I had. I’d picked it out. “It was only a dress when I saw it,” I soothed. “It wasn’t a wedding dress until you wore it.”
“Oh.” The smile came back. She peeled off her sandals and joined me, lying down with her head in my lap, her hair a silvery gold fan across my thighs.
Running my fingers through the thick silk strands, I took a deep breath, relishing the smell of her perfume.
“What are you going to wear?” she asked, her eyes closing.
“Are you picturing something in particular?”
Her mouth curved. Her answer came out slow and dreamy. “A tux. You’re always gorgeous. But in a tuxedo, you’re something else.”
I brushed my fingertips over her lips. There had been times when I hated my face, hated that my looks attracted intense sexual interest at a time when being lusted after made my skin crawl. Eventually, I got used to the attention, but not until Eva did I begin to value who I was for my own sake.
She took so much pleasure in looking at me. Clothed. Unclothed. In the shower. Wrapped in a towel. On top of her. Underneath her. About the only time her eyes weren’t on me was when she was asleep. Which was when I often took the most pleasure in looking at her, lusciously naked, wearing nothing but the jewelry I’d given her.
“A tux it is, then.”
Her eyes opened, revealing the soft gray I adored. “But it’s a beach wedding.”
“I’ll make it work.”
“Yes, I bet you can.”
Turning her head, she nuzzled her nose against my cock. The heat of her breath drifted through the khakis to my sensitive skin. I hardened for her.
I played with her hair. “What do you want, angel?”
“This.” She ran her fingers along the length of my erection.
“How do you want it?”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “In my mouth,” she breathed, already freeing the button of my waistband.
My eyes closed for a moment on a deep inhalation. The sound of my zipper lowering, the release of pressure as she carefully freed my cock …
I steeled myself for the wet heat of her mouth, but it was pointless. I jerked hard when she pulled me in with easy suction, hunger and need tingling down my spine. I knew her moods and how they translated to sex. She planned to take her time, to enjoy me and drive me out of my mind.
“Eva.” I groaned as she stroked me with gentle fingers, her mouth working softly. She tongued the head of my dick with slow, savoring licks.
Opening my eyes, I looked down at her. The sight of her, so perfectly presentable, her focus entirely on the feel of my cock in her mouth was both searingly erotic and achingly tender.
“God, that’s good,” I said hoarsely, cupping the back of her head in one hand. “Take it deeper … yes, like that …”
My head fell back as my thighs tensed, straining with the need to thrust. I fought the urge, letting her take what she wanted.
“I won’t finish like this,” I warned her, knowing that was her goal.
She hummed a protest and fisted me, pumping my cock in her soft, firm grip. Challenging me to resist her.
“I’ll be riding your perfect cunt, Eva. My cum is going to be deep inside you while you spend the weekend away from me.”
My eyes closed as I imagined her in Ibiza, a city famous for its wild nightlife, dancing with her friends in a crush of bodies. Men would covet her, dream of fucking her. All the while she’d be marked by me in the most primitive way possible. Possessed, even though I wasn’t there.
I felt her moan vibrate along the length of my dick.
She pulled back, her lips already red and plump. “That’s not fair,” she pouted.
I caught her wrist and lifted her hand to my chest, pressing it against my pounding heart. “You’ll be right here, angel. Always.”
“Mano, you can’t be working right now,” Manuel complained, dropping into the lounger beside me. “You’re missing the view.”
I glanced up from my phone, the ocean breeze rifling through my hair. We’d remained in Barra today, directly across Avenida Lúcio Costa from the hotel we were staying in. Recreio Beach was more laid-back than Copacabana, less touristy and crowded. All along the shore, women in bikinis frolicked in the surf, breasts bouncing as they jumped waves, nearly-bare asses glistening with tanning oil. On the white sand in front of them, Arash and Arnoldo continued tossing a Frisbee back and forth. I’d bowed out when I felt my phone buzz in the pocket of my board shorts.
I looked at Manuel, finding him flushed and glistening with sweat. He’d disappeared about an hour ago and it was obvious why, even without knowing him as well as I did.
