Bossy(125)
I’m too wound up. That must be it. My body’s on emotional overload right now, and it’s discharging in the kiss. Sense creeps slowly back into my mind, making me realize that I’m clinging like a lovesick bride to her brand new husband. Not for show, but because in that moment, he was the most real and sane thing in an ocean of insanity.
The cheering doesn’t stop until he pulls back, letting us both come up for air. His eyes crinkle in cocky amusement. “Man, if I knew all it would take was marrying you, I would’ve done it long ago.”
“Fuck you.” I say it in my sweetest tone and with a smile on my face.
His smile turns into a predatory grin and his eyes narrow. “Oh, you will. And I can’t fucking wait, babe.” He swings me back up to my feet, then continues loud enough for everyone to hear. “But first, we party!” Another cheer sounds from the crowd.
Captain Chuck appears behind us and puts a broad hand on each of our backs, guiding us towards a long table set up on the deck. His hand is rough and calloused, but that’s it. So why does Gavin’s touch make me feel all tingly and warm when I can’t even stand him?
I try not to think about it too much as servers show us our seats at the head of the table. The guy who took my stuff comes back, and I slip my wrap on like a makeshift dress. A little too late after he left me to get married in my swimsuit, but at least now I don’t feel as exposed, and the air’s getting cooler. Gavin sits down in just his board shorts, apparently happy enough with that. Strangest reception ever.
The Captain is seated to my left, and then Joyce and Mabel have places at Gavin’s right.
“I knew you folks had spoken before, so I figured you wanted some familiar faces at the table,” Chuck grinned.
Joyce is bubbling over with excitement, clapping her hands and talking to Mabel, who seems to be looking for the buffet. One of the stewards directs her back to her chair twice before the servers come with appetizers. It’s some kind of sashimi with a delicious dipping sauce, which is melt-in-your-mouth good. I can’t believe I’m even thinking it, but maybe Gavin’s right. Just enjoy the party, and we’ll get everything sorted out when we get home.
A platoon of servers step up, popping champagne bottles at the same time like a twenty-one gun salute. A cheer goes up and flutes are poured. As soon as our glasses are filled, Captain Chuck stands and proclaims a toast to the happy couple. Then someone else does. Then Gavin stands and makes a toast to all the guests, and so on and so on. By the first main course, some kind of fish and crab dish with scallops in an amazing clear sauce, I’m feeling pretty happy, already well into my third glass.
Gavin looks at me curiously when I pop one of the scallops in my mouth and chew it happily. “Babe, didn’t you say you were allergic to shellfish?”
“Yup.” I giggle, and it’s not just the champagne. “I might’ve said those words.”
His eyes widen for a moment, then he laughs. “I’ll get you for that.” The hot promise in his voice makes my breath catch.
Joyce looks at me with a sparkle in her eye and picks up her dessert spoon. Oh no. Gavin spots her and his face breaks into a large grin. When she starts ringing her glass, he’s already leaning in for the kiss. I must be drunk, because I turn to meet him without having to convince myself.
God, he kisses so well. The heat from his lips surges through me, filling my body from the tips of my fingers and down to my toes, but most of it pools right between my legs. When we part I’m breathing heavy, and so is he. Something tells me he’s not going to be as easy to push away tonight, and maybe it’s the champagne, but right now that doesn’t sound so bad.
Joyce was the first to ring her glass, but she definitely isn’t the last. Each new kiss is a little bit deeper than the last, and Gavin’s letting his hands roam more freely as night falls and it’s easier to hide. When he cups my ass and I don’t immediately slap him, we’re both a bit surprised, I think.
By the time we get to dessert, which is a tall spindly thing that I have no idea what is other than that it tastes deliciously sweet and is decorated with heavenly melted chocolate, my nipples are rubbing against my top, and I’m squirming in my seat. If only I could keep Gavin using his mouth for kissing instead of talking, I might not even want the annulment.
Out on deck, a large area has been set off as a dance floor, and as the servers clear away the last of our dishes, a live band starts up. Chuck’s right there with them, picking up the microphone and declaring that it’s time for our first dance as a married couple. It’s a good thing I’m pretty drunk, because all of my dancing experience comes from dance clubs. Sober, I’d never dare to let Gavin pull me out of my chair and onto the dance floor.