18. Aubrey

18

Aubrey

As the party starts to putter out, signaling the end of our epic wedding bash, Luke is fighting the Sandman like a champ in the final round—but it's clear he's about to get knocked out by sleep. Emma, sensing an opportunity to play fairy godmother, swoops in with a game plan.

"I'll tuck the little knight in tonight. The main house is back in action, and Violet's already babbling for a sleepover."

Luke's eyes light up like he's just been offered a lifetime supply of ice cream. "Sleep near Violet? Yes, please!" he cheers, proving once again that the promise of playtime with his new cousin trumps sleep.

So, with Luke happily handed off to Emma's capable hands, Sean and I make our retreat to our Airbnb castle in the sky—the third-floor haven that's more luxury apartment than simple room, boasting its very own kitchen and bath.

Here we are, on the threshold of our first night as a bona fide married couple, and my stomach's doing somersaults. Who knew "I do" could feel like the world's most exhilarating roller coaster?

"Can you believe we're actually hitched?" I blurt out, stepping into our new digs. The gravity of the day, of everything, suddenly feels as tangible as the ring on my finger, its weight both foreign and thrilling against my skin.

Sean, my newly minted husband and personal chill pill, draws me in close with a grin that should be patented for its ability to calm my every nerve. His warm hands settle on my hips, anchoring me to this moment, his thumbs making small, soothing circles against the fabric of my dress. "Mrs. Ice, welcome to the adventure of a lifetime. Think of us as the dynamic duo, the dream team, the... peanut butter and jelly of love stories." His voice carries that playful tone that never fails to make my heart skip, mixed with a hint of something deeper, more intense.

"Peanut butter and jelly?" I quirk an eyebrow, fighting back a giggle. "That's your big romantic metaphor for our epic love story? Not, I don't know, Romeo and Juliet?"

"Hey now," he protests, pulling me closer. "Romeo and Juliet both died. I'm thinking more long-term here. Besides, have you ever tried to separate peanut butter from jelly once they're together? Impossible. Just like us."

His comparison sends a laugh bubbling up from my chest, lightening the mood instantly. I lean into his embrace, savoring the solid warmth of him, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my palm. "Just for the record, I'm definitely the peanut butter—the undeniable foundation of this pairing." My fingers trace idle patterns on his chest as I speak, following the subtle lines of muscle beneath his dress shirt.

"Without question," he agrees with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling in the soft light of our Airbnb. One hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin in that tender way that makes my breath catch. "You're the perfect mix of sweet and strong." The tenderness in his voice makes my knees weak, and the intensity in his gaze sends a shiver down my spine.

"Smooth talker," I whisper against his lips. "Is that what sealed the deal? Your way with sandwich metaphors?"

"That, and my irresistible charm," he murmurs back, nipping playfully at my bottom lip. "Don't pretend you didn't fall for it."

"You're right about everything falling into place." I press closer, savoring the warmth of his kiss, the slight scratch of his evening stubble against my skin. "And I mean everything."

"Mmm. Come here, Mrs. Ice." Sean tugs me toward the bedroom, his fingers threading through mine, squeezing gently. The way he says my new name sends sparks of electricity through my whole body. "I believe we have some celebrating to do."

"Is that what we're calling it?" My breath catches as he pulls me against him, the solid wall of his chest pressing against me.

"First night as husband and wife? Definitely calls for celebration." His lips brush my ear, his warm breath making me shiver. "And I plan to take my time showing you exactly how much." His free hand trails down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Promise?" I tease, running my fingers along the collar of his shirt.

"Oh, sweetheart," he growls softly, backing me toward the bedroom. "That's one wedding vow I intend to keep very, very thoroughly."

Our laughter echoes around us, a sound as comforting as it is hopeful, filling this space we're beginning to call ours. And as Sean's lips find mine in a kiss that's as tender as it is full of promise, I can't help but feel like everything's falling into place.

The journey from our living room to the bedroom is a dance of sorts, a slow burn of anticipation that speaks volumes without a word. It's a conversation of kisses and closeness, a dialogue about the future and the challenges we'll face, all wrapped up in the certainty of us.

As we cross into the sanctuary of our bedroom, leaving the world and its questions at the door, I'm struck by the realization that this is it—life with Sean, unpredictable, exhilarating, and mine.

