Dear Future Ex-wife

“Hold my hair,” she says with a wicked but seductive look in her eyes.

Harley gathers her hair over her shoulder for me to take, her other hand still on my cock as she drops to the floor in front of me. I fist her curls and yank her head closer. Her eyes find mine, and then she sticks out her tongue to lick the head. I hiss when she sucks just the tip into her mouth, so fucking slow as she works my shaft, killing me with each flick of her wrist and tongue. When she shoves the rest of my cock in her mouth, my eyes slam shut from the intense sensation that rocks through me.

“Fuck, Harley,” I groan as I watch her take as much of my cock as she can fit in her mouth. Her eyes start to water after a while, and I wipe a fallen tear from her cheek. “Such a good girl,” I whisper as my orgasm builds, blood rushing to the head of my cock. “My girl.” I swipe a strand of hair from her eyes so I can look into them as I come.

Harley surprises me again by swallowing all of my cum, rolling her tongue across her lips to wipe them clean. I can’t remember the last time a woman made me come that hard. When Harley stands, I slide my arm around her back and crush her lips with a breathtaking kiss. We stay this way for a while, tasting ourselves on each other, consumed by the best fucking orgasms of our lives.

Our perfect moment ends with my cell phone ringing. The obnoxious tone cuts through the silence like a knife. We stare at each other once our lips separate, pretending it’s just us. Eventually, the caller gives up, and we’re left in perfect silence once more. But it doesn’t last long. Another call buzzes in my pocket.

“You should get that.” Harley slips from my embrace and walks over to the couches in the living room.

With an irritated groan, I remove the phone from my pocket and answer the call. “What? I’m busy right now, Stefan.”

“We have a problem, bro. Another issue with Ashborn. Where did you go?”

“I’m around,” I shoot back.

“Meet us in the war room in five.”

That’s what we call the game room in my father’s house. Every major idea we conceived as a team started in there.

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before the line goes dead. I shake my head, annoyed as I stuff the phone back into my pocket.

“Everything okay?” Harley asks.

“We have to go back to the house.” I fix my pants and then close the distance between us, extending my hand to help her up from the couch. “I’m sorry. Stefan needs me. There’s a problem with Ashborn.”

“For a CTO, you’re way too hands-on. Couldn’t someone on your team help him?”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, I guess I like having control over the projects. And Ashborn was my game before Stefan commandeered it.”

She chuckles. “Everyone knows you’re the brains behind most of the tech at Queen Takes King.” Harley cups my cheek with her hand. “You’re an evil genius, King.”

I press my lips to hers. I love you, Queen, I want to say. I love you so fucking much my chest feels like it’s going to explode from being so full.

Chapter Twenty

Nate

Two days before the wedding, we fly to Nassau on the company jet as one big happy family. My dad and Stefan sit across from me with snifters of brandy clasped in their hands. Jonathan passes a glass to me, and the four of us toast to the future of Queen Takes King.

“To the union of our families,” Jonathan says.

“It’s been a long time coming if you ask me,” my dad says.

I cock my head at him. “Is that so?”

“Sure,” Dad says. “You and Harley were inseparable as kids. This was bound to happen. I’d hoped it would be under different circumstances.”

Harley passed out twenty minutes after takeoff, leaving me to deal with our fathers. She was up late packing and stressing, terrified she would forget something. She’s been down for the count for the last hour, snoring softly with her head turned away from me.

Stefan tips his glass to his mouth, keeping his opinions to himself. He’s told me on several occasions that he thinks I’m making the worst mistake of my life. Our parents divorced when I was eight and Stefan was six. Neither of us believed much in love after our mother ran off with an investment banker from Manhattan. Harley grew up with a similar situation, which created an even stronger bond between us.

With our fathers fully immersed in their passion projects, they weren’t around much. Our mothers quickly became bored housewives with too much time on their hands. Harley was raised by nannies, and because of that, she practically lived at my house. She had it much worse than me. At least my dad was around on the weekends. He never missed any of our games or school functions and even coached my baseball team for a few years.