Jay's Loelife Ch. 33

chapter

epilogue

loe

Lars watches Isaac, Cole, Corey and myself as we run through the choreography of Danny and the gang's half of Grease's Summer Nights song and groans. "You guys are so much better at this than I am."

"We've been in front of the camera for a long time. The key—" I snap my fingers as I move like a greaser in the late fifties. "Is to over-exaggerate every move. Make sure your facial expressions are extra. It presents better to the crowd."

"If your hair isn't a little messed up by the time the song ends, you weren't moving enough," Isaac tells him with a laugh.

"And just be as crude as you can. We're pigs." Cole queues the song up from the beginning and we run through it again. I'm not sure I'll be able to hold a straight face. I can handle our part—we've practiced the giggles out—but I haven't seen Jay and his groomsmen performing their part yet. Knowing Jay is Sandy, which is all too fitting, and Seamus is Rizzo, well, it may prove too much.

Lars bends at the waist and takes a few breaths. "The more we practice, the nervouser I get."

"Nervouser, huh?" Cole laughs, but shuts the song off. "We don't really need to practice. We're about to do it for real. Open the window and let's have a drink. We have ninety-minutes before the show starts."

"It's a wedding," Isaac corrects. "Just cause Loren can't do things like normal people, doesn't mean we're goofing off. Our role today, first and foremost, is to get Loren married."

I nod. "He's right. But first, we have to nail our entrance."

While Lars heads across the room to let some more fresh air in, I grab a couple of drinks from the mini-fridge. Palming three in each hand, I set them on the counter. "Do you want—" I glance at Lars and the words die on my tongue. He's white as a ghost as he stares out the window. "What's wrong?"

He jolts from the window like he was struck with a live wire. "Nothing. Just spacin' out."

I narrow my eyes and stalk toward him. Lars can't lie for shit. "What's outside?"

He steps between me and the window. "Nothing. Just guests. You know, maybe we should do one more run through. I'm a little soft on the shoo-wops."

"There are no shoo wops, just well-a well-a's." I move to the left to pass him. He blocks me. I move right. He blocks me. I fake left, then cut right, sprinting past him to the window.

Lars rushes to my side in full panic mode. "I don't know why they're here. I didn't know. I haven't talked to them since before I came to visit you in Washington that first time."

Cole, Isaac, and Corey run across the room, hopping anything in their way until they're crowded around the window, staring at Jay and his groomsmen as they speak to my birth donors.

"What the fuck are they doing here?!" Isaac growls.

Corey scoffs. "They seriously think they're going to show up and be welcomed at Loren's fucking wedding? That's goddamn ballsy."

While everyone keeps a steady stream of commentary, my blood begins to boil, heated by their fucking audacity. With fist clenched, I back away from the window and march out of the room.

I'm going to confront those mother fuckers.

The guys rush me, halting my mission. "Whoa, whoa, whoa."

Cole grabs my shoulders, putting his face in front of mine. "Let's think this through. It's your wedding day. We don't need to let them ruin it."

"They won't ruin it, but if they think they can come and try, then I deserve to know why."

Corey shakes his head. "I think it's a bad idea."

"Can we at least sneak down and see what they're saying?"

I don't want to hide behind the fucking fence, but it's clearly the only way I'm going to get anywhere close to the action.

We tiptoe through the kitchen, out the back door, where we slink along the side of the building, past the dumpsters until we're only a few feet away from where Jay is standing with Them, with only a fence separating us from the fury I feel building.

"I'm not arguing about this anymore. You're not stepping foot in this event center. There is nothing for you here."

"Our sons—" a man argues.

Lars and I look at each other. What in the actual fuck?

"No, not sons. At most, you have one son and I'd say that's a stretch. If you want to fix things with Lars, then you're welcome to try any other day of the year. The fact you think it's appropriate to show up today is baffling, but then again, every decision I've known you to make baffles me. Now, leave or I will call the police."

"Someone in your position should know not to make threats to someone who can expose—"

Jay scoffs. "Loren's entire life is public record. The only thing he hasn't shared is you two. Which means the only dirt you have is your own. And before you argue—know that I knew things weren't right. There were pieces missing from Loren and Lars' story. Not by their choosing, but by yours."

