INFLUENCED: A Good Girl, Bad Boy Love Story Page 23

  “I believe this is for you, Miss Reese,” a female employee said, as she handed me a bouquet of pink roses, exactly what I’d dreamed about.

  Spencer was giving me my day, exactly as I’d wanted it. He never had to do any of it. I would have gone down to the courthouse with him in some jeans and a t-shirt. He didn’t need to spoil me and give me everything I’d always wanted. God, I loved that man so hard.

  “Thanks,” I breathed as I tried to not allow the tears of joy to spill from my eyes.

  “Oh no, there are tears. Get me tissue,” the woman said, in her sweet southern accent, before handing me a few tissues.

  Gently dabbing my eyes, I took a deep breath and gave the woman a gentle smile as I handed her the tissues back.

  “Your ride has arrived. Mr. Grant will be waiting for you,” she informed me as I was led around a corner to face the front door and, to my surprise, instead of a car, which I’d expected, there was a beautiful white carriage that was pulled by a majestic white horse.

  My mouth was gaping open at the sight. That hadn’t been a part of my childhood dreams, but it might as well have been. I turned to the woman and took back the tissue I’d given her, because the waterways were threatening to spill over once more.

  I took in Savannah as the carriage took me towards my future. Spencer and I were doing this alone. It wasn’t that we didn’t want our families there, but we wanted to share the moment between us. We wanted the moments we said “I do” to be intimate.

  The closer the carriage took me to the park, the louder and harder my heart was beating. The gazebo came into view between a few trees and I felt my chest tighten.

  My eyes closed and I drew in a deep breath. There was no reason for anxiety. I wasn’t in danger and for once, I was doing what I wanted for my life. I was with the man I wanted to spend my life with and I was about to commit myself to that.

  The moment my eyes opened, I was staring right down the path where the gazebo was. I could make out a woman standing in the center and off to the side, was him. Spencer was handsome and I saw the smile spread across his face at the sight of me.

  The driver helped me from the carriage and down to the path. Walking, my eyes never left Spencers. The clicking of a camera went off, but I couldn’t tear my focus away from him.

  Spencer wore gray slacks with a white button up, no tie, and converse. He was sexy without trying and exactly how I’d imagined all those years ago.

  Drawing close to him, I saw the tears in his eyes as I ascended the stairs of the gazebo to reach him.

  Right away he took my hands into his, squeezing tight. No one could doubt how perfect that moment was. His eyes sparkled with love as the minister cleared her throat.

  “Hello, Megan. Spencer has asked me here to join the two of you in marriage. Is that correct?” The older woman with a gray bob asked me.

  I grinned and nodded before answering, “Yes.”

  “Your carriage driver is here as your witness,” she acknowledged, giving the man a nod. He smiled on at Spencer and I, who were lost in one another.

  “Spencer says you have your own vows. Megan, I will allow you,” the minister said as she took my bouquet and I took Spencer’s hands.

  My words didn’t come immediately, as the tears flowed first, but from the moment I did open my mouth, I was able to give Spencer the love and devotion that I’d held for him for as long as I could remember.

  “Spencer Grant, I’ve loved you forever. I was a ten year old girl when I first wrote wedding vows to you. I was possibly a little delusional,” I laughed and Spencer chuckled as he squeezed my hands. “But--I don’t know. Something told me we were meant to be. As ten year old Megan, I loved you more than Mr. Bear loves Misses Rabbit, and more than Ron Weasley loved Hermione Granger. Ten year old me wanted you to be her waffley-wedding husband.” I took one of my hands from Spencer’s hold and wiped my tears away.

  “Today, I love you more than anyone could know. You’ve been there for me in my lowest moments. You held me and let me know that everything would be alright. You’ve allowed me to be myself when I’d lost myself in the person that others wanted me to be. You’ve allowed me to shine when my light was going out. Spencer, I want to be your wife. I want to spend every moment I can loving you through the challenges and illnesses. I want to be with you through every storm, and I want to grow old with you until death separates our bodies, but not our souls. I love you.”

