pretending they weren’t surrounded by a hundred riveted spectators. He blushed and lowered her hands, peeking up at her sheepishly.
“That was beautiful,” she said. “Perfect.”
The priest raised a hand and eventually their guests quieted.
“Not sure how I’m supposed to follow that,” Aggie said. “I knew I should have gone first.”
Jace bit his lip, his eyes trained on her cleavage. She tucked a finger under his chin and forced his gaze up. She could only imagine how hard it had been for him to pour his heart out to her like that, but he was going to have to fight off his inherent shyness for a few more minutes, because she had things to say that he needed to hear.
“We make an interesting pair,” she said. “A cold-hearted bitch and a selfless, misunderstood man.”
Jace opened his mouth to protest, but she covered his lips with her finger.
“My turn to talk.”
He inclined his head ever so slightly in agreement.
“I eat men like you for breakfast and pick my teeth with their bones,” Aggie said.
A few people chuckled.
“At least, I did. Until I discovered who you really are. You weren’t what I expected. You brought out something in me I thought I’d lost.” She closed a fist over her chest and pressed it against her breastbone, crushing her father’s heart-shaped pendant into her skin. “My heart. I didn’t think I needed it. It only ever caused me pain. Got in the way of my ambitions. I did a really good job of pretending it didn’t exist anymore. That I didn’t need a heart. Or love. And then you happened. I still don’t know how you managed to not only remind me how to love, but how to need love. To want it. How to need you and want you. I should be pissed off that you took my life by storm and made yourself the center of my universe. I had plans, aspirations, goals, and none of them involved a man.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and then he grinned. “Actually, I’m not.”
“You shouldn’t be sorry,” she said, her voice softening. “I’ve never been happier to have been so wrong about what is most important to me. It’s you and the love we share. It can get me through anything.” She stroked the stubble on his jaw, delighting in its rough texture against her fingertips. “You only made one vow to me today, but I have dozens to make to you.”
His eyebrows drew together.
“I promise never to make you buy me tampons.”
He laughed.
“I promise I will not choke you in your sleep for leaving the toilet seat up. I promise to hug you hard when you need it and even harder when you think you don’t. I promise to tell you exactly what’s on my mind and wait patiently for you to tell me what’s exactly on yours. I promise to support you in your career and allow you to support me in mine. I will be your partner and your wife for the rest of my life, but I promise to love you forever.”
She glanced at the priest expectantly. He twitched, as if she’d cracked her whip at him, and then he cleared his throat.
“Do you Jason Michael Seymour take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, with God as your witness?”
“I do,” he said without hesitation.
“Do you Agatha Christine Martin take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, with God as your witness?”
“Hell yeah, I do,” she said, wanting to make Jace smile. It worked.
The priest again cleared his throat. “The rings.”
Eric produced the rings from inside his pocket and handed them to the priest. He said some words that Aggie didn’t pay much attention to. She was too lost in Jace’s brown eyes to be fully cognizant of anything but him.
Jace took the smaller of the gold wedding bands and slipped it onto Aggie’s left ring finger. “With this ring I thee wed,” he said.
Aggie reached for Jace’s ring with trembling fingers and slipped it over the knuckle on his left ring finger. She stroked the band, rubbing it into his flesh to solidify the physical evidence of their lifelong bond. She was surprised by how emotional the simple gesture of putting a ring on his finger made her.
“With this ring I know Jace Seymour belongs to me, and I thee wed.”
Jace’s grin of happiness made Aggie’s heart soar.
“By the power vested in me,” the priest said. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Eyes a bit watery with tears, Jace drew her against him and kissed her as if he never planned to stop. Passion and emotion warred within Aggie until her senses were so overwhelmed by Jace—her husband—she could do nothing but cling to him and let him have his way.
“You may kiss your bride,” the priest said unnecessarily and slammed his Bible shut.
The guests and bridal party clapped and cheered as the kiss deepened and their passion intensified. Tears of happiness leaked from beneath Aggie’s eyelids, and she didn’t bother trying to stem their flow. She and Jace were now one. In her heart, they’d always been one, but now she understood the importance of weddings. It allowed a couple and those they cared about to celebrate the rare and wondrous love that two people found in each other. What could possibly be more glorious than that?
A brilliant glow lit Aggie’s face from the enormous stained-glass window behind the altar. The sun had found a break in the clouds.
The cheers and applause died at once, replaced with gasps of astonishment and whispers. Aggie tugged her lips from Jace’s and turned her face toward the window. A pair of human-shaped, misty apparitions embraced before the glass. Aggie smiled. Thomas and Katherine had found their way back to each other. It was about damned time.
“I think they’re kissing,” she said to Jace.
“I guess they finally sorted things out.”
“Thanks for coming to our wedding,” Aggie called to Katherine and Thomas.
The fading figure of Thomas lifted a hand in farewell, wrapped an arm around his wife, and then they vanished together.
“Maybe love really is forever,” Aggie said, turning back to Jace, “and we really can spend eternity together.”
“I hope so, baby,” he said, squeezing her hand and staring deeply into her eyes. “But we’ve still got a lot of living to do first.”
“And loving,” she said, crushing his handsome face between her palms and grinning until she was sure her cheeks would explode. “That’s the best part.”
Sneak Peek of Sinners in Paradise
Coming soon!
Need even more Sinners? The weddings are over, but the honeymoons are just beginning…
from Take Me to Paradise
For Brian, there was only one thing in the world more wonderful than waking up with his cock in the mouth of a skilled lover and that was knowing this amazing morning wakeup-call was being delivered by his spectacular wife, Myrna.