"You found nothing."

"That's not true." Scott says. "I had the firm's private investigator pull every piece of paper he could find. I found some interesting information on the lead prosecutor, Paul Messner."

A female gasps.

I look at Lars in case he knows who this guy is. He shrugs.

"You think someone in his position, someone who enabled you to evade true consequences, who didn't question Lars or take him from your home after you abandoned Loren, should have a job where people rely on him to do the right thing?" Jay asks. "I would have never slept another night if I turned my back on what I found. And if you don't leave, the law will see what else there was."

"It's time for you to get the hell out." Seamus tells them. "Now."

There is no response, so we try to peek through the slats.

Isaac cups his face, as if it's going to help him see through the wood. "Do you think they're still there?" he whispers.

"No, they're gone."

We freeze and slowly look left.

Jay, Taylor, Derek, Seamus, Will, Scott, Garrett, Shawn, and Marcus stare at us with their arms crossed.

Seamus rolls his eyes. "You guys weren't sneaky at all. I heard you as soon as you tumbled out of the back door."

Jay watches us nervously, waiting for us to freak out on him for sneaking behind our backs and hiring a private investigator.

I slide my hand over his perfectly round ass and push him toward the house. "Stop stressing. Nothing that you found changes what was done to us. But thank you for having our backs with them. Maybe, in a few weeks, when we're back from our sex dungeon honeymoon, we can sit and talk." I look at Lars. We have a pretty good thing going. Do we want them to come in and ruin it? "Then again, maybe not."

Without a glance back, we leave them behind. Because this is our‌ day and only we decide how it will go.

****

We mill around in the small room just outside the main hall. We straighten our leather jackets and make sure the laces on our black converse are secure. This video will go viral because it's fucking epic, not because someone trips on a shoelace halfway through the wedding performance.

The lead producer from Adventure Productions pops his head around the corner. "Ninety seconds."

Lars holds out my Ray-Bans with a shaky hand.

I put them on. "I'm the one getting married here, don't know why you're about to pass out."

He puts on his sunglasses and scoffs. "It's not like millions of people will watch this video."

"It's not about millions of people, it's about having fun on my wedding day. This is a memory for us. And if we're lucky, everyone gets to enjoy it, even you."

Cole grabs both of us by the scruff of our neck and hauls us out of the room until we're huddled by the side entrance.

When the intro of Summer Night starts, the doors open and we side-step into the room, snapping our fingers to music.

Jay and his groomsmen, over half who are NFL players, sashay down the opposite aisle looking absolutely proper in chinos, tight white shirts, and pastel cardigans with their hair carefully combed.

Jay looks up, all blue eyed and innocent, and smiles at me.

I trip over myself, almost ruining months of practice. Isaac grabs my elbow and balances me, snapping me back into the moment.

Oh yeah. Song and dance.

But then Jay bats his lashes. 'I met a boy, cute as could be'.

I'm never getting out of here alive.

****

"Do you, Jay, take Loren, to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

Jay stares at me with all the love a person can offer. "I do."

"Do you, Loren—"

"I do."

Jay laughs and I can't stop the smile that splits my face.

****

"Ladies and gentlemen. It's the moment we've been waiting for, the reason we're all here. For the first time, I'd like to introduce Jay Petermeyer and Loren Patrick, but as husbands!"

The entire room erupts as Jay and I enter the reception hall. I'm still wearing the leather jacket and shades; Jay is still rocking his pastel cardigan.

Carson, Wyatt, and the twins are dressed like me, with the fucking cutest little 501 and leather Jackets, the boys killin' it with slicked back hair, while Aidan, Mya, and Lizzie look like they won't settle for anything less than an A+++ on the next math test.

"Best wedding improv ever." Megan, my OG friend and owner of Buck farms, gushes as Jay and I make our way through the room. "You were better Danny and Sandy than John Travolta and Olivia Newton John."

Jay rolls his eyes and hugs her. "I'll try not to be offended."

Megan laughs. "You guys absolutely nailed it perfectly. But seriously, congratulations. We're all so happy."

Her husband, Mitchell, hugs me. "Enjoy your night, man. You deserve this."