  “Spencer,” the minister gave Spencer the floor, tears streaming down his face.

  “Megan Nicole Reese, ‘Peaches’, I remember when you were born. I remember being dragged to the hospital and forced to take pictures holding the baby. I remember helping you learn to ride a bike and listening to you sing Disney songs at the top of your lungs. All of those memories are wrapped into the love I hold for you. You’ve been the one person to love me through my flaws and love me unconditionally. From the weeds you left on my car when you were nine to now, you’ve always been the one. I never saw it then, but I sure as hell see it now.”

  There was quite possibly not a dry eye in sight. Spencer and I were both crying, as well as the minister and carriage driver. Even a few tourists stopped and I could sniffling coming from their direction.

  “For the rest of my days, I promise to love you and care for you. I promise to protect you and keep you. I promise to be there for you, no matter the circumstances, and get through any challenge with you. I promise to love you even if we are dirt poor. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, my sweet Georgia peach. I love you so hard I feel like my chest is going to explode. You’re my fucking everything, Megan, and I’m claiming you as mine.”

  “Megan,” the minister choked out. I faced her as she handed me a platinum wedding band. “Repeat after me, this ring is a symbol of my love for you.”

  “This ring is a symbol of my love for you.” My hands were shaking as I held the ring at the tip of Spencer’s finger.

  “I give it openly to pledge my heart to you.”

  I took a deep breath and grinned at Spencer. “I give it openly to pledge my heart to you.” She gave me a nod and I slid it onto his finger.

  “Now Spencer,” she said as he pulled a ring from his pocket. It looked similar to my engagement ring.

  “Megan, this ring, that I had designed just for you, is a symbol of my love for you.” Spencer placed the ring at the top of my finger. “It represents our unending love and I give it openly to pledge my heart to you.”

  The moment he slid the ring on, I gasped as I understood the odd shape of the band. Both rings together made an infinity symbol in diamonds.

  “I think you both know what time it is,” the minister cheered. “I now pronounce you waffley wedding Husband and Wife. Mr. And Mrs. Spencer Grant. You may now kiss the bride.”

  In a split second, Spencer pulled me to him and gave me the most passionate devotion of his love in a beautiful and sensual kiss.

  “I love you, Mrs. Grant,” he murmured onto my lips.

  “I love you more, Mr. Grant.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Spencer

  “Oh my God, Spencer, what are you doing,” my beautiful wife squealed as I picked her off of her feet to carry her back inside my Savannah hotel room.

  “I told you, Peaches. Tradition. I’m carrying my wife into our room. You know, the old ‘over the threshold’ bit?”

  “But this isn’t our home, you’re supposed to do it at our home,” she retorted.

  “Actually, the purpose of that specific tradition is, now that I think about it, a bit morbid. Men carry their brides over whatever threshold is the first they encounter for living arrangements, and it was originally started by the ancient romans as a way to show the bride's family she wasn’t happy about leaving her father's home, so he was literally dragging her into his. Others say it’s done so that last minute evil spirits can’t enter the bride’s feet through her soles in order to curse the couple. Either way, it’s an odd tradition.”
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  “You never cease to amaze me, Mr. Grant.”

  “And you never cease to amaze me, Mrs. Grant.”

  Neither of us had stopped saying those words to each other over the past few hours. We also had a rough time keeping our mouths off of each other’s lips. It was like as soon as those words left the minister’s mouth proclaiming us husband and wife, something within the both of us snapped. No longer were we just Megan and Spencer. We were now one. Spegan, I believe was the term my beautiful bride coined.

  “Do you know how badly I want to peel you out of that dress?” I whispered to Megan as I lowered her to the floor.

  “No,” her coy response chimed through, “How badly?”

  “Let’s just say that, if I didn’t already know how much you loved that dress, I would cut it off of you, just to get to that pretty pussy underneath.”

