Graham
“Wake up, Baby.” The tip of my nose runs up her bare stomach to her collarbone, seducing her awake. Stalling on her neck to inhale the scent ingrained in my mind since high school does just the trick. This time though, it’s mixed with my cologne. Like an invisible stamp to say she belongs with me, and only me.
She doesn’t move. A plane could crash into the side of the hotel, and she wouldn’t budge.
“You smell like me.” My tongue swipes her earlobe, earning a sexy as hell moan.
“Graham.” She shifts under me, twisting her trim waist.
When she’s comfortable, I hold myself in a plank above her. “I like it. It wards off all other men.”
The warmth from her touch encompasses my cheek. “Baby, you being within fifty feet of me is enough to tell other men to back off.”
“Is that so?” I reach down and pinch at her sides.
When Kennedy has full control of her giggles, she gazes out the window. “This is perfect, being here”— her cheeks soften as she admires the view — “with you, the weight of the world is effortless to shoulder.”
“You okay, Baby?”
“Sometimes I don’t acknowledge how lucky I am. I’ve spent a lot of time dwelling on our past and getting locked in a heavy head space. I needed this. You, here, looking at me like you do.” Her hand circles the back of my neck and pulls me down to her. “I love you.”
We fall into a bundle of Egyptian cotton sheets and limbs. Her lips are something I will never bore of. Whenever we kiss and her tongue glides against mine, I get the sense she’s present with me. It’s been like that since our very first kiss. She doesn’t need anything else. She has me, and she makes that known by melting every part of her into me when we are together.
Kennedy nips at my thumb as it passes over the curve of her lip. Between us, I find her bare, and she clenches when my hand cups her, eager for my rough skin against her most sensitive spots.
“Show me what you need.” My eyelids slip shut. The way she feels wrapped around my fingers is intoxicating.
“I need you.” Her hot breath teases my shoulder. Her mouth grazes against my skin, and my erection grows as her teeth sink into me. “I want you everywhere.”
When Kennedy takes full control, I lose myself in her. The way she wraps her hand around my dick, rubbing me against her entrance, drives me to the brink.
My heart beats erratically in my chest. “You’ll kill a man if you keep doing that, Ken.”
Her body trembles against mine, and a single breath hitches. It’s a silent beg for me to slide into her, bow at her temple, and pray over her body with my own.
Knowing what Kennedy wants when she wants it has never been difficult. To each other, we are open books.
“Graham.” She rushes my name, eager and undeniably wound up.
“Yes, Baby?”
“Remember how you promised to always kiss me like it’s our last time?” I nod, and she sighs in relief, like I’ve taken all her worries away. “Think you could fuck me the same way?”
A slow, seductive grin stretches across her face, and I push forward, entering her.
She grips tight to the pillow under her head. That small gesture is clue enough to what she wants. Her hips buck again to urge me on. What she doesn’t know is I have full intentions of fucking her, just not until I’ve savored the warm velvet wrapped around my cock like the best damn present ever given to me.
“You going to stop acting like the boy taking my virginity anytime soon?” At her request, I quicken my pace, taking care not to lose complete control.
“Harder,” she demands.
“Do you want me to come before we even get started?” I bend down, kiss her neck, and guide my mouth to hers. Her lips are like poison, capable of rendering me useless. One of her hands wraps around the side of my cheek, rustling the hair above my ear.
Her beneath me, writhing and wrestling to find her release, is like watching a painter create a masterpiece. There’s a guilt for watching like I’ll interrupt the process, but I can’t keep my eyes off the colors and strokes.
When my initial hunger is satisfied, I slip out of her and toss her onto her stomach. Her perfectly plump ass is on full display. I smack the tight skin, and she gazes over her shoulder. The pink of her cheeks screams innocence, but we both know she’s anything but. Kennedy is a temptress, and she knows exactly what to do to bind me tight.
I smack her right cheek, and she rears up from the bed, perfectly timed for me to plunge back inside of her heat. I fall forward, catching myself before my entire weight lays against her back. My fingers entwine with hers, and I glide out of her, diving deeper in when I thrust my hips to meet her body.
“Holy shit.” She releases a hot breath into the pillow.
We fall into the high our bodies create. The remainder of the world waits for us. Nothing can cause us to break away from each other. She arches her back, practically sitting fully up, giving me no choice but to follow her silent command. I adjust her legs, not to lose the warmth around my cock, and slide in and out of her. My hands drift up her hips, around to her stomach to land on her perky tits. She has the right amount to fill my grasp. She’s teetering on the edge, clenching around me. I pinch each of her nipples with a gentleness I didn’t know I possess when I’m balls deep in my wife.
“Fuck,” I say, brushing her hair to one side and kissing her neck until I gain my own release.
We both fall to the mattress. Kennedy tugs the sheets over her, and I yank them back down to her feet.
