Marrying Ember(7)

“Open your eyes,” I commanded, my words spilling out in disorganized ecstasy.

Ember lifted her head, her pupils overtaking her eyes. As they rested on mine for a few seconds, I felt the tension building in the way her movements became less graceful. More staggered. More desperate.

“I’m …” Ember trailed off as she clenched around me, pulsing hard and fast. Her eyes stayed on me for a few seconds before she threw her head back once more, calling my name over and over as her voice bounced off the walls of our house.

Normally I can enjoy the fullness of her orgasm before I’m brought to my own. Not this time. Between the high anxiety I’d been dealing with over proposing to her, and nearly blowing that all up earlier, and the way her chest heaved under her breaths, I couldn’t hold on anymore.

I thrusted her down, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her tightly to me as I buried my face in her neck. Her orgasm continued to move through her as mine came. We moaned and panted together as our bodies came to rest and the only thing I could hear was the desire in my heart for this amazing woman. One who I desperately wanted to call my wife.





Despite my early efforts to screw myself over completely, Ember and I enjoyed the weekend the way we’d intended to. Emotionally far away from everyone else in The Six, we only left the bed to go to the bathroom, or move to the couch. It seemed like a good idea at the time to have my girlfriend naked all weekend. That is until Monday morning came and we were shoulder to shoulder with her parents and all of their friends.



“You look as worn out as I feel.” Regan spoke dryly as we loaded gear under the bus for leg number two of our summer tour.

“If I look anything like you do, Kane, kill me now.” I laughed as I slammed one of the compartments shut on the large RV.

From the depths of sarcasm rose Georgia in a fluttery mock-Southern accent. “Why, no one could possibly ever look like you do, Bo Cavanaugh. You’re just a dream, wrapped in a milkshake, dipped in—”

“Okay, okay we get it. He’s super hot,” Regan exaggerated while shaking his head.

Georgia lifted way up onto her tip-toes. “You’re super hot,” she whispered into his ear before she kissed it.

Just after Georgia waved goodbye and Regan wiped the smirk from his face, the RVs were loaded and we were waiting for a few stragglers. Namely, Willow.

Ember marched down the stairs of the lead vehicle. “Are we set? I heard the doors underneath close.”

“Just waiting for Willow,” Regan rattled off.

Ember looked between the two of us, took a deep breath, and walked slowly back into the RV.

“That could have gone worse.” Regan sounded relieved as he patted my shoulder.

“I just hope she’s not saving it for when she sees Willow face-to-face.” By avoiding the rest of the band all weekend, we’d also managed to avoid talk of the overly sexualized flower-child arch nemesis.

Regan adjusted the straps on his backpack as he slid his sunglasses on. “It can’t be any worse than Willow trying to hit on you, right?” His tone was hopeful as he smiled.

“Let’s hope not,” I groaned and followed Regan onto the RV, where Ember had cleared space for the three of us to sit.

“Hey, where are they going?” Ember shouted up to her dad, who was at the wheel, as she pointed out the window. The second RV in our tiny caravan was pulling out of the parking lot.

Ashby addressed Ember through the rearview mirror. “They’ve got to get gas. We’ll catch up with them when Willow gets here.”

Regan and I shot each other a look.

“She’s riding in here?” Ember cleared her throat, her new tactic for avoiding a nasty tone in her voice when she really wanted to deliver one.

“That’s not going to be a problem, is it, dear? We all thought you two girls could use some time together to … get over … whatever the heck is going on.” Raven didn’t look up as she paged her way through a paperback. There was nothing on the cover but abs and a guitar. I assume there was a title, but even I couldn’t see one through the expertly organized masculinity.

I held my breath. I was certain Ember wouldn’t tell her parents about Willow’s accusation that she and Ember were half sisters, but her mother’s casual attitude about their apparent rivalry was bound to make Ember’s head explode one of these days.

“It’s not a problem for me,” Ember asserted. “Does Willow know she’ll be cozy with us for the next several hours, at the very least?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Ashby said with a smile as he opened the RV door for Willow, who bounded up the steps with much more pep than awaited her in the cabin of the vehicle.

“Hey, guys …” Her brightness slid away with her words as she looked at Ember.

Before any of us had a chance to say anything, there was a loud pounding on the door.

Just behind Willow marched a much shorter, and much louder, Georgia. Willow turned to face her, having to look down to meet Georgia’s eyes. That didn’t seem to affect Georgia as she pointed emphatically at Willow.

“Listen here,” she spoke to Willow without so much as looking in our direction, laying on her thickest Eastern Massachusetts accent, “we both know the kind of shit you pull. We also know you won’t be pulling that with Regan, correct?”