  “Oh God,” I heard her moan, and watched her tongue peek out to wet her lips.

  “But we don’t have time for that right now,” I laughed, my erection tenting the front of my pants.

  “What!? Why not!”

  “Because, I’m taking my beautiful wife sightseeing,” I smiled, crossing my arms over my chest.

  I expected her to argue, or to plead. I even half expected her to get excited over the possibility of seeing Savannah. What I didn’t expect was for her to turn away with a scowl on her face and march to the floor to ceiling window.

  I laughed as she flung open the curtains and pointed. “There’s Savannah. I’ve seen it now, can I please take the dress off?”

  “Oh Peaches. Someone is being impatient,” I tsked, walking towards her and drawing the curtain closed. “Go in the bathroom and put on some comfortable clothes. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can begin tonight’s festivities.”

  She pouted at me, and I smacked her beautiful behind as she walked away.

  “You’re a jerk, Mr. Grant.”

  “And you’re fucking beautiful, Mrs. Grant.”

  Once the door to the bathroom was shut, I made my way over to my own luggage sitting on the stand and opened it, pulling out a pair of jeans and a simple polo. My plan involved a lot of walking, so I wanted us both to be relatively comfortable. I heard the door open to the bathroom, and turned, knowing she couldn’t be out of the dress that quickly.

  “Need a hand with the zip-- Oh my God, Peaches.”

  Standing in the doorway to the bathroom, one hand resting on the door jam, Megan stood, wearing a white corset, her breasts spilling out of the top. And if that wasn’t enough, the white frilly panties and the garter belt might be enough to give me a heart attack. Her shoes looked to be about ten feet tall, and her slim coco legs looked good enough to eat as they disappeared up her body.

  “Still want to go sightseeing, Spencer?” she asked, knowing full well what my answer would be.

  “Fuck Savannah,” I growled, taking hurried strides to the entrance of the bathroom.

  “You’re going to give me a stroke, woman. Where the fuck did you get this?” I asked, fingering the tiny garter belt.

  “You weren’t the only one who came prepared for this shindig, Mr. Grant. I have a few secrets up my sleeves,” she laughed as I stood gaping at her, unable to take in everything I wanted to see.

  “You don’t have any sleeves,” I chuckled, my lips finding the dip between her neck and her collarbone.

  “You’re very observant,” she mewled, her fingers tangling in my hair.

  “And you’re very talkative,” I countered, gripping her hair in my own hands and pulling her head back. “Perhaps I can find something else for that mouth to do?”

  WIthout responding, I watched as Megan sank to her knees. As much as I wanted this, there was something I wanted just a little bit more. As her hands came up to the button of my pants, I took a step back, and then another.

  Her confused frown made me smile. When my legs hit the edge of the bed, I sat down and then arched a finger at her.

  “Come here, Peaches.”

  It took a moment, but I saw when the lightbulb started shining above her head. She rested her palms on the floor, and made a show of crawling the ten feet separating us. With each stride, I watched as she wiggled her ass for my benefit. If she didn’t get to me soon though, I was going to explode like a teenage virgin inside of my pants, and that was not how I wanted our first time as husband and wife to be.

  When her head was close enough to my crotch to reach, she wasted no time lifting up to her knees and grasping onto the buckle of my belt. The image of wrapping my belt around my hands and delivering a light spanking to my dear wife plunged itself into my brain, but I ignored it. My girl would be into it, I was sure, but right now, my main focus was on the immense pleasure we were both about to receive.

  When I looked down at her, I couldn’t hold back the overload of feelings that attacked my person. This girl was all mine, forever and ever. I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Peaches,” I whispered, as her hands deftly undid my button and she slipped her fingers under the waistband of my boxers. The tips of her digits wrapped around the throbbing length and she stroked me, keeping me tucked away from view. She was teasing me, and she was doing a damn fine job of it. “You’re going to fucking kill me here,” I panted, too close to a finish line I was nowhere near ready to cross.

