally hard. Dick in hand. Staring straight at me.

I lose my grip on the towel I have wrapped around my body and it drops to the floor, carrying my jaw along with it.

“Just wanted to give you a little peek at what you’ve got to look forward to,” he says as he brushes past me into the bathroom. “Get dressed,” he says as he shuts the door. “Wear a skirt. No panties.”

F
antastic Sam’s
is the perfect little dive bar nestled right in the heart of downtown Bliss. If I wasn’t so distracted by the fact that my skirt is short and my thighs are damp and the wind coming in from the ocean wants to put it all on display, I’d find it funny that they call this little strip of shops
downtown.
I mean, I thought I grew up in a small town, but compared to Bliss, Townsbury is a thriving metropolis.

The parking lot beside the bar is full, so we have to park on the street. The Moores weren’t lying when they said this place was a local favorite. We press through the front doors into a wide open room filled with tables and chairs and people. My God, so many people. The bar is off to the right, kind of tucked into the corner and every seat there is taken. We find the lone empty table left in the joint--a cheap plywood thing barely big enough to accommodate all five of us--and claim it as ours. I take a seat, cautiously smoothing my skirt down to cover my ass as I do.

“You think there will be music tonight?” asks Maya, indicating the little stage and dance floor beside us.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” I have to shout to be heard because wow. This place is anything but blissful.

A waitress sidles up to our table, her too-tight t-shirt clinging to a pair of utterly spectacular tits. Well, the part of her tits that aren’t falling out of the v-neck that is. I don’t usually like that word. Tits. I rarely use it. But those things are in no way shape or form polite enough to be called breasts.

“You guys are new,” she says, popping her gum and flinging her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Just here for the week,” says Max and I have to give the man credit. He glances at her cleavage because it’s pretty much shoved in his face, but after that he keeps his focus glued above the neckline.

And I have to give
myself
credit because, under the table, his hand is very busy sliding up my thigh and under my skirt. I spread my legs a little. I swear it’s a reflex. But reflex or not, Max takes me up on the offer and runs a finger across my slick folds. And why am I giving myself credit for all this? Because while it’s happening, I keep a pleasant smile on my face and manage not to dissolve into a series of wild moans and orgasmic sighs.

“Well congratulations,” says the waitress, oblivious to what’s happening. “You might be Bliss’s first and only tourists.” She drops a hand on Dominic’s shoulder and gives him a sultry smile that has Dakota’s mouth dropping open. “What brings ya here?”

Dakota smiles sweetly at the girl and flashes her wedding ring as she points at me and Max. “Those two are following in our footsteps and getting married.” She pointedly takes Dominic’s hand and he drops his shoulder to bump lightly against hers.

“Married?” The blonde’s eyes light up as she looks at us.

Max stops playing with me under the table, takes my hand and kisses it. His finger leaves a wet streak on my palm. “Luckiest man ever,” he says and I squeeze my thighs shut as a surge of desire pools there.

“Well that’s cause for real congratulations now, isn’t it? First round’s on the house then, alright? I’m Ashley and I’ll take super good care of ya’ll.” She takes our drink orders, scribbling them down on her little notepad and then beams at me. “I just love a good love story,” she says and then heads back to the bar, her hips swaying in the teeniest pair of shorts I’ve ever seen.

“I think that was the classiest deflection I’ve ever seen,” Maya says to Dakota. “So smooth.”

“When you’ve got a husband as sexy as I do, you get used to fending off the women.” Dakota slaps my hand. “Just wait, you’ll see. You’ll have to come up with your own way to let the ladies know your man is taken.”

Out of nowhere, silence descends on Fantastic Sam’s. Surprised by the sudden change of atmosphere, we all look up in time to see a roundish man waddle onto the stage. Sweat drips from his ruddy face, but the guy has a smile you can’t help but like. The crowd cheers and claps and he holds up a hand and shakes his head.

“You all know I’m not the one who gets the applause,” he says in a nasally twang. “I just own the place.” He grins, pleased with himself, and the crowd chuckles. “Ya’ll ready for some music?”

The place goes crazy with a thunderous noise. Each and every customer here slapping their hands on the tables and stomping their feet into the floor. Dakota makes a face at me and joins in and before I know it, our whole table is slapping and stomping with the best of them

“I’m betting this man needs no introduction, but I have to introduce him anyway. Ladies … gentlemen…” The man, I assume he’s Sam, scans the crowd and waggles his head like he’s coming to a decision. “And since no one deserving to be called those things is here tonight, I’ll just say, hey! You guys! It’s time to welcome Cole Bennett to the stage!”

