Chapter 8
Reid
Well, she didn’t shoot me down immediately. That’s encouraging.
No, she didn’t give me the answer I was hoping for. But I saw what I needed to. In her eyes.
She’s afraid to believe this is for real. But she wants to.
I’ll prove it to her. As many times as I have to.
After our picnic lunch on the shore, I am more certain than ever that we are meant to be together. I am literally walking on the fucking clouds as we ride back to the house in the limo, her little hand tucked in mine. When we get home, it’s back to reality. To make up and wardrobe and getting ready for the next scene. I don’t see her for hours. Every minute is fucking torture.
Finally, I’m called to set. They don’t want me to see her until the cameras are rolling. It isn’t hard to figure out why.
Hours after our sea-side lunch, I’m standing in the most romantic spot on the whole fucking planet, beneath a blanket of stars and a big, fat full moon. In an outdoor dining room that’s floating on the sea.
The water is calm. The wind gentle. The air fragrant.
My wife is a fucking angel.
I literally have to steady myself by grabbing the edge of the table when I finally see her.
She’s smiling, her cheeks stained a soft pink, her ivory skin glowing in the night. And if there are cameras around, which there were before she stepped onto the dock, well then I don’t give a fuck about them anymore.
Kate is here.
That’s all that matters.
“You take my breath away,” I tell her when she gets close. I pull her chair out and she sits, and I glance down. Her gown is strapless. And I want to kiss her neck, where it meets her shoulder.
I bend down and inhale as I press my lips to her sweet skin. She smells amazing. I inhale deeper, wanting to hold that scent in my memory forever.
She shivers ever so slightly, and I watch goose bumps erupt down her arm. She’s so responsive. I love that about her.
I love a lot of things about her. Which blows my mind.
If someone had told me I could fall in love in just a few days, I would have laughed my ass off. After all the women I’ve dated or fucked or just plain used, I’d figured I wasn’t capable of loving someone.
She’s changed me. Already.
And I like the changes. A lot. They’ve made me more human. More humane.
And happier. Much happier.
I want to make her happy in return.
I (stumble) walk around the table and take my seat across from her.
The camera lights make her eyes glimmer. And the gold highlights in her hair glisten. I lift my wine glass. “To our future.”
She lifts her glass and we drink to our future, which will be full of happy times and laughter and children. I will make sure of that.
She slips a bit of salad into her mouth and closes her eyes. “I have to give it to the cooks. The food has been delicious. If this is what you’re used to, I’m going to need to take some cooking classes.”
Yes! She’s talking about cooking! About the future! “Absolutely not. I don’t expect anything this elaborate at all.” I reach across the table, and her hand meets mine in the center. “When I said I want a simple life, I mean it, Kate.” With my free hand, I motion to the plates of artistically arranged food. “I will be just as happy eating oatmeal and noodles, happier if we make them together.”
She smiles and my heart literally stops. “I hope you mean that.”
“This is our honeymoon. I don’t expect to live like this forever.”
“Okay.” She takes another bite of salad. “But maybe I still want to take some cooking lessons. I can cook. But I like these flavors. At home we cooked with what we had. It was all fresh. And delicious. But also simple. Nothing like this.”
I watch her devour the rest of the food on her plate, loving the fact that she isn’t ashamed to eat. Especially on camera. The women I’ve dated would never demolish a meal like this. Ever. They picked and poked and yammered about their waistlines.
This woman is nothing like them. Nothing.
I want to know everything about her. Absolutely everything.
“Tell me more. What else do you want, besides a writing career?” I ask her.
“I want…what every girl wants, I suppose. I want a happy marriage. Children…someday.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want? Marriage. Children. Are you sure there isn’t more?”
“Like what?” She tips her head. She looks so fucking adorable when she does that.
“A career? A hobby. A passion. Besides the writing…is there anything else?”
“Like?”
“Art? Poetry? Music? Anything?”
“I have had very little exposure to those things. I was raised to see the utility of everything, not the aesthetics.”
“Many things can be both useful and beautiful.” I make a decision, there and then. “I’m going to show you. There’s so much you don’t know.”
Then, as if on que, music starts playing. I realize Merrick has hired a band to serenade us. It’s perfect. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. But, again, this is all to my benefit. I’ll use all his artifice to win this woman’s heart for real. Standing, I offer my hand. “Have you ever danced with a man?”
“Never.”
“Then I will have the fortune to be your first. Your only partner.” I lead her away from the dining table, to an empty area just big enough for us to dance. If we stand very close. I pull her into my arms and start swaying to the music. She follows my motions perfectly, as if she’s been dancing her whole life. “You’re a natural.”
“No, I just have a good teacher.”
Our gazes lock, and all the fucking oxygen in the atmosphere is sucked away. I can’t breathe. And my dick, holy hell, it’s harder than granite. My balls are throbbing, and I’ve barely touched her.
