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He smirked.  “I think we’ve established that the last thing I need to work for is your pussy.”
He was so right.
“Congratulations, honey,” my mum said as she enveloped me in a hug.
“Thanks, Mum.”  She’d spent some time with me this morning helping me get ready but after that I hadn’t seen much of her.  This was one of the only things about today that I was disappointed in.  That and the fact that my father was an asshole and not worth having at my wedding.
“Your father -” she started but I cut her off.
“Please don’t mention him, Mum.  Not today.”
“Okay, honey,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Thank you.”
“J’s a lucky man,” she murmured. “And I’m so happy that you found a man who loves you as much as he does.”
I hugged her again.  It meant a lot to me that one of my parents knew how good J was for me, and supported me in my choice.
As we broke our hug, I noticed J giving me the look that said ‘get your ass over here’.  “I’ve got to go and see what J wants, Mum, but I’ll catch up with you a little later on, okay?”
She nodded and I made my way to my bossy biker.  He looked hot today dressed in his jeans, tight black t-shirt and cut.  It was pretty much his standard attire but I could tell he’d taken extra care today.  And that body of his.  My eyes soaked him in.  His muscles flexed under that t-shirt and I was getting anxious to get it off of him.
He noticed me checking him out and smirked at me.  “How long you reckon it would take to get you out of here and under me somewhere?”
I was just about to answer him when we were interrupted by some of his biker friends.  He pulled me close and I whispered back, “Not long, baby, so let’s hurry this along.”
He looked down at me and shook his head.  “You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that, right?”
J draped his arm over the back of my chair and leant close to me.  “You ready for our first dance, sweetheart?”
“Oh God, J, are you going to kill me with this song too?”
He grinned at me.  “You liked that other one?”
“Yes,” I murmured “I loved that you picked that.  Who knew you could be so deep?”
“Fuck, babe.  My cock gets hard when you say deep,” he groaned.
I smacked him lightly on the arm.  “Can you get your mind out of the gutter for even a moment?”
“Not when you’re next to me.  And not when I haven’t fucked you for a good twenty four hours.”
I decided it was time to play with him.  I turned my head so our lips were close, and whispered, “I did what you said.”
He looked perplexed.  “And what was that?”
“You said not to wear any underwear.”
His eyes widened.  “Christ, woman.  Don’t fucking tell me that now.”  He looked away from me and then back at me before saying, “This dance is gonna have to wait.”  He grabbed my hand and abruptly stood up, pulling me with him.
However just as he did that, Griff, our MC for tonight, called out, “Time for your first dance, you lucky bastard.”
I stifled a laugh; J actually looked pained.  “Come on, baby.  Let’s get this done and then you can take me out of here and fuck me,” I said just loudly enough for him to hear me.
Now he just looked pissed off.  But he pulled me towards the dance floor.  He wrapped his arms around me and rested his hands on my ass.  Then he promised, “One dance and then I swear I’m gonna fuck you so you never forget it.  You’ll remember our first time as a married couple for the rest of your fucking life, Mrs Reilly.”
I broke out in a huge smile.  “I like the sound of that,” I said.
He chuckled.  “Yeah, so do I, babe.”
I shook my head.  “No, J.  I meant that I liked you calling me Mrs Reilly.”
His face softened, and he lightly kissed me.  “Been a long time coming, sweetheart, but I finally made you mine.”
The music started playing, and J nodded as I took in the words of the song he’d chosen.  Tears threatened again as I listened to “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” by Bryan Adams.
I curled my hand around his neck and pulled his face down to mine.  “I was yours from the first day we met, J, you just didn’t know it.”
I sat up and looked at Madison.  “You ready?”
“Yeah, move.”  She waved her hand indicating I should get out of the way.
I laughed, and stood up, and she took my place.
The tattooist smiled at her and then she got to work on Madison’s tattoo, the one on her wrist that matched mine.
The tattooist enquired, “Is this your wedding date I’m adding to this tat?”
“Yes.  Is it a dead giveaway that we’re on our honeymoon?” Madison laughed.
“You do have that just married feel, yeah,” the tattooist admitted, and then asked Madison, “How the hell did you get your husband to agree to ink himself with this tattoo?  Mine wouldn’t have a bar of it.  He’d mutter something about sentimental bullshit and how he’s not into that shit.”  She looked at me and winked.