Rebel(43)
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.
“Just follow my lead, babe.” He takes my left hand in his right, puts his left hand at the small of my back, then leads me elegantly around the dance floor while I follow the best I can. He moves confidently, like he’s done this a million times, his strong arms nearly carrying me. “Dad insisted I learn this shit growing up. Never thought it’d actually come in handy.”
Gavin laughs while doing his best to make me look graceful. It’s like I’m floating when I’m in his arms, my head swimming and it’s not just from the alcohol. Twinkling stars spin above as he twirls me, the wrap floating around my thighs, and when he pulls me back in, I melt into him. I think I’m pretending, but honestly I can’t even tell anymore.
The first number ends, and after a round of applause that he receives gracefully and I receive by burying my face against his chest to hide my blush, the other partiers join in.
I try to head back to the table, but Gavin stops me with a tight grip on my arm. He shakes his head, a playful pout on his full lips. “Tell me you are not leaving me on the dance floor after only one dance. On our wedding night, no less.”
“I’m not much of a dancer.” Other than alone in my bedroom, I add silently. But he doesn’t need to know that.
He pulls me right back into his grip, holding me so close I can hear his heartbeat thundering in my ear. “Don’t care. Dance with me.” Then with one hand holding me close, and the other sliding down onto my ass, he leans into the crook of my neck and kisses it while we sway to the slow number the band is playing. For a second I tense, but something gives. Instead of pushing away, I press closer to him, even putting a soft kiss or two on his chest.