Page 78 of Don’t Look Back

Ryan pressed a hasty kiss to my lips before his tongue darted over to my neck and he lowered himself to his knees. My pants were peeled away from my skin, and I felt his hot, wet mouth on my thighs. My heart rate steadied. My head dropped against the door, and my eyes fluttered shut. I kept a cautious hand on the back of Ryan’s neck, careful not to mess up his perfect hair. “Baby, you don’t have to do this right now,” I said, secretly hoping he ignored me.

“Yes, I do, because it’s the only way to get you to calm down. Now shut up and let me suck your dick.”

Well, who was I to question the man? I dropped my free hand to his shoulder as he sucked the tip of my cock into his mouth, swallowing inch by tantalizing inch. I moaned, biting my lip to keep the sound from growing too loud.

Ryan expertly swallowed me down until I hit the back of his throat. My hips involuntarily punched forward, and his tight, wet heat constricted around me. Goosebumps appeared across my skin with Ryan’s tongue trailing a path over my length. I never lasted very long when he had his way with me, but this would be a personal best.

Between work and hurricane season, we hadn’t seen each other in six months. The longer his lips stayed wrapped around my dick, the more I felt every second of it. I don’t know how anyone expected us to make it through the entire day without jumping each other.

Ryan pulled off, swirling his tongue around the swollen head of my cock before pressing the ball of… a recently acquired tongue stud into the sensitive bundle of nerves. The unexpected sensation sent me tumbling right over the edge.

With my teeth still buried in my lip, I uttered a muffled curse as I came down Ryan’s throat. He swallowed, drawing even more out of me. Eyes cutting to me, he rose to his feet and straightened his clothes.

“Better?” he asked, that cocky grin complimenting his swollen lips.

I nodded as I tried to catch my breath and re-dressed myself. “When the fuck did you pierce your tongue?” I panted.

Ryan’s grin widened into a knowing smile. “A few months ago. I wanted to surprise you with it on our wedding night but since someone—” he paused and turned to grab my discarded tie off the floor, “—decided to get in a fight with his tie, I thought it might help you relax.”

Ryan looped the thin strip of silk around my neck and effortlessly executed a perfect Windsor knot. He tightened it to nestle at the base of my throat, tucking it into my jacket before running his hands over the lapels.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to get some water and run some ice over my lips. Are you ready to do this now?”

My eyes locked onto his. “Are you sure you want to be my husband?”

“Yes.” Ryan’s hands hadn’t let go of my jacket. “I was sure the night I met you. I was sure the day you left to move to New York. I was sure the day I showed up at your restaurant, and I was sure at the river last year when I got on one knee and asked you to be mine forever. I’m not changing my mind about this Genie Coleman. You’re stuck with me.”

I rolled my eyes to cover my blush. “Oh no, what ever will I do?”

Ryan tugged me down to his level, slipping his tongue between my lips. I hummed, keeping the kiss brief before my own taste on his mouth really made us late. “Let’s get married.”

“Let’s get married,” he echoed.

Ryan took a deep breath and fanned himself before he unlocked the door and we stepped out.

“Did you get some socks for those cold feet?” Charlie asked, falling into step beside me.

I smirked. “Something like that.”

I stopped at the end of the bridge that connected our resort to the beach, taking in the amount of people seated across the sand. Charlie walked ahead of me, the instrumental version of “Die a Happy Man” played over the speakers.

Charlie reached the end of the aisle, and that was my cue. As ready as I was, I was surprised to find that I had to mentally remind myself to put one foot in front of the other—walking on sand was hard. My dad stood behind Charlie with tears filling his blue eyes.

As I reached the end of the aisle, I let out a breath. Charlie gave me a reassuring squeeze, and I felt my dad’s hand reach around her to do the same. My legs shook and I squirmed in place, feeling my nerves build again.

“Breathe, Gene,” Charlie whispered. “Close your eyes, and breathe.”

I did, taking two deep breaths before Charlie spoke again. “Now look at your husband.”

I lifted my head, prying my eyes open in slow motion.

Breathing? What’s breathing? Ryan’s hair whipped around in the wind. He walked slowly, Marisol holding onto his arm. She wore a matching emerald dress to Charlie, covered with a matching jacket to ward off the Staten Island chill.

Ryan made it halfway down the aisle before my vision blurred.

Damn wind.

I pressed my fingers into my eyes, but it was in vain. The second I looked up at him again, there was no stopping the tears anymore. As my husband stopped in front of me, the sun shone in his eyes, reflecting off the streaks of gold. I couldn’t even hear what the officiant was saying, but when Marisol stepped forward to kiss my cheek and place Ryan’s hand in mine, I knew it was time for vows.