“Well good morning to you too,” he said, lifting his head from the pillow to watch her work her magic.
Since her mouth was otherwise occupied, she smiled a greeting with her pretty hazel eyes. She took him deep into the back of her throat and increased her suction as she pulled back.
His belly tightened in an involuntary spasm of delight and he dropped his head back on the pillow wondering what he’d done to deserve this fantastic alarm clock.
Myrna bobbed her head until he was so hard he could have used his dick as jack-hammer and then she pulled back until his cock popped out of her mouth. He watched her in silent awe as she crawled up his body to straddle his hips.
“I just took my temperature. It’s optimal,” she explained and reached between her legs to press his cockhead into her slick opening. His flesh rippled with pleasure as her tight pussy swallowed him inch by glorious inch.
Myrna wanted a baby almost as much as he did, and though they’d been trying for months, so far they hadn’t found success. She had recently resorted to taking her temperature near the middle of her cycle hoping to find her fertile time. She’d switched from a romantic approach to a more scientific one when fucking like rabbits anytime they were in the same r
oom together hadn’t produced the desired results.
“I should be on top,” he said, “so gravity isn’t working against us.”
She pursed her lips together and nodded, blinking against the sudden flood of tears in her eyes. He understood her upset. It did seem like more than gravity was working against them.
Brian sat up and wrapped both arms around her. “Don’t cry, baby. It will happen.”
“How can it happen when you’re always on the road?” she said and snuggled her face into his neck.
She clung to him as if afraid he was about to desert her. Again. He knew most of their problem was that the current tour with his band kept them apart so frequently.
“I’m not on the road now,” he said.
“Only because the tour bus was ripped in half.”
“Maybe your ovaries planned it that way,” he said and rolled her onto her back. He was hoping to bring a smile to her face, but she just scowled at him.
“Don’t joke about the crash. I thought we were all going to die.”
He kissed her deeply and began to rock his hips, willing memories of that horrible experience to leave her mind and his. When she relaxed beneath him and began to explore his back with gentle fingertips, he churned his hips to give her more pleasure. He knew he could give her pleasure. He just wasn’t sure if he’d ever give her the baby she wanted so badly.
Myrna moaned softly, grinding against him as her pleasure built. He lifted onto his elbows, so he could watch her as he plunged into her, receded, plunged into her again. He would never tire of looking at her face or its countless expressions—her joy, her anxiety, her passion, her fear, her sorrow, her anger and tenderness and wonder and love. He cherished every nuance of her beautiful face and doubted he’d ever grow tired of watching her—not even when they were both old and wrinkled like a couple of enamored raisins.
“I love you,” he whispered when the emotion became too raw to hold inside any longer.
She smiled up at him and lifted a hand to touch his beard-stubbled jaw. “I love you too, Brian.”
They deserved to have the ultimate expression of their love. They deserved to have a baby. So why was making one so fucking difficult for them?
He made love to her slowly, filling her deeply, waiting for her to find her peak. He followed her in orgasm, making sure he was planted firmly against the entrance of her womb as he found release inside her. He withdrew slowly, trying not to disrupt what he’d left behind and then rested his head on her chest as he slowly regained his breath. She ran her fingers through his hair while he prayed that they’d made it happen this time. Please God, let her be happy. Let her have a baby. My baby. Please.
“Let’s go away somewhere,” she said after a moment. “Just the two of us. We never got to have a real honeymoon after our wedding and Jerry said it will be weeks before you’re able to get back on tour.”
That sounded like a great idea to him. “Where would you like to go?”
“I’ll go anywhere as long as I’m with you,” she said. “Except Canada. Canada doesn’t seem to like me much.”
The bus accident had occurred in Canada, and they both knew it had nothing to do with a place liking anyone, but he understood her hesitation in wanting to return there so soon after tragedy had struck the family of their little metal band.
“I’ll call a travel agent,” he said. “Are you hungry?” He bent his head and kissed her flat belly. He wondered what she’d look like with his baby growing inside her.
“A little. Are you?”
“Starving,” he said.
“I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”
He pressed her firmly into the mattress. “You stay here and incubate,” he said. “I’ll bring you something.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, her eyes growing moist again. Damn she was emotional while trying. He couldn’t even imagine how emotional she’d be once she actually got pregnant. He wouldn’t mind being there for her though. He was more than happy to make midnight runs for pickles and ice cream to keep a smile on her face.
“No problem,” he said and kissed her pouty pink lips. “It’s the least I can do after that wonderful wake-up you gifted me with this morning.”
“When my ovaries say it’s time, it’s fucking time,” she said with a laugh.
“We have at least twelve more hours to take advantage of their cooperation,” he said.
“Better make that breakfast a large one,” she said and patted his ass. “I think we’re going to need our stamina.”
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to my beta readers Cyndi McGowen, Wendy Christy and Jill Anderson for helping me make this the best book possible. And to my patient and talented editor, Beth Hill. One day I will learn how to use a comma properly. Or should that be: One day, I will learn how to use a comma properly. Consider my punctuation weaknesses, your job security.
Much love to my fans and readers, who bring a smile to my face every day with their love and enthusiasm for a fake rock band. If Sinners were real, I believe they’d need more condoms and tighter security.
And extra thanks to my family and friends, because they’re the ones who have to listen to me bitch when the muse isn’t cooperating or when I’m on my fifth edit and I’m convinced that every word I’ve ever written sucks. I appreciate you all.
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