Special Delivery by April Wilson

Chapter 27 – Lia

Lia McIntyre

After the guys get back from their vengeance raiding party, Jonah and I say good night to everyone and head upstairs to our room. As realization hits, my stomach starts doing somersaults.

This is my honeymoon night.

Granted, we aren’t going away for our honeymoon, but it’s our first night together as a married couple. Is that going to change anything? I doubt it. But still, it’s a momentous occasion.

Once we’re in our room, with the door closed and locked behind us—just in case any exuberant well-wishers decide to pop in to congratulate us—Jonah surprises me by leading me out onto the balcony. 

I laugh. “What, you’re not just going to rip my clothes off and have your way with me?”

“Not quite yet, no. We need to talk.”

Uh-oh. Those are the four most hated words in the English language. “Talk about what?”

When we’re outside, facing the lake view, Jonah takes my hand in both of his and holds it to his chest, right over his heart. We stand, facing each other, and the tension is so thick I could cut it with a knife.

“Just spit it out, Jonah,” I blurt out.

He winces. “I just need to be sure, Lia. Really sure.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our wedding was so spontaneous and impromptu. I just want to make sure you didn’t feel pressured into doing something—”

“All right, rock star, stop right there. Since when am I the type of person who gets pressured into doing anything she doesn’t want to?”

He smiles. “Well, normally you’re not. But today was different. We got married, Lia. And to be honest, that’s something you’ve been resisting for quite a while. I need to be sure you’re happy about that, and that you didn’t feel pressured into it. Remember, it’s not even legal until we sign the papers. If you change your mind or want to back out, you can at any time. I won’t hold it against you, I promise.”

“Would you please shut up and kiss me?” I grab his shoulders and pull him down so our mouths are level. “Since this is our honeymoon, I think there should be less talking and way more kissing.”

He’s smiling, but he’s still not done. “I’m serious. If you’re not one hundred percent sure—”

“For god’s sake.” I take his hand and pull him back into the bedroom. First things first, I grab the hem of his sweatshirt and lift it up. He helps me by whipping it over his head and dropping it to the floor. I whip off my T-shirt and toss it aside, too, quickly following with my bra.

He just stands there, his gaze locked on my breasts.

“You are such a boob man,” I say as I reach for the fastener on his jeans. I tug them down his legs, along with his boxer-briefs. His erection springs free.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I ask. “The idea of married sex.”

Reaching for me, he grins. “I am.”

I pull back out of his reach. “How about a honeymoon blow job from your wife?” I wrap my fingers around his length, tighten my grip, and gaze up into his eyes.

Jonah’s gaze darkens as he stares down at me, his expression hungry.

Oh, yeah, he wants this.

I back up, pulling him with me, until I hit the mattress. Then I sit and spread my legs, drawing him to stand between them. When I lean forward and run my nose along the length of him, breathing in his heated scent, he groans and fists my hair.

“Jesus, Lia.”

I chuckle. “Oh, we’re just getting started, buster.”

Since this is his honeymoon blow job, I’m going to make sure it’s a damn good one.

As I lick the length of him, from his balls to the crown, he arches his back and growls his pleasure. I circle the head of him with my tongue, tasting salty pre-cum, and his fingers dig into my scalp.

After I’ve teased the hell of out of him, I draw him into my mouth and take him deep. He groans loudly, which thrills me, and his breaths come in rapid pants. I struggle with insecurity, but when I hear him make raw, guttural sounds like that, it mollifies me. Maybe I am enough.

I love blowing Jonah. I love watching his arousal grow. I love feeling his strength and his power and knowing it’s for me. Taking him deep into my throat, I stroke him with my tongue, teasing and licking and jacking his pleasure higher and higher. All the way to the back of my throat, I envelop him in tight wet heat, until he starts thrusting mindlessly, his breaths harsh and quick, his hands gripping my head. He tries to be a gentleman about it, but eventually he loses control and starts fucking my mouth.

His cock throbs wildly against my lips and tongue, and I know he’s close to coming.

Suddenly, he pulls out and grabs hold of my hands. “Not yet,” he says as he tries to catch his breath. He pushes me onto my back and pulls off my cargo pants and underwear and tosses them aside. Then he yanks off my shoes and socks, and kicks off his own. Now we’re both naked.