I take a moment to admire his gorgeous body, my eyes lingering on his perfectly sculpted butt. He catches me staring and grins, that cocky charm of his shining through, lighting up his blue eyes.

“Like what you see?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

I laugh, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “You know I do. Now get over here.”

He steps closer, his hands roaming over my body until one settles between my thighs. The touch sends a shiver through me, and I can’t help but gasp. “Damn, Sean, you’re good at this.”

He chuckles, his breath hot against my ear. “I aim to please,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate.

His hand works its magic, his fingers spreading my lips, and I feel a rush of pleasure that’s almost overwhelming. I arch against him, losing myself in the sensations. The anticipation builds, every touch, every kiss driving me wild.

He keeps going, his hand on my breast, his fingertip teasing my clit in just the way I need. Each movement is deliberate, each touch designed to stoke the fire within me. I can feel the heat rising, my body responding to his expert touch.

Sean knows exactly how to touch me, hitting all the right spots as his lips travel over my skin. He kisses my neck, my collarbone, my nipples, and down to my stomach, each kiss leaving a trail of fire. His hands continue their expert work.

“Oh, Sean,” I gasp, my voice trembling with desire. “That’s perfect.”

His touch grows more intense, more focused, his fingers moving in and out of me. I can feel myself teetering on the edge. His mouth finds its way back to mine, and he kisses me deeply, passionately, as his fingers bring me closer and closer to the brink.

Every nerve in my body is electrified, and I can feel the tension building to an almost unbearable peak. Sean’s touch is relentless, perfectly in tune with my body, driving me to heights I never imagined.

Then, with one final, perfect motion, his fingers inside and his thumb on my clit, he sends me over the edge. The release is explosive, a thundering wave of pleasure that crashes over me, leaving me breathless and trembling. I cling to him, my body shuddering with the intensity of it all.

As the waves of delight subside, I look up at him, my breath coming in ragged gasps. “Wow,” I whisper, a satisfied smile spreading across my face. “You’re amazing.”

Sean grins, his eyes twinkling with pride and affection. “Glad you think so, because I’m just getting started.”

He climbs over top of me, positioning himself perfectly. His eyes lock onto mine, a gaze of pure desire that sends a shiver up my spine. He enters me slowly, making me gasp with the intensity of the sensation. His cock splits me in two, filling me in just the way I need.

Our bodies move together in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and connection. Every touch, every kiss, every movement is electric. Sean’s gaze never leaves mine, and the intensity of his focus makes me feel like the only woman in the world.

He flirts and teases, his words a blend of cocky charm and heartfelt affection. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “I could stay like this forever.”

I smile up at him, my hands gripping his shoulders as we move together.

He pushes deeper and deeper, bottoming me out with full, slow strokes. His body is beautiful to behold, that athletic physique working hard, his muscles flexing and tensing. I reach down, placing my hands on his sculpted, firm ass, pushing him down, urging him on.

The rhythm of our lovemaking builds, each movement bringing us closer to that sweet release. I can feel the tension coiling within me, tighter and tighter, until it finally snaps. I cry out, the pleasure washing over me in powerful waves, pulling me under. He drives into me through the orgasm, and I wince my eyes shut, focusing on the sensation of his cock buried so fucking deep.

Then, with a flash of sexy, masculine aggression, Sean grips my hips and flips me onto all fours. My heart races with anticipation, my body responding eagerly to his commanding touch. He positions himself behind me, his hands firm and possessive on my hips.

The first thrust is powerful, sending a jolt of pleasure through my entire body. His movements are controlled yet intense, each stroke filling me completely. The new angle heightens every sensation, and I can’t help but moan loudly, the sound echoing off the walls of our private haven.

Sean leans over, his chest pressing against my back as he whispers in my ear, “You feel so good, Aubrey. So perfect.” His breath is hot and ragged, matching the intensity of our connection.

His pace quickens, each thrust deeper and more deliberate, pushing me closer to the edge once again. The feel of his body against mine, the primal sound of our coupling, it all drives me wild with desire. My fingers grip the sheets as the tension builds within me, tighter and more urgent than before.

