Married in Vegas: In His Arms

When I stared at him he said, “Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t.”

“For months, you had me so wound up, I thought I would split in two.”

“You didn’t hurt for girls.”

“And everytime I let any of them get close enough to kiss me, they were disappointed because nothing could compare to you.”

“You waited for me?” I asked.

“I’d wait a lifetime for you.”

I thought back to my message. “But you said—”

“There’s only one forever. You’re it. If you walk away, I’ll give up on that idea. So I need to know if you’re going to run again?”

For the first time, that answer was the easiest I’d ever give.

“No, never again.”

He leaned across the dash and took my chin in his. I pressed my mouth to his and almost pulled away when he didn’t immediately kissed me back. But he threaded his fingers through my hair and drew me to him.

“I need you.” He groaned and pulled me over into his lap.

He was hard and I was needy.

“We can’t here,” I panted and tried to move back into the passenger seat.

“Don’t move,” he said in a voice that bordered on a demand. He put the car in gear. “It’s only a short drive.”

My old house wasn’t far from our high school. In less than two minutes he parked in the middle of an empty dark parking lot.

“Take off your jeans,” he said.

This time he let me move away to accomplish that task while he pulled down his pants. My core was so wet and ready, I climbed back over and sank on his shaft with no prep work needed.

“Fuck yeah,” he said as I began to ride him setting my pace.

The orgasm might have been the finish line, but I wouldn’t have minded taking hours to get there he felt so good deep inside me.

“Yeah baby, just like that,” he said gripping my waist so tight, I’d likely bruise as I worked my hips to add pressure against my clit with each pass. But I didn’t care. I wanted him and had for years.

“I’m going to fill your belly with our kids,” he said.

Panic almost took me out the moment, but Cam understood.

“If it doesn’t work the first time, we keep trying. And if that doesn’t work, we adopt. We will have a family,” he said.

Those words may not sound sexy, but they were enough to have me spasming around him as he came.

I collapsed on his chest breathing heavy. That didn’t stop me from hearing his next words.

“I love you, and always have.”

He wrapped those strong arms around me as I said it back. “I love you now and forever.”

Then his arms fell away and panic widened my eyes.

“You think I’m letting go?” he said, seconds before crushing his lips to mine.

Long minutes later, we parted and he reached for something in console.

We may have been half naked, but it was the most romantic moment.

“Be my wife, in name body and soul. Be my forever?” he asked.

“I will,” and let him slip the large diamond ring on my finger.

“Is this the ring from the black bag?”

He nodded. I had vague memories of going to a jewelry store after I’d had my Elvis wedding. I remember pointing to a one carat diamond. He wouldn’t hear of it.

“You know we have to do this for real, Chrissy.”

I leaned back and punched his chest, ignoring the idea that our parents would want to see us walk down the aisle. “Now that I’m your wife, you have to stop calling me that.”

It should have been weird to have a conversation while he was still buried deep inside me, but it oddly it wasn’t.

“Why do you hate it? I’ve always called you that.”

He had and when I was twelve and so crushing on him it was cute until his friends used it against me. I’d come over to see Eddie, but had gone through trouble of taking time to pick the right shirt that clung just enough so Cam wouldn’t see me as a little kid. But braces and acne worked against me.

I’d walked into the house and Cam stood there checking me out. I couldn’t hide my blush of excitement and his friend Blaine called me out on it.

“Chissy’s got a crush on you,” he sang on repeat as I longed for a hole to climb into.

Cam had only grinned at me before Eddie showed up to stop them. But Blaine continued the mantra every time I saw him until I hated the name.

When I finished the story, Cam smirked at me. “Blaine had a crush on you.”

“He did not,” I said.

“Did too. When you showed up freshman year, you were all he could talk about until I warned him he wouldn’t have hands if he ever touched you.”

“Wow.”

“Exactly, besides, you’re my Chrissy, not his.”

He drew me back down for a lingering kiss until a tap on the window startled us both.