The bar erupts in laughter and more slapping and stomping as a tall young man takes the stage, a guitar slung over his shoulder. He’s as tan as he is blonde and has the strong arms and weathered skin of a man who spends a lot of time outside, working hard. He grins and there’s something in his eyes that reminds me of Max. He takes a seat without saying a word and picks a few chords on the guitar before starting into a song that has his fingers flying over the fretboard.

His voice is as weathered as his face and just as beautiful, lending a layer of depth and emotion to the song that I wasn’t prepared to find in a little bar like this. The patrons of Fantastic Sam’s are rapt, tapping their feet and smiling despite themselves. A few people get up to dance. I consider asking Max if he wants to join them, but dancing to something this fast and upbeat in a skirt this short while not wearing any panties seems like a bad idea. The last thing I want to be remembered for here in Bliss is as that one girl who flashed an entire bar.

Ashley returns, a laden tray balanced on her shoulder. “He’s good, isn’t he,” she says with pride in her voice as she serves us. “That’s his wife over there. And his mom. They come every time he plays.” She points to an elegant blonde woman—her hands resting on a very pregnant belly—and an older woman sitting next to her. Each of them stare up at the man onstage, utterly rapt and pleased as could be.

“It’s sweet, isn’t it?” asks Ashley. “Like I said, I just have a thing for a good love story.”

We drink and talk, our conversation mostly focusing on how Dominic met Dakota and how I met Max and how we fell in love. Maya listens but doesn’t contribute much and I recognize the patented, fake London smile that stretches her face but doesn’t reach her eyes. The one we all use when we don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings and we sure don’t want anyone to see our own feelings have been hurt. As far as I know, she isn’t seeing anyone and hasn’t seen anyone since high school. She’s been too busy living up to the demands of our parents, getting her medical degree and surviving her residency in pediatric surgery.

I’m not the only one to see it and when Dominic asks Dakota to dance, Max takes a moment to catch my eye and then offers his hand to Maya. She tries to turn him down but there’s no denying Max of anything once he’s set his mind to it. Before she even knows what’s happening, she’s out on the dance floor laughing and smiling as Max spins her around like he knows what he’s doing.

Just when I think I’ve found all the reasons I could possibly find to love this man, he goes and does something to show me that I’ve only just begun to understand how deep his heart goes.

Thankfully, the musician switches to a slow song as Max brings Maya back to the table. After watching all the acrobatics he just put her through, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll flash each and every single person here at Fantastic Sam’s the moment Max gets me moving to an upbeat song. I wonder what Ashely would think of our love story then?

Instead, Cole strums a lilting melody and croons into the microphone, his dusty voice the perfect back drop to the rush of Max’s breath as it whispers past my ear. He holds me tight. Presses my body to his, and we sway cheek to cheek. I close my eyes, utterly and completely in love with this moment. Determined to remember this song, this feeling, this … everything … for the rest of my life.

Max drops a hand to my lower back and then slowly spins us so he’s hiding me from view before he slides that hand down over my ass and up under my skirt. The touch of his skin to mine is shocking in a public place. I gasp and freeze in surprise, but he’s strong enough to keep me moving. And just like that, his hand his gone and he spins us back so that I’m totally visible again. His dick hardens and presses into me and I’m so wet I don’t know how I’m going to sit down without making a mess.

“I want to be inside you,” he whispers, his words hiding under the music. “My thick cock filling your pussy.”

My breath catches. Max isn’t one for talking and I’ve never had anyone say something like that to me. Ever.

And I love it.

“I want you down on your knees,” he continues. “I want you licking and sucking my dick, pleasing me.” He rubs his hand on my back. “All for me. All of you is for me.”

I nod, not sure how to respond.

“Say it.” He pulls back enough to look me in the eye. The whole rest of the world disappears from around us. It’s just him and me, swaying in time to the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.

“Say what?” I ask.

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

“Oh, Max. I am so yours. I was yours before I even met you, I just didn’t know it yet. And I’ll be yours for the rest of our life.”

“Damn straight.” His voice is thick with emotion and for the first time ever, I think of the sky when I look into his eyes.

The song ends and Max escorts me back to our table where we have fresh drinks waiting for us.

“Damn guys,” says Maya, waving a mostly empty margarita glass our way. “What the hell was that?”

I take a seat, careful to keep the fabric of the skirt covering my ass. “What was what?”

“That.” Maya gestures towards the dance floor as Dakota and Dominic join us.

“You saw it too?” Dominic asks as he pulls back Dakota’s chair.

Dakota nods and widens her eyes. “I know I sure did.”

Panic strums through my body and I take a long drink of my Long Island.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Please don’t let them be talking about my ass.

“See what?” I’m pretty sure I manage to sound confused rather than terrified.

“That wasn’t a slow dance.” Maya takes a long drink of her margarita. “That was foreplay.”