Then he’s on his knees beside the bed, shoving my legs open and draping them over his broad shoulders.

One thing I’ve learned about Jonah is that he’s an equitable lover. He gives as good as he gets.

I lean my head back on the mattress and sigh because I know mind-blowing pleasure is coming. A moment later, I feel his breath between my legs, cooling my wet heat. Then his tongue flicks my clit, over and over until my nerves are singing. My belly starts quivering, and my thigh muscles tighten in anticipation.

My man knows how to go down on a woman. He knows how to make my body shiver and quake and sing. His finger slides deep inside my opening, and he strokes me until I’m squirming. As pleasure ratchets higher and higher, I squeeze my eyes shut tight and block out everything but him and the wonderfully wicked things he can do with this tongue.

A random thought enters my head.

My husband is going down on me.

Jonah is my freaking husband.

And that sends me right over the top. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood as I try to keep from crying out. Pleasure races through my body, tensing every muscle, making me see stars as my orgasm sweeps through me. My entire body is alive and throbbing, shaking violently, and all I can do is feel pleasure.

He climbs up onto the mattress and kneels between my legs. My muscles are limp, and he arranges me the way he wants me, with my knees bent and my legs spread open wide, so that he can lean over me, his cock sinking deep into my wetness. He braces his palms on the mattress, one of each side of my head, and begins to move. It’s fast and furious and perfect. He plows into me, hard, relentlessly, and we’re both struggling to suck in air.

Jonah kisses me, his mouth hot and hungry. He steals my breath and gives me his. My fingers slide into his hair, and I grip his head tightly, holding him to me.

He’s so hot and thick inside me, throbbing, and I feel the moment he climaxes, filling me with his heat. And he keeps thrusting as he revels in the feel of our bodies joined.

As he gradually comes down from the high, his kisses turn more gentle. He murmurs sweet nothings in my ear and strokes my hair and face softly. It’s like he loses control, and then he feels like he has to apologize.

I pull him down on top of me, loving the weight of his big body on mine. We roll to our sides, still joined together, one of my legs splayed over his hip.

He kisses me. “Wife.” There’s so much satisfaction in his voice, in that one word.

I brush his hair out of his face. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He laughs. “I wouldn’t dare.”

He runs his blunt nails down the center of my back, along my spine, and I shiver. Then he starts tracing patterns—first a heart, then the words I, love, and you. When he’s done, his hand snakes up to grip the back of my neck and he kisses me for a very long time, until we’re both breathless.

After we make the mandatory trip to the bathroom to clean up, we crawl back into bed and wrap ourselves in each other’s arms. I’m wiped, and it’s late.

“Go to sleep,” he says when I yawn.

I skim my fingers down his chest. “You realize millions of girls are going to be heartsick when they find out you’re married.”

“I suppose so.”

I reach for my phone.

He eyes me warily. “What are you doing?”

I grab his hand—the one with my dad’s wedding band on it—and link our fingers together. I snap a pic of our hands that shows both of our rings, post it to Instagram, and add a caption that says, Sorry, girls. He’s off the market. “Boom!”

Jonah laughs. “Oh, my god. Here comes the backlash.”

“Too bad. You’re taken.”

“I was taken the day I laid eyes on you, tiger. We just finally made it official.”

* * *

Early the next morning, my phone buzzes with an incoming message. Sleepily, I reach for it and check the screen and the time. It’s just past seven.

“Who is it?” Jonah asks as he stretches.

“Hannah.”

“Is she okay?”

I read her message.

Hannah: I’m leaving in an hour. Liam’s driving me to the airport. Just wanted to say goodbye before I left.

Immediately, I hit the call button, and she answers on the first ring. I put the call on speaker.

“Crap,” she says. “I hope I didn’t wake you. I didn’t realize it was so early.”

“You didn’t. We’re up,” I lie.

Then she laughs. “I’ll bet Jonah’s been up all night. Shit. It’s your honeymoon. I shouldn’t have texted you.”

“It’s okay. Jonah’s still recovering. At his age, he needs a few minutes. By the way, you’re on speaker.”

Hannah groans. “Oh, double shit. Sorry, Jonah.”