Sean’s hands slide up my body, one tangling in my hair, the other wrapping around to caress my breasts. The dual sensations push me over the brink, and I shudder with a second, even more intense climax. My cries of pleasure fill the room, and I feel him responding to me, his own release imminent.

With a final, powerful thrust, Sean joins me in ecstasy. His groan is deep and primal, the sound of a man completely lost in the moment. I feel his cock pulse as he drains inside, his warmth filling me. We collapse together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breathing heavy and synchronized.

As the last waves of pleasure ebb away, Sean pulls me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. He kisses the top of my head, his fingers gently stroking my hair. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his voice filled with love and satisfaction.

I smile, feeling a deep sense of contentment and connection. “So are you, Sean. So are you.”

In the afterglow of our not-so-typical wedding night, curled up next to Sean, the world outside our little love nest might as well be on another planet. But leave it to my brain to throw a parade of worries and doubts, raining on our newlywed parade.

Sean, picking up on my shift from blissed-out to stressed-out, turns to me with those eyes that have a direct hotline to my swoon center. "Alright, spill. What's brewing in that gorgeous head of yours?" he probes, half teasing, half genuinely concerned.

Exhaling a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I let it all tumble out. "It's just... your track record, Sean. The party scene, the endless lineup of women. It's like trying to build a future with a guy who's been voted 'Most Likely to Start a Conga Line at a Funeral.'"

But Sean, bless his heart, doesn't miss a beat. "I promise, that guy? He's history. You and Luke are my present and future. Hell, I'd trade all the conga lines in the world for movie nights with you two."

It's hard not to melt a little at that, even if a tiny, cynical part of me is holding onto its bingo card of doubts.

Then, like he's trying to change the channel from "Worry Central" to "Adventure Time," he throws in, "Oh, and speaking of future stuff, I've got this away game in Kansas City. Thought it might be fun for you and Luke to come along."

The idea does a little dance in my head before crashing into the wall of reality known as my to-do list. "Tempting, but I'm chained to the desk next week. Savannah's got me juggling clients like I'm auditioning for the circus. Rain check?"

The disappointment on his face is as clear as a missed goal on an open net, but he rebounds quickly. "No worries. Duty calls. But hey, there's always next time."

And then, as if we needed another topic on our post-marriage discussion bingo, I lob the big one into the mix. "So, this might be a champagne talking, but where are we thinking of setting up our love shack?"

Sean's grin falters as he contemplates the question, the reality of our situation settling in. "Yeah, about that. We've got some decisions to make, don't we? But whatever we decide, we'll do it together. Team Ice, remember?"

His optimism is infectious, and despite the swirling vortex of questions about our future, I feel a renewed sense of confidence. With Sean, it feels like we could tackle a hurricane and come out with just a few bad hair days.

***

Back in the Windy City with Sean on the road, it's just me, Luke, and the endless possibilities of urban adventures. Today's quest? A strategy meeting at Savannah's chic apartment, which is as much a hub of gossip and caffeine as it is our makeshift office. Luke, in his infinite toddler wisdom, has decided that Savannah's cat, Mabel, is the day's main attraction, their game of chase providing a lively backdrop to our business chatter.

"So, the Ashford campaign?" I start, flipping open my laptop to a success story in the making. "Turns out, 'Luxury Living for the Modern Minimalist' was the tagline jackpot. Their social media engagement is through the roof!"

Savannah, ever the picture of casual elegance with her coffee cup in hand, beams with pride. "And let's not forget the Miller rebrand. 'Sustainable Sophistication' is resonating like crazy. Their eco-friendly line's pre-sales have doubled."

High fives all around, our little two-person firm feeling more like a powerhouse with every win. But as the conversation drifts, as it inevitably does, from professional prowess to personal ponderings, I find myself steering us towards uncharted waters.

"So, about Sean," I venture, a little hesitantly, aware that I'm about to blend our cocktail of business and personal like a rookie bartender.

Savannah, sensing my shift in gears, sets her coffee down with a thoughtful look. "Honestly, Aube, marrying you is probably the best PR move he could've made. It's like, with one 'I do,' the tabloids have amnesia. The party boy image? Fading faster than last season's fashion trends."

Her words, meant to reassure, spark a mix of emotions. Relief, certainly, but also a dawning realization of the role I've stepped into—Mrs. Ice, the narrative shift in Sean's public saga.