My hand slides up her back, up her slender neck. My fingers tangle in her silky hair, tonight a tumble of sexy curls, and I grip them in a fist, holding those silken strands hostage. I dip my head down and press my mouth to hers, and the world starts swooping and spinning out of control. I try to hold back. I know the cameras are rolling. But I can’t help myself. I deepen the kiss, pressing my tongue to the seam of her mouth until she parts those perfect, lush lips and lets me in.
She’s the sweetest, most delectable thing I’ve ever tasted. And I am fucking addicted. I devour her mouth. Like a fucking starving man. My body strains, muscles pulled so tight I think they might snap. My balls have never been so high or tight. They are killing me. And I think my pants might split in two.
Somehow I find the strength to break the kiss.
I have to stop. Now.
She looks up at me with her drowsy but desire-filled eyes and I just about die.
I. Need. Her.
Now.
“It’s time to go,” I grit out. I hook my arm around her waist and escort her down the dock, past the crew, which is still filming our every fucking move, and back toward shore.
It’s fucking time to go.
Back to the house.
Fuck the show.
Fuck them all.
I’m locking myself in the fucking bathroom. All night long.
Because if I don’t get far, far away from this woman right the fuck now, I’m going to rip off her clothes, throw her on the floor, and make slow, sweet love to her.
Over and over and over.
Until neither one of us can move.
Why shouldn’t I do that? We’re legally married.
I could.
I want to—damn, do I want to.
But I won’t.
No. I won’t.
Because I want it to be right. For her.
My Kate grew up in an extremely conservative Amish family. Hell, I don’t think she’d kissed a man before me. I’m not such a bastard that I want to push her too hard just to get my rocks off. She’s confused enough—marrying a man she doesn’t know, an English man as they say. Doing this fucking show. Leaving her friends and family.
She has already kissed me. She let me touch her breast. With her clothes on.
Even that has been difficult for her. I can see it.
I’ll wait.
My balls may explode by then because seeing her, hearing her, even smelling her makes my dick hard. But I’ll do the right thing. I’ll wait until she’s ready. Until she’s made her decision to stay with me.
The sooner she decides to remain my wife, the sooner we can start creating our life together.
And creating babies.
It better be soon. Really fucking soon.
For now I will run.
A lot.
Tonight. Tomorrow. Any time I’m not on set.
When we get back home, I change my clothes and set off. I run until I’m so beat I can barely take a step. Then, at almost midnight, I drag my tired ass inside the house. Of course, what do I do first as I make my way to the bathroom for a shower?
Look for Kate.
Where is she?
Her bedroom door is open. But she isn’t in there.
“You run a lot.”
She’s behind me.
I turn.
And almost forget my vow to wait to take her.
She’s wearing a pair of shorts, a snug tank top that lets me see her hard little nipples, and one of my button up dress shirts. A shirt has never looked so sexy. The tails skim her smooth thighs. “I’m sorry. I got cold.” She runs her hand down the shirt, caressing the smooth material. “And they didn’t give me any sweaters or jackets.” My gaze locks on that hand as it strokes back up, over a breast then combs through her hair, still a tumble of freshly-fucked waves. I want to grab the silky length in my fist and yank her to me. My fingers fold in, nails pricking my palms. “I didn’t realize you would be so late.”
“I…had to make up for this morning,” I lie. “I didn’t get my full workout in.”
“Sure. I understand.” She blinks and yawns.
The urge to sweep her into my arms and haul her to my bed rages through me.
“Go to bed,” I tell her. “Get some sleep.”
She doesn’t trot off to bed like an obedient little wife. Not right away. Her neatly-groomed brows furrow. “I’m not tired.” She spins around and takes a step toward the kitchen.
I place a hand on her arm to stop her. An electric arc buzzes between us and instantly I feel that invisible pull I felt before.
I need to touch her. I need her body pressed to mine.
She lifts her eyes. Her lips part.
Damn, she’s just asking for a kiss.
If I kiss her, I know I won’t stop.
But holy shit, those lips.
And she smells so damn good.
And that compact, curvy little body fits perfectly against mine.
My body angles toward hers as if invisible ropes pull us toward each other.
My heart starts thumping in my chest.
“Are you hungry? I…I made…” she whispers.
I don’t give a damn about food. What I want is standing in front of me, looking up at me with massive doe eyes.
She’s so close, and willing. I see it in her eyes. Her hard nipples. The way she’s angling toward me, begging me to take her. “Go to bed,” I repeat as I feel my control slipping. I’m about two seconds away from saying fuck it and throwing her on the floor. Doesn’t she see that?
Maybe she does. Maybe it makes her wet.
My dick twitches.
I lick my lips, remembering what she tastes like.
“I…” she visibly swallows. Her chest rises and falls quickly.
“Please,” I add.
She takes a single step back. The overwhelming connection is broken.
She’s safe. For now.
But if she comes close again, I won’t have the strength to fight my need. Not so soon. My dick is still hard, my balls throbbing and tight.
“G-goodnight,” she murmurs.
“Goodnight.”
I watch her go.
I love watching her walk. Her hips sway so seductively. And that firm, round ass is enough to make my knees buckle.
I’m the luckiest bastard in the world, to have this delightful creature as my wife. I vow to make sure she feels the same way about me. Always.