Page 77 of Bossy Bride: Emma and Jesse

Then we get out of the tank and change into new clothes. Karen picked out a reception dress—and I have to admit, it’s kinda pretty. A short, yellow sundress that shows off my almost perpetual tan now that Jesse and I have been spending nearly every weekend in Key West.

My hair is blow-dried and left loose. My make-up is applied by the same professional team from the Shotgun Wedding and I come to the conclusion that Karen isn’t a kraken after all. I might even have to like her after all this effort she put into me and my happiness. She brought her whole family to Vegas for the wedding. Turns out Chauncey and Chance are about the same age as Mila’s kids, Donny and Stephanie. They spent the entire day at the resort pool.

All the Fingers’ Fantasy Wedding people are there too. The rollercoaster couple even ditched their regularly scheduled reception plans to be a part of this. The entire cast of the Treasure Island battle comes dressed as pirates and entertains the guests. Sven and his skydiving crew are drinking at the bar with my brothers, and both the bride’s and groom’s families from the Shotgun Wedding come still dressed in their wedding-day finery.

It’s… pretty fucking perfect.

Even if I didn’t plan a single moment of it.

I watch my bossy mother from across the room. She’s dancing with my father. They are the most adorable couple even though my father towers over her. She’s resting her head against his chest, eyes closed, smiling like this is the best day of her life.

And me?

Well, I’m slow-dancing with my new husband. Jesse is dressed in tan linen pants and a white linen button-down shirt that’s mostly not buttoned, showing off his spectacular tanned chest muscles.

We’re exhausted, and sore, and excited, and happy, and ready to get the fuck out of here and be alone.

Miles and Christopher are already waiting for us on the little jet. We’re spending our wedding night in the jet bedroom as we fly home for Christmas day. Everyone else is taking the Bright Berry Monster.

But we’re not going where Jesse thinks we’re going.

My mother isn’t the only Dumas woman who can plan a surprise.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - JESSE

I walk my bride backwards as we enter the jet. And when we get inside the jet bedroom, I wink at Miles and pull the pocket doors closed.

“Finally,” I say, laughing as I kiss her mouth.

Her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she falls back onto the bed. And then I just… look at her. In that bright yellow sun dress. She put her hair up in pig tails on the way over here. Even though thirteen years have passed since that first day I saw her in Mallory Square, it feels like we’ve been together the whole time.

Hell, it feels like we’ve lived a lifetime in the past twenty-four hours.

“Mrs. Boston,” I whisper. “You are my jam.”

She giggles and sits up. Then in a flurry of movement, she’s got her dress over her head and tosses it off to the side. She grabs my shirt and pulls me onto the bed with her. I crawl up her legs and she slowly lies back until her head hits the pillow. She’s still holding my shirt with tight fists. Like she never wants to let me go.

I never want her to let me go.

But she has more in mind than just keeping me prisoner in her tight grip. Because one hand deftly pops the button on my pants and slides down inside, holding me in her palm.

I close my eyes, reminding myself to enjoy each moment.

But then she’s sliding my pants and briefs over my hips, and I’m kicking off my shoes. I brace myself over her with one hand and use the other one to reach back and pull my shirt over my head.

That goes flying and then we’re skin on skin, the heat of our stomachs melding together as I kick off the rest of my clothes and kiss her lips.

There’s a version of this night that starts with dirty talk, a bunch of “Fuck me nows” and “I want your big, hard cock inside mes.” A version where lust takes over and we get lost in the heat of the moment. A version where this is filthy, hot, sweaty sex. A version where I fuck her face and come in her throat.

And yeah. All that sounds pretty good.

Tomorrow.

But tonight… nah. I don’t want to get lost in the lust or lose myself in the moment.

I want to savor this woman.

I ease over until I’m resting on my side, pulling down her bra so I can put her nipple in my mouth. I kiss and nip it as my fingers slip underneath the waistband of her pretty panties and begin pulling them over her hips. She lifts her legs up, bends her knees, and those panties come off without any real effort. I toss them away, then pop the clasp of her strapless bra and it falls to the side. My tongue is busy swirling around her nipple while my other hand grabs her breast firmly and squeezes.