Always Wrong - Xyla Turner Page 0,52
I forgot. When did you say yes?”
Oh.
Okay.
Sitting up, I chuckled a bit and reminded him, “In the very beginning, we went through several bouts of verbal contracts. Baby, houses, citizenship, mating, and more. I agreed to each of them. Yet, when you got on one knee to ask me for my hand in marriage, I realized that you didn’t understand my original agreement. Everything you proposed then, I agreed to. I could have a baby with anyone, Jacquez. I don’t have to live in the same house with the father. Get dual citizenship with the father. Nor do I have to cohabitate with him in anyway. However, we decided to live our lives is what I agreed to.”
“Sheryl, I asked you to marry me, and you said we get it always wrong. You turned me down,” he clarified.
“No, Jacquez, we do get it always wrong. It shouldn’t have been let’s have a baby and do everything a married couple does except make it official. It should not be a marriage proposal after that plan fizzles out. It should have always been us falling in love first. We were out of order, and you know it.”
He sat up and looked at me as if he wanted to argue, but there wasn’t a leg to stand on when it came to that point. We were wrong.
“We’re not wrong for each other,” he pointed out. “We were just wrong with how we started.”
I nodded, since that was something I could agree with. Seemingly looking for something to say, Jacquez finally spoke and said, “Marry me, Sheryl.”
“Was that a question?” I asked.
“No, it’s not a bloody question. I’m telling you to marry me. I’ve been trying not to be a pushy bloke, but crikey, woman. Fucking marry me. You see I’m all for you. Trying to do it right, we are right. Not bloody wrong.”
Getting on all fours, I crawled to him and wrapped my legs around his waist. Then I leaned in and said, “I like that we were wrong. I don’t think we would have ever made it to right.”
“Is that a yes?” he asked while searching my face as his eyes darted back and forth.
“Yes, that’s a yes.” I kissed him chastely on the lips. “I will marry you.”
“Bloody hell,” he exhaled. “Thank Christ.”
That was when he turned me over on my back and began to pull the clothes off of me and then him with lightning speed. With no warning or even a check, Jacquez entered me, and I was ready. He pushed in, and we began to rock like an ocean cradling a boat that was set to coast. The timing and meeting of our hips created such friction that I came almost immediately. I held on to Jacquez as he took me under and began to hammer into me, causing me to cum again and again. With my nails digging into him and teeth causing indents in his tanned skin, I began to feel him stiffen inside me.
“Cum, baby,” I coaxed. “Cum inside of me and fill me up.”
And oh, did he. No contracts, no barriers or rules. If we didn’t get it wrong, we would have never gotten it right.
When we finally woke up, Jacquez disappeared to his beach house and then came back twenty minutes later with a suitcase. Yup, no questions or any asking, just plain olé’ alpha man.
“I guess you’re moving in,” I commented.
Instead of answering me, he dropped on one knee and told me to come there.
With a smile on my face, I sashayed over to him and sang, “Yes.”
That was when he pulled out a black velvet jewelry box and opened it up to show the biggest, most beautiful ring I had ever seen. I mean, it was big and completely over the top, which I would not complain about.
“Yes,” I answered before he could ask again. “I will marry you.”
Always wrong.
He pulled out the ring and slid it on my ringer. And then he stood up and kissed me hard. That led to him taking me right over the couch. It was rough but sweet and excruciating, as he kept building up the ache, and then when he finally let me release, it was us releasing together.
That felt so right.
Epilogue
Jacquez
Finally.
Bloody finally. My mother was the first person that I told, and she said the same thing.
Finally.
Then she wanted to FaceTime so she could see Sheryl. Somehow, my phone was in her hands and she was walking away to talk with my