Jonah laughs. “No problem, Hannah. Have a safe trip back.”

“What’s up, sis?” I ask her.

“I just wanted to say goodbye in person, if that’s possible. But I don’t want to interrupt your honeymoon. I won’t see you again until Christmas.”

“You’ll be back then?”

“Yeah.”

Something’s wrong. I can hear it in her voice. I put my phone on mute for just a moment, long enough to tell Jonah, “She sounds like she’s been crying.” I unmute my phone. “Hannah, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Honestly, you don’t sound fine.”

She sniffs. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry. I’ll let you get back to it.”

Then I hear a series of dull thuds that sound suspiciously like a gloved fist hitting a punching bag. “Are you in the fitness room?”

“Yeah. I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep. I thought a workout might help.”

“Want some company?”

She hesitates. “No, that’s all right. You’re busy.”

“I’m not too busy for you.” I sit up in bed and glance down at Jonah. He waves toward the door, motioning for me to go. “I’m coming down, Hannah. Be right there.” And then I end the call.

“What’s she upset about?” Jonah asks as he runs his warm fingers down my bare back.

“I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions.” I climb out of bed. “Sorry to bail on you, pal, but sisters before misters.”

Stretching, he chuckles. “Go.”

I hop out of bed and take a super quick shower before I pull on a pair of clean underwear, my workout shorts, a sports bra, socks and sneakers. After brushing my teeth, I quickly braid my wet hair. Then I’m out the door and heading down to the lower level.

It’s not unusual for Hannah to be up early. She’s always been an early riser. When we were kids and shared a bedroom, she’d be the last one to bed and the first one to wake. Sometimes I wondered if she slept at all.

The fitness room is dark, with just one light on in the locker room. I flip on a set of overhead lights and dim them.

Hannah’s standing in front of a punching bag, gloves on. She’s covered in sweat, which means she’s been going at it for quite a while.

I grab a pair of gloves and slip them on, using my teeth to secure the Velcro wrist straps. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

“No.” She moves to the center of the mat. “You wanna let me kick your ass?”

I laugh. “No.”

Hannah and I are pretty evenly matched when it comes to martial arts, but she’s bigger than I am. She’s a half-foot taller than me and a good twenty pounds heavier.

“So, Liam’s taking you to the airport?” I ask as we circle each other on the mat.

She lunges forward, trying to fake me out. “Yeah.”

“Not Killian?”

Her expression tenses. “No. Why should he?”

“He picked you up from the airport.”

“Only because Shane asked him to.”

I snicker. “Sure. Only because Shane asked him to.”

Hannah throws a kick at my jaw, but I lunge back, out of range. Then I turn the tables on her, driving her back with a series of uppercuts followed by a right hook. When I succeed in catching her shoulder, she spins out of reach.

Hannah ducks beneath another kick. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Who? Shane?” Of course I know who she really means.

“No, idiot. Killian.”

“Are you seriously not into him?” I ask her, giving her an incredulous look. “The man’s fucking hot.”

We’re circling each other, both of us looking for an easy shot.

“Can we talk about something else?” she asks. “Like the fact that you got married yesterday. That was sneaky as hell, Lia. I didn’t have time to get you a wedding present.”

“I don’t want one.” I manage to drive her back with a couple of punches, followed by a kick.

“Are you happy about it?” she asks.

“About what? Getting married?”

“Yeah.” She pushes me back, almost to the edge of the mat, getting several good hits in.

“Sure. I love Jonah,” I say, breathing heavily now. “Honestly, being married isn’t going to change anything. I don’t care if we’re married or not, but it matters to him, so I’m happy to oblige.”

“You’re lucky. He’s a good guy.”

“So is Killian. What’s the deal with you two? Obviously, he’s crazy about you, and you keep blowing him off.”

Hannah stops in her tracks, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. “I’m not like the rest of you. I’d never be happy back in Chicago, so it’s pointless.”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions. Maybe Killian would relocate to Colorado to be with you.”

Hannah laughs. “Sure.”

“Have you ever asked him?”

Hannah comes after me with a vengeance, driving me back with a series of hits and kicks. “I’m not about to ask him to completely change his life, give up his job, uproot himself, and leave his friends. Just for me? Forget it.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t give him a chance.”