“What are you doing?” Her lazy smile says she’s perfectly fucked. I did that to her, the wild hair, and the hot, exhausted breaths.
“I want to look at you.” I kiss down her arm, pausing on her hip before switching to the other and repeating the same dance up her opposite side. “You’re so damn beautiful. I could look at you forever.”
“I have faith you could, too.” She wiggles, her breasts bouncing with her. She really is perfect.
“I’m undeniably in love with you. I’m also undeniably obsessed with your body.” I run my palms up and down her bare hips. “Your skin is so soft. I can only imagine what you’ll look like carrying my child.” At one point in my life, I’d have cringed to say something so honest. As years pass, I no longer care how corny I sound.
“Your soul is pure,” she says. A sad smile forces its way out, and she blinks back tears. “Sometimes I don’t think you know it. You don’t see yourself the way the rest of us do. You are the reason why I have faith in humanity. You love harder than anyone I know, Graham Black, and damn if I don’t question why you can’t see the guy staring back at you every morning in the mirror.”
“I’m no saint.” For her, I’ll always try.
“No shit, you aren’t. You think I want to walk through life with someone who spews perfection?” She laughs. “No, I wouldn’t, and do you know why?”
“Why?” I ask, tucking the hair behind her ear. She leans into my touch, looking every bit a goddess.
“There’s no fun to be had with a man who does everything you expect. You’ve always kept me on my toes, and I suspect you’ll continue to do exactly that for the rest of our lives. I love the adventure you are.”
I fall to the mattress beside her. “Words are my love language.”
Kennedy explodes into a full-blown fit of laughter. Pastor Gregory talked to us about the fundamental ways to make marriages work. I didn’t need a book to tell me how to love Kennedy, but I promised to read some love guru bullshit guide. Turns out, I had some things to learn about myself.
I couldn’t be honest with myself about what I needed out of our marriage. I’m not an idiot. Being married is a completely different ball game than dating. Once Kennedy and I said, “I do,” the first time, a shift happened in the Earth. The world aligned itself to prepare for us.
“You read the book?” She turns her head to look at me, her laughter now gone, and in its place is my sexy, relaxed wife.
“Don’t make me sound like a pussy, okay?” I lick my lips, a small laugh escaping. “No one will believe you anyway.”
“Sorry, continue what you were saying.” She drapes her legs over my lap, plastering herself to my side.
“So much has changed for us. I’ve changed, and I don’t know why, but we’re constantly reminding each other of our love. You love it when I do small things for you. That’s how you’re certain of my love.”
“I do.”
“Every once in a while, I need to be reminded I’m not letting you down. I have a constant fear of failing you in some way, Kennedy, because I’ve failed you before.” Admitting that has always been my biggest struggle. I’ve apologized and meant those words, but to truly understand the things I’ve done in the past has been a hard pill to swallow. I’m not that guy anymore.
“You could never fail me, Graham.” She kisses me swiftly on the lips. “Your love language is affirmations. You didn’t have to read the book for me to know that. I’ve always known it.”
I lift the covers.
“What are you doing?” Kennedy asks.
“Just checking to make sure I didn’t sprout a massive vagina.” I drop the soft white sheet.
Kennedy props herself up on my chest, circling her fingers over my skin. “You know, there’s nothing sexier than a man willing to be vulnerable in front of his woman.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, Mr. Black.” She pulls up to straddle my bare lap. Not so little Mr. Black perks right the fuck up.
“Ohhh boy, I wish I could roll around naked in this bed all day, but”— she pats my chest and jumps off— “but we have things to do.”
I roll in the direction she escapes. “Look out the window. You saw the Eiffel Tower. What else is there to see except your vantage point on every surface in this hotel room while I fuck you silly?”
“Fuck me silly, huh?” She prances back over to me. I stand, wrapping the sheet around my waist before tugging her close. “I’ll let you fuck me silly in the shower, how about that? And then we’re seeing everything else.”
“Fine.” I humph as she walks away.
She turns her neck to the side, barely looking over her shoulder. “Or better yet, I’ll fuck myself silly in the shower.”
Fuck yes, she will. I offer myself a mental high five for tearing down her walls years ago. There is nothing sexier than watching her lose control with herself. Being vulnerable is hot as hell.
Kennedy twists fully around on her tippy toes and brushes her lips against my ear. “Alone.” She smirks. “Without an audience.”
The door slams in my face. I’m quick on the trigger and twist the door handle. The thing doesn’t budge. I pound my forehead against the dark wood separating me from my gorgeous wife.
“Kennedy, it’s locked,” I say, knowing she is fully aware and playing games with me.
“You’re more than welcome to sit outside the door and listen.”
Kennedy is never too shy to be vocal with me. She tells me what she wants, when she wants it. I slip to the floor and rest my back against the door. The water hits the tiled shower, steam quickly curling through the gap under the door.
