Page 81 of Father of the Bride
“I’m just saying. If you’re going on the lam, I got you. Other than that, I can’t help you. But I’m here.”
“That helps,” he said. “More than you know.”
Chapter 27
“Shouldn’tyoube…mmmmmm…Kez,youhave to focus.”
Mark popped his head up, his lips glistening when he said, “I am. I’m focused on making you cum.”
He had her back against the wall on the side of the pool house, her leg over his shoulder, hands spread, her palms grabbing at the brick and getting no relief.
“I have…to go—ooh. Kez…”
He went harder. Tongue on her flesh, two fingers deep in her pussy, one in her ass. The intensity of the pleasure made her knees buckle, but Mark held her up with his free hand, not letting her fall. He would never let her fall.
She climaxed with a long, desperate moan she tried her best to contain. Satisfied, Mark stood to his feet, grabbing her, pulling her close.
“Come here, baby. Taste it.”
His lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth, exchanging her essence, communicating solely in sighs and moans. Sunny was down tremendously bad at this point, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Alright, I gotta go,” he said as he pulled away. “Have fun.”
“You, too. But not too much,” Sunny added playfully.
The rehearsal dinner stopped more than it ended, with guests trickling out awkwardly as everyone tried, for Brooklyn’s sake, to pretend Mark wasn’t royally fucked.
Now, they were taking Davion to a strip club for his bachelor party. A silly, outdated past time in Sunny’s opinion, but boys will be boys.
Still shaky, she rushed to the dock on the other side of the house, where the women would board a yacht for Brooklyn’s party.
As soon as she was in view of the yacht, she heard it.
“You nasty.”
Sunny rolled her eyes at Tigra. “Says the woman flirting with a twenty year old.”
“He’s twenty-two, bitch, and how do you even know about that?”
“Through the magical wonder of sight!” Sunny teased. “Everybody and their mama saw you acting like a shameless hussy at dinner.”
Tigra snickered. “Why should I be shamed? I’m taking men’s lead on this since they swear they’re leaders. They done led me exactly where they’ve been for years—to the young meat.”
“Hey, if you like it, I love it.”
They boarded the yacht just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. It was a sleek, shiny vessel, sitting three decks high, humming with bass from the private DJ booth set up by the bow. A neon pink sign readBrooklyn’s Last Fling Before the Ring, glittering above a balloon arch of cream and rose gold.
A bedazzled and tiara’d Brooklyn stood near the bar in a sequined white romper, her smile brighter than Sunny had seen it since she’d been here. The two hugged, then Brooklyn handed Sunny a champagne flute.
“There’s a lot going on, but we’re gonna turn up. Right?”
Sunny clinked her glass against Brooklyn’s, downed the entire glass of frosé, then held it out toward a waiter for another.
“I’ll take that as a yes!” she cheered.
Tigra and Sunny laughed at the copious number of penises everywhere—penis shaped drink stirrers, penises on colorful toothpicks stuffed into hors d'oeuvres, penis shaped strobe lights, penis lollipops, and, of course, a penis cake.
“Dicks are so cliche,” Tigra remarked.
