7

Dash

“Here we are.”

I push the door to the hotel room open with my back, setting Janine down as soon as we cross the threshold.

She straightens the front of her pale pink dress. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“But it’s what newlyweds do,” I answer, tossing the keycard on the table before hauling our suitcases in. “And we, my dear, are newlyweds. We should act the part.”

She sighs, sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed and then lying down, her arms outstretched while staring at the ceiling.

“I’m just glad I’m out of that wedding gown and away from all those strangers with their cameras and their smiles.”

I park the suitcases beside the closet, looking at her.

I know that was tough on her. When I saw her in the bridal room, I could see in her eyes that she was ready to give up and, for a moment there, while I was standing at the altar, I was afraid she wasn’t going to appear.

But she did, breathtakingly beautiful and radiant. She walked down the aisle with a smile, eyes on me, said all she needed to say during the ceremony and charmed everyone at the reception. She did all that even though I know she was shaking in her shoes, convincing everyone that she was a bride. Even me.

I sit beside her, holding her hand. “You did well.”

“I’m exhausted,” she answers, still gazing at the ceiling. “What time is our flight tomorrow?”

“Our flight to Tokyo is at ten.”

I get off the bed, walking towards the window with my hands in my pockets, gazing at the airport next door.

“We can go there at nine.”

Janine glances at her watch. Then she sits up.

“I’m too tired to sleep. I think I’ll go downstairs to the lounge and grab a drink. I didn’t really get one at our reception.”

“Great idea.” I grab the hotel keycard. “I’ll join you.”

* * *

“You didn’t have to join me.”

Janine takes another sip from her glass of margarita, her other arm folded across her belly as she sits back in her leather chair.

I take a sip from my own glass of Scotch, staring at her across the table over the vase of roses and the candles.

“Why not? This is actually nice.”

It’s a weeknight so the lounge is nearly empty; the bartender looking bored behind the shiny bar counter. It’s dark, too, the light spilling out from just a few carefully placed lamps on the walls and tables, and quiet except for low chatter and the music from the black piano in the corner, mostly blues.

It should be the perfect place for unwinding after the most hectic of days, but Janine won’t even look at me. Her doleful eyes roam the entire lounge, but they don’t touch me.

I set down my glass. “You don’t have to look so unhappy that I decided to accompany you.”

“I’m not. It’s just…” She takes a deep breath as she crosses her legs. “You can drop the act, you know? No one’s here.”

“You’re here,” I remind her, leaning back in my chair.

Janine rolls her eyes. “We both know you’re not doing any of this for me.”

I put my hands in my pockets. “You’re only here because of your mother.”

She falls silent and the moment I see her eyebrows furrow in the middle and the corners of her lips turn down in a scowl, I regret my words, washing down the bitterness they’ve left on my tongue with more Scotch. I shouldn’t have said that, even in defense of myself, even if I’m right. It just hurt her to be reminded.

Now she’s in an even worse mood, ordering another margarita. What I don’t understand is why she was even in a bad mood in the first place. Was it something I said or did?

Whatever the reason, this isn’t the way to start off a marriage, fake or otherwise.

Grabbing my glass, I get out of my chair, occupying another one on the other side of the table, closer to her.

“Hey. I’m sorry your mother wasn’t able to attend.”

She shakes her head, running her fingers over her new glass. “She wouldn’t have enjoyed it any more than I did.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” I lean forward on my knees. “How is she doing?”

“Oh, you know.” She uncrosses her legs, her dress rustling. “You’ve seen her.”

Yes, I have. I know she doesn’t look good. But I’m not going to tell Janine that. I stay silent, forcing more of the bronze liquid in my glass down my throat.

“Your father…did he…suffer before he died?”

I straighten up, shrugging. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there and I wasn’t exactly privy to what was going on in his life.” I stare at the nearly empty glass in my hands. “In fact, he didn’t speak to me once after I joined the military.”

I finish the contents of my glass with a final gulp. “I’m sorry.”

I feel Janine’s hand on my arm and as I look at her, I find that her expression has changed, the annoyance in her eyes gone and replaced with heartfelt sympathy, the kind only someone who is losing a parent can offer someone who’s lost one.