It’s hot in there. Droplets of dew are getting acquainted with every perfect curve of her naked body. Fucking A!
“Uhhh....”
Is that a fucking moan? I clench my fists, drumming them on the carpet, trying to decide if it’s worth the bill to bust down the door to get to her.
“Ohhh.”
“Christ!” I stand, pulling the sheet tight on my waist as if the pressure could stop cum from making a surprise visit to the hotel floor.
“Kennedy,” I roar. Never in my life have I ever sounded so damn desperate. I’m a thirteen-year-old, eager to play Seven Minutes in Heaven at his first girl/boy party, bouncing my heels and adjusting my dick to hide the evidence.
“Yes, Baby?” Even through the door, I can hear her satisfaction.
“You trying to kill your husband on your honeymoon?” I pound my fist on the door once, holding onto the top of the frame. It swings open, steam rushing out to meet the cool air of the room. Kennedy’s stare bounces over my entire body, inspecting every last ripple and dip. She licks her lips. The movement slows when they land on my obvious approval of her escapades.
“Do you need to shower? I’m done.” She chuckles, pointing over her shoulder. I push up on her and force her body back into the bathroom.
I lift her onto the double sink. Her legs fall open for me to snuggle between them. Instantly, her warmth and arousal from her solo session wraps around me, and I drop the sheet to the marble floor.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I say, laying a kiss on her lips and stepping back when she places a little pressure behind it.
“I just didn’t think you’d have enough energy to go again.” She’s smart enough to clasp her lips tightly together.
“I always have enough energy to bury myself inside of you.”
“So, what are you waiting for?”
I step back and laugh at her wide eyes. “Now, go ahead and get ready. We have a big day ahead of us.”
“What are you doing?” Kennedy’s wet feet hit the marble floor, and she stomps behind me into the room. Every curve, every inch of her begging me to devour her with my mouth.
I slip on jeans and slide the zipper, careful not to snag my bare cock, and toss on a polo. “I have a few more things up my sleeve.” I flick my fingers towards the bathroom, pleased with bossing her beautiful ass around. “Go get ready, Baby.”
*****
“Now we just sit here and wait?” Kennedy being skeptical and unsure is adorable. She twirls her finger around the string attached to the pink balloon floating above us.
“You look ridiculous by the way.” Seeing her smile never gets old.
“Would you like to hold it?” She offers it, but I press my hands to stop the hand off. “You’re the one who had to have this pizza, so it feels only right for you to do it.”
“How could I pass up the opportunity?”
It’s almost eight, and after the afternoon we’ve spent together, a slowdown is in order. The hotel concierge suggested The Pink Flamingo. After we ordered a pizza, they gave Kennedy a silly pink balloon so they could spot us in a crowd. The man making our pizza all but demanded we sit by the canal, and I now understand why.
The place is buzzing with life. People laugh and chat while enjoying small picnics along the water. While everyone takes in the massive, historical buildings, my eyes aren’t capable of dropping away from my wife. As if she can feel my stare, she shifts to face me, a beaming smile on her face.
“What?” Her chin dips, and she shyly tucks herself away. I run the back of my finger over her cheek. “Stop.”
“Are you blushing?” A thrill is present, knowing I’m still capable of bringing out a young, carefree feeling in her.
“Will you stop teasing me?”
“You don’t find it at all amusing that you teased and tortured me this morning, but your cheeks turn that cute shade of pink from me just looking at you?” I lean back, resting on my hands. Nothing makes me happier than watching Kennedy flustered. The way she can’t seem to get comfortable and fidgets with her clothes, or how she won’t stop messing with the string of the pink balloon. All of them are ways of distracting herself.
“You look at me, and every thought dissolves from my mind. You can see right through me, and it’s unfair to feel so exposed all the time.”
“You don’t think you do the same to me? Because, Baby, I can barely pass through a room without you knowing exactly what’s going through my mind.”
Being with Kennedy, even in the beginning, has been daunting for this reason alone. How did I find someone who levels me to my rawest form? She does that to me, always has, and I’ve often wondered if it’s a blessing or a curse, or if understanding a person to the bottom of their soul would end up being too much.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, though.” Kennedy shifts until she’s tucked into my side. Our legs dangle over the cement wall as the water slowly glides past us.
Being here, together, is the most relaxing part of our honeymoon so far, and my most favorite. We live in a world where we constantly feel the need to be entertained or satisfied. Sometimes we forget doing nothing can be just as romantic and significant. I bow my head, tucking my nose into her hair, and inhale. Doing nothing with this woman has always been my saving grace. She slows me down, makes me appreciate the small things in life.
A man on a bicycle swerves up beside us, holding a pink box. Kennedy perks up, eager to take the pizza from him. Before I even say thank you, she’s digging in, nodding her head in satisfaction.
