He grins and chuckles. “I'll break you first. Stop fucking around, woman. I know you want the entire package, and I'm the best one you'll ever have.”
I can't help it anymore. The way his palm keeps pressing into mine, wiggling the hot, circular metal against our skin, like he's previewing the rest of my life.
“Okay – yes! Yes, Chris. I'm ready to be Mrs. Cleveland.”#p#分页标题#e#
There. I said it. I'm suddenly wishing for an icy breeze to blow in from the Pacific, something to keep me from feeling like I'm about to melt through the ground.
Chris goes nuts. He grabs me by the wrist, stretches my hand out, and pushes the ring on my finger. It's a good fit. The right fit.
I have about two seconds to admire the strange new wonder on my hand before he picks me up and flings me around, tossing me high before he pulls me back to him. I crash into his arms and land with a kiss.
His teeth sink into my bottom lip, hungrier than ever. My hands dig at his shoulders, desperate to get naked, famished to feel the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life devouring me.
It's a long, cold make out session on the beach. Probably the last time we'll visit this place before the sun shines warm and high again.
But with him, there's always a spark, always a fire. I start crying when the realization hits me that we're going to be enjoying it for the rest of our lives.
Seven Months Later
Our next trip to Vegas begins in a whirlwind. It's a quick, luxurious wedding, a fusion of my dad's wealth and Chris' military honor that's so magical it's almost surreal.
I meet everyone in his SEAL team, plus several other guys he goes back years with. He meets my entire extended family, including my ice cold mother.
She's easy to handle after Evie. Nothing's going to ruin what's coming. Mom also spends half the wedding glaring at my dad, seething quietly at how happy he looks with the lively new redhead on his arm.
Jenny is the complete opposite of Evie, a bubbly anthropology professor with a good heart and a dash of her own special awkwardness that melds with dad's just perfectly. I smile when I watch them, wondering if Chris and I will be just as cute someday when we're older.
Then the pleasantries vanish. Next thing I know, dad's leading me down the aisle, and I think he's tearing up just as much as me.
My knees don't start shaking until Chris grabs my hands at the altar. He never takes his eyes off me – not for a single second – while the minister rattles off lip service to the heavens to appease our older relatives.
Good thing they don't have a clue we shacked up from our parents' failed marriage. Their arrangement was mercifully brief, and nobody's connected the dots.
It's our dirty little secret, and it makes us one of a kind. He's being so well behaved, standing there in his full dress uniform, a few new medals lining his breast.
God, he looks princely, and I should be ashamed for soaking the fancy new lace panties I'm wearing underneath my gown. I mentally count the seconds, trying to listen to everything the wiry old man next to us says, talking about our vows.
I don't need a reminder. I'm going to love and serve this man until the day and I die, and I know he'll do the same for me. Mostly, I can't wait to feel him carry me to our room later, lay me on the bed, and give me everything my body's been aching for the last three months.
Kiss the bride.
I hear him say it and look up, darting away from Chris. Big mistake. The SEAL pulls me in with the same rough precision that always makes me gasp. His hands pinch around my waist and he rips my veil back, twining his tongue with mine, the way he does before he rips my clothes off and sinks into me.
But we can't do that here. Not yet.
Sweet Jesus. I don't know how I'm going to survive an entire evening of being teased at the dinner reception. Maybe dancing with him for the first time since our disastrous summer party will help...or else make me wish there's another wine cellar for us to sneak away to.
People are still clapping and cheering by the time he breaks the kiss. I can tell he doesn't want to, feeling the same lava in his pulse each time his tongue brushes mine, sucking me deeper.#p#分页标题#e#
“You'd better keep that pussy good and wet for me, babe. I want you soaked 'til I get your legs apart,” he growls, brushing his stubble over my cheek. “We're going to have a helluva time walking this town tomorrow after I'm through with you tonight.”
Shit. My pussy tingles so sharp and hot I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples.
My new husband takes me by the hand and leads me out, past the screaming throngs, and into the limo downstairs. We cruise down the Vegas strip with me perched on his lap, dangerously close to the cock I want inside me so bad.
Every time I brush my hand against him, he takes my wrist and stops me, shooting me a devilish look.