  Before I embarrassed myself, I jerked her hand away and quickly removed my clothes. I wanted her like I wanted nothing else in the entire world, and I was going to have her. She was, after all, my wife.

  “Get on the bed, Peaches,” I growled. “On your knees.”

  She did as I instructed with slow methodical movements, meant to push me to the edge of insanity. She knew what she was doing, and she was living in the control.

  “Like this, Spencer?” She asked, teasing me with her white panty clad ass open and exposed to my roaming eyes.

  I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer her. My cock, now fisted in my hand, pulsed, ready to explore the depths of my wife. I crawled onto the bed behind her, my eyes seeking out her own. Her hair was a wild mess around her but her eyes were locked onto mine, hooded and full of lust and love.

  There was no softness to my entrance. I had to have her now. Later, after our explorations, we could do the lovey-dovey husband and wife thing, but right now, I was a beast, trapped in his cage for too long, and she was unlocking my shackles and letting the beast go free.

  “Oh God, Spencer. Harder please,” she rocked her hips into me, as I continued my almost brutal assault. Grabbing onto her hip with my left hand, I curled over her body, wrapping my right arm around her, finding the place where we both met. My pelvis thrusted into her, throwing her forward, with only her shaky arms keeping her upright. With practiced fingers, I circled her clit until I could feel her inner walls clenching around me.

  “Spencer, oh fuck, Spencer. I’m going to--Oh God, I’m going to.”

  She never finished her sentence because her arms collapsed and we both fell into the soft mattress, climaxing and trembling together, my load emptying deep inside of my beautiful wife.

  A year ago, I was lost, trying to find my way through the shit storm I had created in Europe. Today, I was found. Married and satiated with the strongest, most valuable person I would ever meet. I laughed. I couldn’t stop it from slipping from my lips, the irony was too much to hold inside.

  “What’s so funny?” Megan giggled, crawling out from under me, and turning in my arms.

  “Life,” I responded, kissing her nose, her forehead, and her cheeks.

  “Life’s funny?”

  “I can’t explain it to you, Peaches, but just know, that I am the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

  “You don’t have to explain it, Spencer. I already knew that,” she laughed out loud.

  “Alright, Wench. It’s time we cleaned ourselves off and saw the sights. How does that sound?”

  “Wench?” She asked, crawling out of bed after me.

&nb
sp; “Yes. Wench. Now fetch me a beer, for I am parched,” I announced, planting one leg on the foot of the bed, the other one square on the floor, my junk dangling between my legs. I knew I looked like the naked, and ridiculous, version of the Captain Morgan man, but the smile on her face was worth it.

  “I can’t with you right now,” she laughed, running into the bathroom and shutting the door.

  “You can run, Peaches, but you can’t hide,” I whispered, peeling for the door.

  * * *

  “This is sooooo good, Spencer,” she moaned as her tongue came out to lick the coffee ice cream.

  Her licking sent shivers rushing through my body as I remembered the way she licked me like that once I pounced on her in the shower. Her tongue held more magic than David Blaine’s entire body, and I found myself jealous of her ice cream treat.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Peaches,” my voice cracking with lust.

  “You’re not?”

  “Oh I am, but I would be more if I was that ice cream,” I winked.

  “You’re such a perv,” she laughed.

  “Yep. And that’s why you love me.”

  I had our day planned out to the letter, and our impromptu bedroom festivities had already put us behind a little bit, but I had called the restaurant for dinner and moved our reservations. They were quite accommodating.

  “Walk or cab, Peaches?” I asked.

  “Cab. These shoes won’t get me too far,” she laughed.

  I could have told her to wear something more comfortable, but I knew my wife. She didn’t have many vices, but shoes were her addiction.

  I flagged down the cab and opened the door for her as she finished off her Leopold’s Coffee Ice Cream and we rode the few short city blocks to our first destination.

  “Oh my God, Spencer, I love the SCAD Museum,” she squealed, clutching onto my arm.

  “I know, Peaches,” I laughed.