Gotta Have Fate (Winslow Brothers)

I grin down at her and lean forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Proud of you, baby.”

“Thank you.” She smiles against my mouth. “And I’m glad your bachelor party was fun.”

“Sort of fun,” I correct, and she giggles. “But you know what would make it even better?”

“Your bachelor party?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The one that’s over?”

“Time is relative, baby.” I shrug and lean down to whisper in her ear. “You know what I want to feel?”

She shivers. “What?”

“I want to feel that perfect pussy of yours wrapped around my cock.”

“You do?” Her now-heated eyes meet mine, and I nod.

“Oh yes. I. Do.”

She licks her lips, and it’s my undoing.

Flipping her onto her back, I make quick work of her panties and my boxer briefs, and she moans when I press the tip of my cock to the apex of her thighs.

Fuck yes.

Slowly, taking my sweet time, I slide inside her until I’m pressed to the hilt.

Char whimpers, and I stare down at her, locking our eyes together.

I start up a rhythm, building momentum with each thrust and encouraging more moans to spill from her lips like a melody.

It was a long night of ups and downs, but right now, with our bodies connected and Charlotte’s eyes on mine, all is right with the world again.

I love her and she loves me, and at the end of the day, that’s all we’ll ever really need.

Remy

“So, let’s all lift our glasses and offer the happy couple an early congratulations! Love you, guys!”

Glasses clink with one another as my baby sister Winnie wraps up her rehearsal dinner speech, and Charlotte and I lean toward each other to kiss.

Less than twenty-four hours from now, this gorgeous woman is going to be my wife.

Mrs. Winslow. Damn, that has a nice ring to it.

I smile as I pull away, and Charlotte returns the expression, but the warmth of her happiness stops just short of reaching her eyes.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her toward me, my lips skimming the surface of her ear as I whisper, “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, seeming to clear it of something before turning to place a sweet kiss to the hinge of my jaw. “Of course. By tomorrow night, I’m going to be your wife.”

My smile renews at her use of one simple word, and she rubs at the little dimple that’s surely formed in my left cheek. It’s just a tiny divot, basically imperceptible to the untrained eye, but Charlotte’s said since the day she met me that it’s one of her favorite features of mine.

The fancy restaurant my mom rented out in Manhattan is filled with our nearest and dearest, here to eat and drink and celebrate our impending nuptials, but I can only seem to pay attention to her.

I clasp my hand around her wrist and hold it up to my face, cherishing the way it feels to have her touch me like that on a night as special as this.

It’s been a long road for me—growing up—but I couldn’t be more ready to commit myself to building a family of my own and to melding it with the family my mom already created.

“And I’m going to be your husband.” I playfully waggle my brows. “I can’t fucking wait.”

Charlotte giggles and presses her body up and into me, placing her lips on mine once again. Jude groans from my side, five chairs down, seated between Flynn and Ty. He feigns disgust and teasingly slams his head onto the table. “Oh my God, I think I’m going to be sick. Is anyone else going to be sick? The romance floating around this room is quite literally nauseating.”

Always the fucking jokester.

I flip Jude the bird, still kissing my soon-to-be-wife, and her responding snort vibrates against my mouth. By the time I pull away from her pliant lips, Aunt Paula is chiming in on my baby brother’s antics.

“Oh, stop it, Jude,” she says with a laugh, reaching over to fix my Uncle Brad’s tie. “They’re getting married. They’re in love. This is how it’s supposed to be.”

“And if you’re really lucky like me, it’ll still be that way thirty-three years down the road,” Brad says, grabbing his wife by the shoulders, spinning her around in her chair, and leaning her over in his lap so he can press a huge, passionate kiss to her lips.

Winnie giggles and claps, looking like a younger carbon copy of our mom who is doing the same right next to me.

Flynn wolf-whistles.

But of course, per usual, Ty joins Jude in the repulsed façade. “Oh my God!” he yells out in feigned dramatics. “My eyes!”

“Don’t challenge me, boys,” my uncle retorts on a laugh. “At tomorrow’s reception, I won’t hesitate to get your aunt out on that dance floor and grind on her like I’m Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.”