“My view is better.” I turned my phone to show him the selfie Eva had just sent me. She was lying out on the beach, too, stretched across a lounger not much different from the one I occupied. Her bikini was white, her skin already lightly tanned. A thin chain hooked around her neck, nestled between her plump tits, then wrapped around her trim waist. Sunglasses shielded her eyes and bright red gloss stained the lips she’d puckered in a kiss.
Wish you were here … she’d texted.
So did I. I was counting down the several hours remaining until we’d get on the plane home. Saturday had been enjoyable enough, a blur of alcohol and music, but Sunday was a day too long.
Manuel whistled. “Hot damn.”
I grinned, as that about summed up my thoughts on my wife’s photo.
“Don’t you worry that things will change after you say I do?” he asked, leaning back with his hands tucked behind his head. “Wives don’t look like that. They don’t send selfies like that.”
I exited out to the home screen and flipped my phone around again.
Manuel’s eyes widened at the wedding photo that served as my wallpaper. “No way. When?”
“A month ago.”
He shook his head. “I can’t see it. Marriage, I mean, not you and Eva. How does it not get old?”
“Being happy never gets old.”
“Isn’t variety the spice of life or some shit?” he asked, in some sort of half-assed philosophical mood. “Part of the fun in fucking a woman is figuring out what makes her tick and being surprised when she shows you something new. You keep tagging it, doesn’t it become routine? Touch her here, lick her there, keep the rhythm she likes to get her off … Rinse and repeat.”
“When your time comes, you’ll figure it out.”
He shrugged. “You want kids? Is that why?”
“Eventually. Not any time soon.” I couldn’t even picture it. Eva would make a wonderful mother; she was a nurturer. But the two of us together as parents? One day, I’d be ready for that. One day far away, when I could bear to share her with someone else. “Right now, I just want her.”
“Mr. Cross.”
I looked up and saw Raúl standing behind me, his mouth a tight line. I instantly stiffened, then sat up, my legs swinging off the side to plant my feet in the sand. “What is it?”
Fear for Eva settled heavily in my gut. She’d just texted me moments before, but …
“You’ll want to see this,” he said grimly, drawing my attention to the tablet he carried.
Standing, I shoved my phone in my pocket and closed the distance between us. I held out my hand. The glare from the sun darkened the screen, so I shifted to cast my shadow over the glass. The photo that came into focus froze the blood in my veins. The headline made my teeth grind.
Gideon Cross’s Wild Brazilian Bachelor Party.
“What the fuck is this?” I snapped.
Manuel slapped a hand on my shoulder as he came up beside me. “Looks like a good time, cabrón. With two very hot babes.”
I looked at Raúl.
“Clancy sent that to me,” he explained. “I ran a search and it’s gone viral.”
Clancy. Fuck. Eva …
Shoving the tablet at Raúl, I yanked my phone back out. “I want to know who took that picture.” Who knew I was in Brazil? Who’d followed me into a club one night, into a private VIP area, and taken pictures?
“Already on it.”
Cursing under my breath, I called my wife. Impatience and fury rode me hard as I waited for her to pick up. Her voice mail kicked in and I hung up. Dialed again. Worry crowded in.
The worst fears of her fantasies were captured in living color in that photo. I had to explain, even without knowing how. Sweat beaded my forehead and dampened my palms, but inside, I was chilled.
Her voice mail picked up a second time.
“Goddamn it.” Hanging up, I dialed again.
11
“You look like you need a refill,” Shawna said, setting down two rebujitos on the small table between our two loungers.
“God.” I laughed, slightly tipsy. The mix of dry sherry and sweet soda in the drink had a sneaky punch. And it wasn’t exactly wise to chase away a hangover with more alcohol. “I’m going to need to detox after this weekend.”
She grinned and stretched back out, her freckled skin still pale and slightly pink after two days in the sun. Her red hair was piled atop her head in a sexy mess, her voice slightly hoarse from laughing so hard the night before. She’d donned a bright aqua blue bikini that drew many appreciative eyes her way. Shawna was a bright spot of color, with a ready smile and bawdy sense of humor.