“Mmmm.” Her eyes flutter shut as she devours her first bite. They open, and she holds up the pizza, offering me a bite, which I’m happy to take.
The warm crust, the real mozzarella, and basil is delicious together.
“I can’t believe you actually took me to the Catacombs.” Kennedy sets down her slice, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
“When will we see six million skulls in one place ever again?” I shrug, popping the last bite of my slice into my mouth.
“You’re such a tourist, and then, not to mention the cemetery.”
“You aren’t a normal girl, Ken. I could’ve done some really cheesy romantic things. Trust me, Robert tried to convince me to change my plans right up until seconds before we left.” I love the way she leans into my touch when I tuck her hair behind her ear.
“Yes, because a girl never wants anything romantic when she’s in Paris.” She bites her tongue, knowing I won’t fall for her act.
“You loved the cemetery, so don’t try to be all girly on me now.” I grab another slice and pick at the crust, looking up at her through my eyelashes.
“Women are made to be loved, not understood,” Kennedy quotes Oscar Wilde.
“See! I knew you loved the cemetery.” I aim the slice of pizza at her mouth, and she playfully bites off the end. She’d spent an extra amount of time in front of his gravestone.
“I mean it was pretty cool. I saw the Eiffel Tower. That’s enough romantic landmarks for me.” She leans forward, her intentions a quick kiss, but I cup the back of her neck and pull her flush against me. Her ass shimmies onto my lap, and we make out. She makes me feel like a sixteen-year-old boy with raging hormones.
“Excuse me?” At the soft voice, Kennedy and I slowly cool down and back off each other. We stare at a short, middle-aged man who is standing directly in front of us. “I don’t mean to interrupt.” His accent is thick, but his English is strong. With his pink cheeks, I can tell he’s embarrassed by stopping two strangers in the middle of a serious kiss.
“No, you’re fine.” Kennedy waves off his concern, and we stand. “Can we help you with something?”
“Actually, I think I can help you. I’m Enzo.” He offers his hand to each of us, and we happily shake it.
“This is Kennedy, and I’m Graham,” I explain.
“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiles kindly. “You must be on your honeymoon?”
Kennedy giggles. “How’d you guess?”
“May I take your picture?” He offers, nodding his head, his hand held out, waiting for us to give him our phone.
I take it from my front pocket and open the camera before offering it to him. He holds it up in front of his face, taking time and care to make sure the background is perfect. He’s a meticulous man, obviously, because he takes more than one. When he hands the phone back, Kennedy stands on her toes to see the shot he got.
“Oh my gosh.” She gasps. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“I remember my honeymoon to my sweet Delores. I don’t think we had one picture taken, and it’s my greatest regret. It would be nice to look at them now.”
“How long have you been married?” Kennedy bounces on the balls of her feet, always happy to listen to a romantic story.
“We were married for a short five years before she was taken from me.” The man is doing his best to keep his emotions together. Maybe to save us from feeling uncomfortable, but he doesn’t know my Kennedy.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Kennedy’s hand covers her heart. Not one ounce of her isn’t compassionate. One of her greatest assets is her heaviest burden to bear.
“It taught me how short life can be, and seeing the two of you, in the middle of this busy canal, fully embracing each other, made me think of the way we were. Be sure to capture as many moments as you can.” We shake hands, and as fast as he entered our lives, he exits.
Kennedy and I stand together, our arms wrapped around each other. The air is cooling as the sun is preparing to set, but the atmosphere around the canal is still excitedly happy. I glance down to see Kennedy biting the inside of her cheek, a million thoughts racing through her pretty head, and if I could place a wager, I’d guess none of them are circled around her.
Bing. Bing. Bing.
We’ve been in and out of cell service the entire time in Paris, so the sound surprises me. I open the messages and see I have a missed voicemail. While Kennedy busies herself with cleaning up our spot, I tap the screen and lift the phone to my ear.
“Graham, I don’t know...”
I hold the phone out, checking the screen. This damn service here. My mom’s voice is muffled.
“He’s being released.”
Those are the last words I hear when I place the phone against my ear again, and then her message cuts out. My fingers go numb, and the phone clatters on the ground.
When my hand lands on Kennedy’s shoulder, she glances up at me. I can’t imagine what she sees staring back at her, but I do know what I feel. Overwhelmed. Angry. Disappointed.
She stands to her full height, grabbing my limp hands. “Is everything okay?” Her voice cracks, and she swallows, trying to keep her composure.
“We need to go home. Now. He’s being released from prison.”
Kennedy shakes her head, tears beginning to form, understanding the worry in my voice. She doesn’t ask any of the questions that I know will be sure to follow. She walks with an urgency at my side, her hand in mine, and we both prepare ourselves for what it all means.
How can this be happening?