Page 21 of Accidentally Marrying the Prisoner
“You two are just the cutest! Smile and say ‘newlyweds’,” Mom says from the side, holding her phone up, squinting as she taps around on the screen. “Oh shoot, my finger was in the way. Try again.” And so it goes that we end up having an impromptu photo shoot, Mom directing us to turn this way and that. She goes so far as to pluck a bouquet of yellow roses from a nearby bush for Mirabeth to hold, snapping pictures until she has enough without her finger blurring them to fill a wedding album.
“Wanna get out of here?” Mirabeth asks while I drag my feet back toward the crowd once we’ve patiently explained to Mom how to send a photo via text.
“Hell yeah, I do,” I say with relief. “Love you, Mom. Thanks for the party,” I shout over my shoulder, sweeping Mirabeth up into the cradle of my arms. “Call you soon!”
Mirabeth whoops and laughs as I jog back down the strip of grass on the side to the wooden gate before Mom can ask me to stay, and then I hightail it down the street to the Beetle. I’ve had more fun with Mirabeth in the past two days than I did in the five and a half years since Andrew first got his diagnosis, and I press a big, fat kiss to Mirabeth’s cheek before I drop her in the passenger seat.
“Where to, princess?” I ask, pushing her hair behind her ear, toying with her dangling, faux-diamond earring. Maybe one day I’ll be able to afford to give her real diamonds. She certainly deserves them after all she’s done for me in such a short amount of time.
“Home. I need a nap after that steak,” she says, rubbing her stomach, resting her bouquet on her lap.
“Coming right up,” I say, sneaking in a little pat on her lower belly before I lope around the car and headhome, driving a whole three miles per hour above the speed limit.
“How’d it go?” I ask Mirabeth from where I’m lying on the bed, petting Merlin, when she arrives home from her doctor’s appointment. I wanted to go with her, but she said that would be weird since she was due for her annual exam, whatever that entails. I was kind of hoping to find out, which she said was even weirder.
She hangs her purse on the hook I attached to the wall beside the front door and kicks off her sandals, lining them up with the rest of our shoes with an eye roll after I raise a brow. “Got it,” she says, holding up a small lunch sack-type bag with her new birth control prescription, then jumping onto the bed to lie beside me.
It’s a good thing she did, since we had another close call two nights ago when I had her on her back on the drafting table…and also last night, when I slipped into her from behind while she was taking off her makeup, having propped her right knee on the vanity. Her poor pussy has taken a beating over the course of our nine days of wedded bliss, but she hasn’t complained…much. And now I won’t have to pull out to finish cumming on her stomach or ass any longer. Although…I might from time to time, if only to rub it into her skin, which I’ve funnily enough come to anticipate.
I roll over on top of Mirabeth and flip her sexy pleated skirt up that she let me pick out for her this morning. I wiggle until she spreads her legs for me, grinding my growing erection against her panties. “You know what this means? I can cum deep, deep, deep inside you,” I say, pushing her white T-shirt up to nuzzle my nose between her breasts. Her tits are just the right size for my palms, her cute nipples already budding in her nude bra. I lightly nip one, giving it a little lick through the fabric.
When I try to unhook her bra, though, she pushes me away and says with a little giggle, “Hold your horses, mister. It doesn’t work that fast.”
I roll back over, and Merlin rudely walks across my stomach to plop down on Mirabeth’s, purring as he rubs his head on her lower belly. I’ve done the same, lying with my head on her stomach while we watch TV at night. She’s my favorite pillow.
“How’d the Zoom meeting go?” she asks while she pulls out the insert that comes with the prescription, unfolding it like an old-fashioned paper map.
“I finished my re-training, and Boss put me on the schedule come Monday. Same hours, a slight bump in pay, and now he offers benefits.”
Like Mirabeth, my boss, Sam, has an online store selling artisanal items, though he’s in the woodworking field, designing, building, and shipping custom, high-end furniture that will last for generations. His business has grown enough that we no longer have to work out of his backyard shed, but a spacious, rented warehouse. I’ll be responsible once more for helping his sketches come to life.
“That’s great!” Mirabeth says.
It is, since I can add Mirabeth to my new, better health insurance plan in case any of our close calls turn out to be a lot closer than we expected.
“Did you finally get ahold of your mom?” I ask.
“No, she’s still dodging my calls,” she says, grumbling. “I tried swinging by her place again on the way home, but she wasn’t there. Or at least, she’s pretending not to be. But one of these days, I’ll catch her, yes, I will, and I’ll give her a piece of my mind.”
And when you do, I’ll give her a piece of mine…by thanking her profusely.
I start to doze the longer Mirabeth goes on reading the prescription insert, enjoying my last three days of leisure before I go back to work, but it’s her softly muttered, “Oh geez,” that stirs me.
“What’s up?” I ask.
She points to a section. “It says side effects may include nausea, headaches, breast tenderness, weight gain, mood changes, and best of all, motherfrickin’ blood clots, liver disorders, and heart attacks.”
“Is that normal?” I take the insert from her, my brows lifting higher and higher as I read what is essentially an entire novel’s worth of potential side effects and warnings.
“I don’t know. I didn’t read it last time. I don’t think I felt anything different.”
“You were on birth control before? With who?”
She cocks her head at me. “None of your business.”
“Sure it is. I’m your husband.”
“Fake husband,” she challenges, ignoring my huff. “And besides, millions of people take birth control without issue. I’m sure Alisa did, too, unless you only used condoms.”