I set my empty glass down. “Shall we dance?”

I’m not sure why I think of it. Maybe I just want to change the somber mood. Maybe I want to feel her closer so that I can be comforted by her presence and offer her some of my own. Whatever the reason, I offer her my hand.

Janine looks at me with wide eyes but takes my hand. I pull her to the middle of the room then pull her close to me, letting her hand rest on my shoulder as I wrap my arm around her.

We move slowly, silently, our feet shifting every now and then as our bodies sway to the music.

This isn’t the first time. We danced earlier at our wedding reception in front of that huge crowd. This, however, feels more intimate, more real. I close my eyes and cherish the pressure of her fingers on my chest. I lower my chin slightly and inhale the botanical aroma of her hair.

This may as well be our first dance.

I open my eyes and hunt for her gaze, but she avoids making contact. Then her amber eyes flick to mine and I hold them there, drowning in those pools of molten gold.

The other people are gone now, the lounge a dark, empty room. All I can see is her. All I feel is her, her hand on my shoulder, warm breath against my skin, her breasts brushing against my chest, the tips of her hair dancing across my arm.

Our faces are mere inches away now, our lips hovering, hers slightly parted as if she wants to say something, yet no words come out.

I pull her closer, our cheeks touching, the smell of her perfume drifting into my nostrils. I can hear her breathing. I can feel her heartbeat.

There is no need for words now, our bodies communicating as we move as one.

I close my eyes and the music plays on.

* * *

I stare at the ceiling as I lie on the bed in my boxers, the covers pulled up to my bare chest. It’s past midnight and the hotel room is quiet and dark—except for the sound of shower water drumming down on tile, except for that tantalizing little thread of light escaping through the crack beneath the door.

I place my hand over my eyes, sighing. It’s been a long time since a woman got me twisted like this.

I wonder what she’s doing in there.

Damn, I know I should be sleeping. I’m sure Janine will climb into bed and fall immediately to sleep when she gets out of the bathroom. She’s going to be in pajamas and wish me goodnight and turn her back, curling up on her side of the mattress.

But I can’t shake off the memory of that dance in the lounge or the feel of Janine’s body against mine, soft and fragrant and every curve perfectly molded against me…

I shake my head.

I can’t keep thinking like that. If I do, I’ll end up wanting more. And I can’t want more. Janine and I may be newly- weds, but our wedding is still a business deal. I already told her sex wasn’t going to be part of her… duties.

But I kind of wish it was now.

Don’t be an asshole, I chastise myself. She’s a modern, red-blooded woman. Not some harem girl…

Then the bathroom door opens, spilling light and steam and the smell of soap into the hotel room.

Janine emerges in a midnight blue negligee, the fabric so thin I can see her black panties beneath it. I can see the sweet halo of her nipples.

My arm falls to my side, my eyes growing wide as I lift my head off the pillow to look at her. And that’s not the only head that’s up and piqued with interest. A tent forms beneath the thick covers.

Fuck. “Like it?”

Janine gives a whirl, the hem of the negligee lifting to give me a clearer glimpse of her panties—and the high crescent of her perky ass.

“Y-yeah.” I swallow the lump in my throat. The lump in my boxers won’t go away, though.

Janine traipses to the foot of the bed and climbs onto the mattress on her hands and knees, like a cat stalking and about to pounce. God I’ve got something she can pounce on. “Maybe I’ll just take it off,” she suggests in a sultry, steady voice.

Before I can answer, Janine grips the tiny bow at the front of her negligee and pulls it open. The sheer fabric falls away like curtains opening and her firm, round breasts come into view.

My mouth gapes, watering.

Janine trails one hand down her slim center, then shrugs off the negligee completely, now wearing nothing but black panties. She flicks the negligee over the side of the bed and creeps toward me.

After straddling my thighs, she peels the blankets down and crawls on top of me. When her face is hovering over mine, she stops, biting her lower lip as her eyes gleam with mischief.

She could just be drunk. Then again, she was drunk the first time we had sex and that went pretty well.

“You don’t have to do this,” I remind her, even though my better judgment is yelling at me to shut up.

