American Queen
“Am I going to be belted in order to earn my slice of cake?”
A small smile but he doesn’t take the bait. “Say it so I know that you have it close. That you know it’s yours to use for any limit. Any limit.”
I look down to where his fingers are playing with my ring. “Maxen.”
“Good.” He leans down to kiss the ring, letting his lips linger at the junction of metal and flesh. “Tonight’s our wedding night, Greer.”
“I know,” I sigh. “Can’t we just leave these people and start it now?”
He hesitates, his lips still on my hand.
“What is it? Were you planning on doing something extreme tonight? I’ll try it. You know I’ll try anything you ask me to.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. You have to agree to this because you want it, not just because you think I want it.”
He straightens and takes a deep breath. “I want Embry to join us tonight.”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer, actually, because I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“Today was perfect,” he says in a low voice. “Listening to you on the phone while he touched you was…electrifying. And marrying you, Greer, saying those words to you was the happiest moment of my life. Today feels like magic—tonight feels like magic—and I want more of it. I want us, all three of us, to feel it together. If today was about the two of us making vows, then tonight should be about the three of us taking the next step together.”
I finally find my voice. It’s dry, threatening to crack. “And what’s the next step?”
“I don’t know,” he says, giving me a smile so beautiful it breaks my heart. “But I’m ready to find out.”
The evening passes in a blur. We dance, my grandfather cries, Abilene flirts. There are too many senators and heads of state and businesspeople and celebrities to keep straight, and it’s impossible to keep track of time or the number of people who wish us congratulations. When I glance at Ash’s watch, I’m shocked to see it’s past eleven p.m.
“It’s late,” I say to Ash, squeezing his hand.
He squeezes back. “I’m having a hard time being patient too. Just a little while longer, angel.”
I don’t want to wait any while longer, little or not, and I can’t shake the strange fear that Embry isn’t alone right now. That he found someone to spend the night with, some other warm body to bury his pain in, not knowing that Ash and I are here feeling desperate for him. Not knowing that we’re going to find him.
When I mention this fear to Ash, he nods like the thought hurts him too, but then says, “Would you blame him for that?”
“It makes my blood boil.”
“Mine too. But then we could go back to our room and fuck until we felt better. Don’t you think he deserves the same thing?”
“He said something similar to me in Geneva.”
“And?”
I lift my chin. “Just because it’s fair doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“I don’t know what there is to like about any of this sometimes. That doesn’t mean it’s not necessary.”
Eight months ago, my only necessary things were bourbon and research. When did my life get so complicated?
Finally, Ash waves Belvedere over, who passes word to the wedding planner that we’re ready to leave. The party is still in full swing, the band having packed up and a DJ having come in, and any other time, I would have wanted to stay. But tonight, Ash’s bed waits for me.
And maybe Embry will be in that bed too.
Ash and I hold hands and leave the pavilion as people line up and wave sparklers, glittering fire spitting and dancing around us, hissing down into the soft green grass below. We wave, kisses are blown, and then we’re packed into the Beast, the black Cadillac designed specifically for the President.
My dress surrounds us in clouds of silk and tulle, and Ash is laughing as we try to smash it down so Luc can close the door. The door closes and then I’m being dragged into Ash’s lap, tulle and all, and we’re surrounded by walls of wedding dress.
“We’re supposed to wave goodbye through the window,” I whisper, although I like the sudden, if ridiculous, privacy we have right now.
Ash groans but nevertheless wrestles the gown out of the way so that we can wave some more as we pull away and drive towards our hotel. The minute we’re away from the crowd, Ash lets the dress swallow us again.
“This reminds me of playing with a parachute in kindergarten,” he says, glancing at the fabric.
“A parachute?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Did you not do that at your fancy boarding schools? Is my plebeian public school background showing?”
“I went to a Montessori school outside of Portland. We used parachutes more than most kids use pencils. But we sat underneath them rather than drag them inside a Cadillac.”
Those dark eyebrows slant together as I get a wicked smile. “I’m happy to sit underneath your skirt, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I’m sideways on his lap, with my legs slung over the large wooden hump in the middle of the seat that houses Ash’s communications systems, and he takes advantage of my position, reaching for my legs under my dress and then following the lines of my stockings until he reaches my bare cunt.
“You never put on more panties?” he asks huskily. “Your pussy was bare this whole time?”