Four hours and four showers later, I lie in the semi-darkened room with my apparent husband. The light is just peeking through the crack in the drapes. My head is on his chest and his large muscular arms are around me. The night has been unbelievable to say the least.
We have devoured each other and if he wasn’t out of condoms, we probably still would be. I think we must have used a whole box.
“Where do you live?” he asks.
“New York,” I breathe. I cringe when I hear my husky voice—a symptomatic problem from lasts night’s Tequila and giving head activities, no doubt. “Where do you live?” I ask.
“Texas. Originally from Australia.”
I smile and gently kiss his chest and smile in contentment. “I had a good wedding night.”
He kisses my forehead. “Me, too.” I feel his lips smile against my skin. “You probably won’t be walking for a while.”
I giggle into his chest. “Actually, can you organize a wheelchair to get me back to my room, please?”
He smiles. “I would, but I will be using it myself.”
We lie in comfortable silence for a while longer. His hand runs back and forth over my behind as if memorizing every inch. I smile. “Are you using the theorem of calculus to measure my ass?”
He laughs out loud and rolls me onto my back and holds my hands above my head. “Your mind is a fucking turn on,” he breathes against my lips as his tongue gently explores my mouth.
I just can’t get my fill of this guy. “I could say the same thing. I have never had bilingual sex before.” I smile. Hell, most guys I have slept with can’t even speak English to me when we have sex, let alone drop in and out of three languages.
He smiles into my lips as he bites the bottom one and pulls it toward him. “Moi non plus, je peux être accro.”
Translation: Me neither, I may be addicted.
I have always had a love of languages. It was my stress reliever when I was in high school and my parents were divorcing. I would lock myself in my bedroom and listen to language tapes through headphones so I couldn’t hear them fighting. Looking back, all those hours alone in my room spent teaching myself was worth it just to experience the night I had with him. He challenged me, but I challenged him right back and I know I surprised him. Hell, I surprised myself.
It was empowering to be able to keep up with such an obviously intelligent man. Our eyes lock and something clicks into place as I feel a fluttering deep in my stomach.
“What do you do for work?” I ask to change the subject.
He lies naked on his side next to me and rubs his hand over my breast and squeezes it hard. “I’m a mechanic.”
I bite my lip to stifle my smile. He has softer hands than me. No way in hell is he a mechanic.
So we are playing that game, are we?
“What do you do?” he asks.
“I work in an ice-cream shop.”
He can’t hide his smile. “You are a dreadful liar. There is no way in hell you serve ice-cream.”
I laugh out loud. “You lied first.”
He laughs as his lips drop to my nipple and he takes it in his mouth. “Touché.” He smirks.
“What do you think I do?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes as he thinks. “Your body tells me you are a gym instructor, but your mind tells me you are a scientist?”
I smile as I bring his lips down to meet mine. “I got to go.” I sit up.
He frowns and leans up onto his elbow. “What? Where are you going?”
I stand up and his eyes drop down my body. “New York,” I answer.
He frowns again. “You are going home? Today?”
I nod as I walk around his room picking up my clothes. “Uh-huh.” I pick up my phone and check the time. “I fly out in three hours. I got to get a move on.”
His face drops. “But…”
I pick up my bra and put it on. “But what?”
“I wanted to see you again,” he replies as he watches me dress.
I smile and lean over the bed to kiss his gorgeous lips. “Hmm.” I smile into them. “Sorry. Bachelorette weekend is over.”
He leans up and grabs me and pulls me back on top of him. “Stay another night,” he breathes into my lips.
I smile. God, I wish. He kisses me again.
“I already have my plane ticket for today,” I breathe.
“I will buy you another plane ticket for tomorrow,” he offers.
For a brief moment, I do consider it.
“I am here until tomorrow,” he tells me. “We could spend another night together.” He smiles sexily.
Could I?
Who am I kidding? We don’t even know each other’s names and he just lied straight out and told me he was a mechanic, and besides, I’m totally out of money. I wouldn’t even be able to pay for my dinner tonight. Damn it. “Sorry, hubby.” I stand and put my black, lacy panties back on as he lays there watching me. “This is where our marriage ends.”