Licked (Getting Dirty #3) - Tory Baker Page 0,27

down to working four days a week, and alternate at that. I’m tired of coming home and you’re already asleep, not being able to eat dinner with you.” It’s definitely getting to be that time. I already popped the cork for the champagne in the house. I pour the bubbly liquid into the flutes while I grab the ring that’s been burning a hole in my pocket for over a month now.

When we were in Virginia, I talked to her parents, showed them the ring, and received their blessing. There hasn’t been the one perfect opportunity, until tonight.

“You know what we’re going to do tonight?” Berkley asks.

“What’s that?”

“Drunken-naked sex.” She’s already sipping on champagne.

“What about drunken-naked, we’re-getting-married sex instead?” I say by way of proposing. She stops from taking another sip of her champagne. Her hand is visibly shaking. I take her glass and place both of them down. I probably should have gotten down on one knee to propose, but I’m not the traditional type of guy, and I’m damn sure not asking. There’s no way I’ll take no for an answer.

“Yes!” Her arms go up and around my neck, not giving two shits about the ring I just put on her finger as her lips find mine. I take her mouth. Nothing about this is slow and sweet. My need for her is too overwhelming right now. When I slip my tongue inside of her mouth, that’s when she climbs onto my lap, causing the swing to jostle enough to almost knock us off it.

“God, I love you.” I pull back.

“I love you too, Ryder.” Our foreheads meet, and her hands land on my shoulders when she notices the ring.

“Jesus Christ, Ryder. It’s beautiful.” Berkley’s voice and face carry a look of shock.

“It was my grandmother’s. It’s not perfect, but it means something to me.”

“It’s perfect to me. But what about Melody? Wouldn’t she want it?” My girl, always thinking about someone else besides herself.

“She has the band. It’s a show-stopper too.” Berkley has a single marquis diamond sitting on a gold band.

“I can’t believe we’re getting married. And we are so having drunken-naked, we’re-getting-married sex too!” She stands up, starts stripping, and walks towards the door.

“Bring the champagne. We definitely have something to celebrate.” Berkley is down to her panties and nothing else. Had I known she wasn’t wearing much underneath her borrowed clothes, they would have been long gone.

“Fuck yes, we are.” I strip my own clothes off, grab the bottle, and follow my future wife. Tonight, neither of us will be getting any sleep. My only thought will be seeing her wear nothing but my ring on her finger until we’re forced to get out of bed for food, and even that’s questionable.

Epilogue

Berkley

Six and a Half Years Later

“Oh my god, you have demon sperm. Literally the spawn of Satan. How am I supposed to go six more weeks like this? If that’s even the case. I’ve heard people have morning, noon, and night sickness all throughout their pregnancy.” I’m bitching, mainly because we’re pulled over the side of the road for what seems like the eighth time, and it’s barely two o’clock in the afternoon.

“Sugar, I’m pretty sure your mom said she had the same trouble when she was pregnant with you. It’s part of the reason you’re an only child, remember?” Ryder jokes. Go figure. We finally started trying, which by the way took little effort after I didn’t take my last depo shot, and BAM! There I was, pregnant. He’s not wrong though. Mom told me plenty of times that the pain and the aggravation all go away once your baby is in your arms, but before that, she was miserable, through her whole pregnancy. The only reason they didn’t have more children after me wasn’t because of the morning sickness issue. Mom was put on bedrest with me at thirty weeks. They couldn’t control her blood pressure even though she didn’t have any issues before, then that nice little thing called preeclampsia settled in. The doctor advised it could happen again after I was born. Dad said enough was enough, went and got the snip-snip. I don’t blame either of them. If I hear a hint of bedrest being tossed around, Ryder and I will do the exact same thing.

“We must be having a boy, then, because even Mom said this is worse than hers. She just had it in the morning. This shit goes on all day.” It’s the dead of