“I know,” Janine tells me, stroking my cheek.

Then she kisses me, tenderly at first, then with enough force to send my head crashing back into the pillow.

She cups my face, her arms resting on my chest and her hair forming a veil around me as she pins my head against the pillow, her tongue slipping into my mouth.

I close my eyes and kiss her back, lifting my hands and getting my fingers tangled in her hair. As our tongues move back and forth, the taste of the Scotch, margarita, and tooth- paste all mingling, her hands move down to my chest, her fingers circling my nipples and then covering them with her palms as her hands splay against my hardened pectorals.

In turn, I run my hands across her back, tracing the soft curve of her spine. Then I grab her ass, giving each firm cheek a good squeeze.

She moans into my mouth then pulls away to gasp for air.

“I’ve missed this,” she confesses in a breathless whisper as she pulls some of her hair back.

“Me too,” I manage to sneak in before her mouth begins its renewed assault.

I have missed this, this kissing, this feel of her perfect body against mine.

No, this is better. Janine is more skilled now. Bolder. It makes me wonder who she’s been with since I left.

Possessed by an unexpected surge of jealousy and a sudden need to let Janine know who she belongs to, my body springs into action. My hands grip her thighs and pull her down on my monster erection, which I grind against her.

She breaks the kiss, gasping. That’s better.

In one swift move, I push her over and climb on top of her, our positions reversed. At first, she gives me a look of surprise. Then she giggles.

I grab her chin and kiss her, taking control. Her fingers dance on my back, tracing the muscles and scars there. Mine find her nipples, rubbing them.

She shudders and that reaction sends my cock quivering, already yearning for release. I ignore it but Janine doesn’t. Her palm presses against the bulge in my boxers.

I kiss her harder, slipping my hand inside her panties and finding the sensitive nub hidden there. Her hips rise off the bed, her hand going still as she moans into my mouth.

I continue stroking that nub as my tongue strokes hers; then I move my fingers lower, gathering the liquid that has leaked out on my fingertips before dipping one finger into the source.

Her hands clutch my arms, nails biting my skin.

I slide another finger into that delicious heat, stretching her, then begin moving my fingers in and out, a motion that has my cock straining against my boxers, eager to take over the task.

For a moment, Janine continues clinging to me, melting around my fingers and powerless to do anything else. Then one of her hands lets go, slipping between us and past that hole in my boxers.

As her fingers brush against my cock, I stiffen. When she grasps me and pulls my dick from its confines, I shudder in anticipation.

I keep stroking her as she strokes me, our moans mingling as our sexes leak and our bodies become covered in sweat, the smell of our desire heavy in the air.

“More,” Janine says as she tears her mouth from mine, her thumb running over the tip of my cock.

I draw in a deep breath. “Yes, ma’am.”

I pull my fingers out so I can take off her panties and she chuckles.

“You’re still good at following my orders.”

“You’re still good at giving them,” I tell her, tossing her panties aside before taking off my boxers.

Now there’s nothing in the way.

I settle between her legs, nudging her sex with the tip of my cock. “Is this what you want?”

Janine grabs my hips and lifts hers against me. “Ever since freshman year,” she breathes.

I grip her thighs, entering her with one thrust. Her hands cling to my arms. “God, yes!”

I pause to catch my breath and to gaze at her, her face flushed, her hair a mess around her and her eyes squeezed shut.

I kiss her as I start moving inside her, savoring the incredible tightness and heat around me, then release her mouth before I speed up. I bend her in half, her hands falling to her sides and grabbing fistfuls of the sheets as I speed up, pounding into her.

“Dash!” Janine cries out my name as she throws her head back, her body trembling. She tightens around me.

I manage a few more thrusts before closing my eyes and letting the heat from her body engulf me. I go taut, shuddering and grunting as I empty myself deep inside her.

I collapse on top of Janine, my hand buried in her hair as I force air into my lungs, waiting for my breathing to slow down.

When it does, I move off her to find that she’s already drifting off to sleep, moaning as she turns on her side. I plant a kiss in her hair, pull the covers over her and lie down, closing my eyes. Now sleep comes easily.