It really is the best night of my life. We do all the wedding things like the first dances. Jay dances with his mamma, who seems to have warmed a bit to the new normal. I dance with Julie, the best mom I could've asked for.

We even do the cake eating contest. Instead of a garter toss, we toss a five-thousand-dollar getaway.

Jay's always been such a lame dancer. Total dad moves. Every cringey and ironic dance there is, Jay has mastered them all. I'm here for it. I bring the cup of water to my lips and watch as he finishes swinging his mom around the dance floor, then drags a bunch of kiddos out and teaches them how to Beyonce. He's so patient, so kind.

I'm fucking lucky.

Jay spies me and crooks his finger, summoning me to join him. I throw the cup in the trash and grab the twins from Lars and Courtney on the way. If we're dancing with the kids, we're dancing with all the kids. Every one of them will know exactly how loved they are by us.

At 9:07pm the alarm on my phone dings. I signal to the DJ. He cuts the music and tosses me the mic.

"Alright folks. Jay and I have to be in the car and on the road in seven minutes. That means you have three minutes to move your ass to the steps out front with a bag of rice. In four minutes, those doors are going to open and we're going to walk outside. 3-2-1 and go!"

Don't worry, we hired the best staff. They get all six-hundred people out the front door and perfectly lined up down the steps and along the walkway.

I hold the phone in one hand, watching the seconds count down, while holding Jay's hand with the other. When the next alarm rings, the staff opens the door and we make our final exit, running through a tunnel of people while getting doused in rice.

By the time we get to the waiting SUV, we have forty seconds.

It takes us exactly twenty-two minutes to get from the event center to the airport. Forty-one minutes before we're in the air. The flight is four-hours and seven-minutes. The car service is waiting when we land. It takes ninety-nine minutes to arrive at the private beachfront villa that is home for the next two weeks.

I shove Jay into the house and start tearing at his clothes. "According to my calculations, I have seventeen seconds to get you naked."

Jay laughs as I attempt to undress him, but his cardigan is clinging to his shirt and I can't seem to get the fucking thing off him. I tug and tug and tug but it just won't come off. Jay cups my face and doesn't let go. Then he kisses me soft and slow. The vibrating energy within me settles as I melt into him. We haven't kissed like this in a year for fear we couldn't stop.

Now that I'm not so strung out on pheromones, Jay strips his cardigan off and then pulls his shirt over his head. Then he plucks undone the button on his chinos.

Oh fuck. I moan into his mouth and run my hands over his chest and down his abs. I grab his open waistband and pull him with me as I walk blindly backward. I push open a couple of doors before landing in the master room. It's big, that's about all I can see.

I stick my hand down Jay's pants and shudder at the hard heat against my fingers. I want to cry. It's been so long and I want him so fucking bad I'm shaking.

We only break the kiss long enough for Jay to take my shirt off. Even as we step out of our pants, we're still kissing, running our hands everywhere. Jay grabs my ass and hefts me onto the bed until I'm stretched out, and he's on top of me.

My lips move from his lips, to his jaw, to the curve of his neck. "The lube is in the bag."

"It's fine," he pants. "I won't make it that far."

The fuck he won't. I push him off me. "I didn't wait a fucking year to not consummate this thing as God intended."

I escape from his bulk hovering over me and storm out, not actually angry, but really fucking horny. I squeeze my dick to stave off the tension as I find the door that leads to the garage, where our bags are stowed. I grab the small green travel bag and rush back to the bedroom. I take the lube out and drop everything else on the floor before crawling back in bed and sprawling on top of Jay.

He holds me tight against his body as we make out. He moans. "I could make out with you forever."

I crawl down his body. "Isn't that the point of getting married?"

He stops me and flips us over. Jay pushes my legs up while giving me a few more bruising kisses, like he can't tear himself away, but then he does. He grabs the lube and opens me while sucking my balls. My toes curl and my back arches as he brings me to the brink. Before pushing me over, he comes back to me, hooking my legs around his body.

Jay kisses my face and presses against me. "I love you so much."

I close my eyes and breathe through the pressure. Jay and I have had sex countless times, yet I'm more nervous than I was the first time I ever had sex.

"Open your eyes."

I do, and the most comforting sea-blue eyes stare back.

He smiles. "There you are." Then he presses into me.

