Changing Course (Wrecked and Ruined #1)(8)



In times like these, you have to let go of your pride. Alone and proud, or balls deep and coming. So I relent to her sexual terrorism.

"Twelve to nine, and I'll buy you a new bottle of wine tomorrow." I move over to her and crush my mouth to hers, shoving my hand down her pants to join her moving fingers.

"Oh thank God, I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep that up. I loved watching you get hard through your pants like that. I almost got off on that alone."

"You are going to kill me one of these days with all of your crazy games."

"I hope not, I'd miss you."

"Right, because then who would you play Jeopardy with?" I ask, causing her to laugh before pulling her shorts off and climbing into my lap.

"I love you," she says, sinking down onto my waiting erection. "And thank you for the big bottle of wine."

"Who said anything about it being a big bottle?" I run my hands over her ass trying to push her down a little faster, but she freezes at my words with only the tip nestled inside.

"Okay, okay. Fine. A big bottle. I'll buy you a whole damn vineyard if you stop teasing and f*ck me right now."

"Now that I can do." She slams herself down, causing us both to shout out a curse.



That was Sarah, and I loved the entire quirky package. She was everything I wanted and needed in my life. She kept me in line when it was time to study for exams. Including her personal version of oral exams, one lick for every question I answered correctly. Unfortunately for my grades her licks were entirely too effective and we never made it past question three. She also helped me fill out my application for the academy by straddling my lap naked while feeding me left-over lo mein. She was more than my everything, Sarah was my forever.

Eight months, two days, and twelve hours after I first laid eyes on Sarah Erickson, I asked her to marry me. It wasn't the over-the-top romantic display most women brag about, but it was us. I cooked her a disgusting dinner and made her a tragically ugly cake. I gave her a 5x7 photo of Alex Trebek with this clue scrawled on the back:



Approximately 2,063,000 men ask this question every year. Only about fifty-four percent never ask it again.



It took her a few minutes to answer. I'm not sure she even truly understood what was happening. When I got down on one knee holding out the tiniest diamond coal has ever produced, she squealed out in true Jeopardy form, "What is: Will you marry me!" Tears streaming down her face.

Laughing, I teased, "Yes. You don't have to yell. Of course I'll marry you." This comment earned me a punch to the stomach that didn't even register in the midst of my elation that this beautiful woman was going to be my wife. I never once let her forget that she actually proposed to me.

Sarah and I lived a happy life. It wasn't perfect. We fought like any young couple, but that gave us even more opportunities for make-up sex, a personal favorite of ours. I finished college and entered the police academy, eventually graduating in the top of my class. Sarah put hours of work into writing, yet she never finished a single book. She always said she just had too many ideas.

Sarah's two best friends, Manda and Casey, were fixtures in our lives. Once we got married we didn't go to the clubs as often, but occasionally the girls would drag me out. One particular night, we ran into a fellow rookie detective, Caleb Jones. He took an immediate interest in "Regina". He even laughed when I pulled him aside and informed him that her name was actually Manda.

Those two did the on-again off-again thing for years before Caleb told her he was done with the bullshit and wanted to get married. It was mainly Manda who was playing games, so she was a hard sell, but apparently Caleb can be very persuasive when he wants to be. It was Manda who got the last laugh, accepting his proposal, but refusing to actually tie the knot.

The four of us became extremely close. It was nice to have another couple to hang out with on the weekends. Sarah and Manda planned Friday evenings full of drunken board games. If Casey happened to be dating someone, they came too. Caleb and I later ended up being partnered together at work, and eventually, he became my best friend. Even when he and Manda were in an "off phase," Caleb would still meet me at the hole in the wall bar down the street to watch whatever sport was in season.

April 18, 2009 was the day the world came crashing down on our picture perfect little group. The four of us had decided to go out for dinner at our favorite pizza joint. Westies had the most delicious deep dish Chicago pizza you have ever tasted, and the cheap beer didn't hurt either. We went there almost weekly for years, but I've never been back since that night. Caleb and I got called away on a case, and Sarah and Manda decided to stay and finish dinner.

"Got to go, babe," I say to Sarah while nodding to Caleb across the table. "Seems they found Mrs. Reynolds alive and well, shacked up with her pool boy."

"Oh my God, Brett. Isn't she like seventy-five years old?" Manda asks in disgust from across the table.

"Seventy-eight, actually. But we need to go close this one out. It shouldn't take long, we just need to see her wrinkly face and take a statement that she was never really missing. Seven million pages of paperwork all because granny got horny."

The girls let out loud “Ewws” in unison while Caleb and I stood to leave.

"I'll meet you back at the house, sweetheart." I leaned forward, kissing Sarah's forehead while tucking a stray blonde hair behind her ear.

Aly Martinez's Books