Jessie gasped, her body stiffening. Her legs shaking as she came hard. She sobbed into his mouth, dragging him with her when her spasming muscles locked around his cock like a vise.
He shot hard into her, everything draining from his body into hers. Then, weak and sated, they held on to each other for long, long minutes until they heard Shit-starter bark, followed by the words, “I knew you two were up to this.”
Smitty dropped Jessie’s dress to cover her ass, but he loved the fact she didn’t jump anymore when his mother came out of nowhere.
Panting, they looked at her and she smiled.
“Everybody’s looking for you. You’re already ten minutes late.”
“We are?” Jessie asked, shocked. She looked at her wrist and saw only the bracelet Smitty had given her on her birthday. “Shit. I forgot my watch again.” She frowned in thought. “I think I threw it at somebody’s head.”
“Well,” his momma cut in, “we don’t have time to look for it now. That preacher looks fit to be tied.”
“We’ll be along in a minute, Momma.”
“All right. I’ll try and stall. Shouldn’t be too hard. That preacher’s been checking my ass out for the past two hours.”
Jessie buried her face in his neck and giggled quietly out of respect for—and most likely some fear of—his mother.
When he knew they were alone again, he lifted her chin and smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“Come on, woman. Let’s legally make you a Smith.”
Smiling, Jessie said, “You know, Smitty, I’m never sure if that’s a promise or a threat.”
He shrugged. “It’s a little bit of both, I suppose.”
And Smitty let out a prayer of thanks when she laughed, kissed his cheek, and went through with the wedding anyway.