"As long as he keeps his nose clean, he's on track to reclaim the golden boy status. No pressure, right?" Savannah adds with a wink, her humor a welcome buffer against the weight of her observation.

I can't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation not lost on me. "No pressure at all," I agree, rolling my eyes. "Just gotta keep my husband out of the tabloids. How hard can it be?"

Our laughter fills the apartment, a moment of levity in the midst of life's whirlwind. And as I watch Luke, still utterly enchanted by Mabel's elusive tail, I'm reminded of the simple joys amidst the chaos.

Savannah, ever the inquisitor, steers us into the territory of futures and foundations.

"So, where's the new Ice household gonna be? You sticking to Chicago, or are you going full country chic at the ranch?" Savannah asks, her curiosity piqued as she sips her artisanal coffee.

I let out a sigh that feels like it's carrying half my worries with it. "It's... a lot. Sean and I, we haven't exactly nailed down the logistics yet," I admit, the reality of merging lives with Mr. Ice still a concept I'm wrapping my head around.

Savannah nods, understandingly. "Hey, you know you've got flexibility with us, right? Most of our work's digital anyway. As long as we sync up now and then, you could technically be anywhere—even embracing your inner cowgirl on the ranch."

The thought of trading my city skyline for open fields and starry nights is both daunting and slightly thrilling. "I guess it does make sense for Sean and me to actually live together, considering we're, you know, married and all," I muse, the idea of cohabitation suddenly feeling more real spoken out loud.

"But I don't want to feel like I'm just abandoning my life here. My work, my independence," I confess, the words tasting bittersweet. It's a tightrope walk between forging a new path with Sean and holding onto the essence of who I am.

Savannah reaches across, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Totally understandable. Balancing act 101. But hey, love's about finding that middle ground, right? Plus, with how connected we are, Chicago's just a FaceTime away."

Her words are a comfort, a reminder that no decision has to be absolute, that the life Sean and I are building together can be as multifaceted as we want it to be.

Our heart-to-heart is cut short as Savannah's phone erupts with the ringtone she's reserved for "Client Calls Only." She glances at the screen, a mix of professionalism and reluctance crossing her features. "Gotta take this. Duty calls," she says, excusing herself to the balcony with a smile that says 'to be continued.'

Left alone, I watch Luke, who's found a new game tormenting poor Mabel with a feather duster, giggling with the kind of pure joy only toddlers and victorious cats understand.

While Savannah's out on the balcony doing her superhero PR rep thing, and Luke's engaged in a high-stakes game of cat vs. toddler with Mabel, my phone decides to throw a party in my purse. It's Sean, and just seeing his name pop up sends my heart into a happy dance worthy of a viral TikTok challenge.

He kicks off our digital rendezvous with a selfie that's all charm and devilish grins. It's like he's mastered the art of making me swoon through pixels alone. Challenge accepted, I think, snapping a selfie with the urban jungle of Chicago as my backdrop and sending it flying back to him.

What unfolds is the kind of text exchange that rom-com dreams are made of—playful, flirty, and charged with an undercurrent of "Miss you like crazy." Sean's pouty face emoji battle is Oscar-worthy, but I hold my own with a well-timed heart-eyed cat.

"Just so you know, I'm winning this miss-you-more contest," I type, my thumbs flying across the screen with the confidence of a texting champion.

"Miss you, miss Luke. When's the big reveal, you think? When do we tell him I'm the dad with the dad jokes?" Sean's text floats in, a mix of humor and heartfelt wrapped up in a digital bow.

I pause, the screen blurring a bit as I consider his question. It's the million-dollar one, isn't it? "Still on the fence," I admit. "Feels like we're juggling flaming torches while blindfolded, doesn't it?"

Falling for Sean has been like stepping onto the world's most exhilarating roller coaster—hands in the air, screaming with delight, and slightly terrified all at once. The thought of us as a real, live family both sets my heart aflutter and sends my brain into a tailspin.

His next message is a virtual hug, full of understanding and patience. "We've got this. No rush. We're in it together, remember?"

And just like that, the world seems a little less daunting. As I watch Luke, now attempting to knight Mabel with a plastic spoon, I can't help but smile. This crazy, beautiful, patchwork life we're stitching together might be a whirlwind, but it's ours.