There's no sweet talk or eye gazing. Once Jay is in me, he's thrusting. It takes a minute to adjust. He's a fucking horse, but then I'm squeezing his ass with my feet, arching my back, making noises that would frighten most God-fearing folk. I reach between our bodies and grab my hard, aching dick and squeeze. I don't need much stimulation 'cause he's got me tippin' right to the edge. He lifts my ass and goes hard and deep, then faster as he cums. I'm right there with him. My legs tense and body shakes as the longest, most intense orgasm rips through my body. A year's worth of cum shoots out of me.

Jay slumps over me with his head on my lower chest, his hot breaths on my skin.

I sling an arm over my face and try to steady my heart rate. "Sex is better when you're married."

Jay pushes himself up and looks at me with a crooked brow. "Is that so?"

I take a deep breath, still struggling to breathe. "It's likely the year of no dick play lowered my standards."

Nope. Jay pins my hands above my head and makes a liar of me. Still hard, he hovers and presses into me again. With his arms on either side of my head, he rocks in and out of me. I'm spent and a little tender, but he's gentle. I tug my arms, but he won't free them. He's hitting everything just right, but he's not giving me enough friction to satisfy the knot in my belly. Only when he loses it does he touch me where I want it.

Jay flops beside me and slides his hand across my stomach. "I've waited a long time to do this—to lie in bed with you as my husband."

With no Stratego to distract us, I snuggle against my husband and rub my hands all over his muscular body. I still don't care for football, but I admit the NFL did a bangin' job on Jay's physique. Even in retirement, he's kept it tight. I walk my fingers everywhere, just making up for lost time.

Soon, his breathing slows to a soft snoring.

Husband. I never thought that word would apply to me, but here we are. Look at me, having sex with my husband, the last man to ever taste my dick. And the thought doesn't sour my gut. The opposite, actually. Lying here next to Jay, my husband, knowing that he's the man I will spend the rest of my life with, fills my soul with the same glow I see when I look at Jay. What does that say about him and how his internal goodness shines so brightly it overflows into me?

I press against him until he stirs and tightens his arm around me, then I drift off into a slumber of post orgasmic and wedding bliss.

****

I block the sun with my hand as I step outside. Holy shit. It's fucking bright.

Jay steps beside me and hands me a pair of sunglasses. "Thought you might need these after spending four straight days in the sex dungeon."

"First—" I hold up my fingers, "it's a luxury villa. Second, I didn't hear you complaining."

"How could I? You had me bound and gagged."

I laugh. The expression on his face when I slipped the blindfold over his eyes and then led him to the room and tied his hands to the headboard was fucking priceless. Did he love it? Fuck yeah he did. He was hard as hell and loud as a howler monkey as I rode him until he was a bumbling mess.

"Your sensibilities are enacted. Plus, I gave you vanilla ice cream after."

"Which was insulting."

"And delicious."

Jay doesn't respond because the ice cream was just as good in a bowl after sex as it was when I ate it off his dick while he was blindfolded. Found out he's insanely sensitive to temperature variations, so that was fun.

I follow Jay to the pool chairs. We drop our towels, SPF up, and then float around for a bit. My dick is pretty dead at this point and my ass is in recovery, but watching Jay be all shirtless in his ball cap and aviators as the sun dries the water droplets from his skin makes my dick twitch. It's absolutely insane how someone can be that attractive and not know it.

Jay adjusts his hat to block more of the sun. "Stop staring. We're not having sex outside."

"I know."

Fucking paps. I'm ninety-nine percent sure they don't know where we are, but it only takes one nosey reporter to ruin the trip.

I adjust my shorts. He may have gotten a twitch from me, but that's about as much life as it has. Just enough juice in the battery to keep the power light blinking, but not enough to run the toy.

Luckily, we have nothing but time.

Cousin Camp

————

The loudspeakers vibrate as they blast some fun Kidz Bop music in the driveway. A brightly colored bounce house sits in the side yard, under the zipline. Drinks are in the coolers and a smorgasbord of snacks line the colorful outdoor buffet table. The whole yard looks like the aftermath of a Crayola explosion.

On cue, a luxury coach turns the corner and rolls toward us. The air brake whooshes as the coach slows to a stop. After a long moment, the doors open.