“J actually got the tat before me; it’s his design. And I’m starting to realise, after twelve years together, that he’s a sentimental bastard.”
“No shit,” the chick muttered, hitting me with a look of surprise.
Madison dug my grave marked ‘pussy’ even further by adding, “Oh, you should see my wedding ring that he had engraved. On the inside of the band is a replica of this tat with these dates on it too. His is the same.”
“Fuck me,” the tattooist said, shaking her head. Then she looked at me again and said, “For future reference, where do I find a guy like you? You know, just in case my husband runs off with some slut.”
“Trust me, babe, you don’t want a guy like me. I’m a moody fuck at the best of times, just ask my wife,” I said.
“Good with his hands though,” Madison teased, and they both laughed.
“Well, you can’t argue with that. But this tat is something else; I love it when guys come in here getting symbolic stuff like this.”
My phone rang and I excused myself, and walked outside.
“Griff. What’s up?”
“Just sending through an email conversation I tracked down?”
“Why are you sending it to me, brother?”
“It’s between Marcus and the Adelaide President; a conversation about the pictures of you and that blonde that were taken when you were down there. They set you up on that one, J. Seems he paid the bitch to hit on you and make it look like you guys had hooked up.”
“The fucking bitch was all over me that night; I couldn’t get her off me.”
“Marcus always planned to use it against you.”
I fought the rising anger I felt towards Marcus; this anger never seemed to go away, and I wondered what would happen if the day came where I failed to contain it. “Thanks, Griff.”
“Thought you might want to show it to Madison, in case she had any lingering doubt. You don’t need to start your marriage off with that shit between you.”
I saw what he was saying. Madison had surprised the shit out of me when she’d blindly accepted my word that nothing happened, and for me, it had been a real turning point for us. It proved to me just how much faith and trust she had in me.
We hung up and I headed back inside. Madison was just finishing up with the tattooist so I paid the bill, and then we headed outside into the sunshine. March in Port Douglas was beautiful and we’d had a great time over the last two weeks. Tomorrow we headed home; back to deal with this club shit. Until then, I’d enjoy having my wife to myself.
“Who was on the phone?” she asked.
“Griff.”
“Is everything okay?”
I pulled my phone out and passed it to her, the message open and ready for her to read. “Yeah baby, he sent me this for you to read.”
She frowned as she took the phone off me. A minute later she looked up at me, smiled and handed the phone back to me.
“So?” I asked her.
“J, I didn’t need to read that to know you were being truthful about that woman.”
“Really?”
“Really. We’ve been through a hell of a lot together, and I’m at a place now where I know you. I know that you love me. I know that this is forever, no matter what. And I know that I’m the only one for you. You’ve laid your soul out for me, baby, flaws and all; you’ve given me all of you.” She rested her hand gently against my cheek. “You might be a dirty mouthed, moody asshole, but you love with all your heart and that’s all a woman can ask for. So yeah, I don’t need further proof of your love and commitment.”
Fuck me.
I kissed her and then murmured, “I love you.”
She leant her forehead against mine. “I love you, too.”
We stayed connected like that for a couple of minutes, letting that settle in.
When we finally pulled apart, she smiled and promised me the world. “We’re getting our forever, J.”
––––––––
THE END
BONUS SCENES
But wait, there’s more ;)
I couldn’t NOT give you this scene!
Nash
After the Wedding
Fuck me, this chick was something fucking else. I’d be having words with Madison when I saw her next for not introducing me and Serena earlier. I stood transfixed as she kicked her heels off. Most chicks would just kick them off. Not this one. She wore sexy like a second skin. Her flirty eyes held mine as she seductively eased out of those fuck-me shoes. My cock stood up, screaming for some attention. Hell, who the fuck was I kidding? She’d had my cock hard all fucking night.
“Nash, how many chicks do you screw in an average week?”
What the fuck? What kind of chick asked that type of question? I answered her honestly. “As many as I can talk into it.”
She gave me an impatient look. “Yeah, give me a number. Ball park.”
I shrugged. Fuck, I hoped this didn’t put an end to our fun tonight. “Seven on a good week. But average is probably three.”
I waited for her to call it quits but was happy as fuck when she started taking off her dress.