Cara

Jet lag is a bitch. I’m wide awake and it’s four in the morning.

“Come back to bed,” Toby mumbles, circling my wrist with his fingers.

“I think I’ve slept as much as I can,” I murmur, letting him tug me close anyway. I don’t know how he does this regularly.

“Then I should do something to exhaust you again.” He rolls on top of me, his body big and hard and very awake even as sleep still drips from his voice. “I didn’t get a chance last night.”

He did his best to keep me up, but after a marathon thirty-hour set of flights from Sydney through Dubai, and finally back to Toronto, I zonked out hard after he picked me up from the airport.

One more month, and we’ll be making the journey back to Australia together.

In the end, it was Toby who made the first move down under, and I’ll be the one who technically follows along. It started with our conversations in Sagaponack, and it never stopped. By Christmas, he’d announced that Starfish Instrumentation would be starting two new divisions, with headquarters in Australia and India. A commitment to the other side of the world, he said, that his company had a global vision and international commitment.

Now it’s official—I’m going to continue my studies in Sydney, and we just closed on a house overlooking the beach.

A slight upgrade from my tiny, one-bedroom condo here.

The new house is a wedding present, he told me.

Tomorrow is our one-year anniversary. We’re going to Toronto City Hall, and Mr. Graham, the officiant who unofficially married us the first time, is going to do it all over again. This time, with a marriage license and everything.

Our wedding date won’t change. Only the year.

And then it will be a whirlwind month. Packing and moving and graduating for me, handing over North American operations to a new command team for Toby.

He’ll have someone do all his packing for him. Perk of being a billionaire.

We’ll have one last monthly tea with Nana in New York. I think she’ll miss Toby more than me. He humors her business talk and isn’t lippy in the least.

Then we’ll fly around the world to our new home, where we will finally make love in our marriage bed, in the house he bought me as a wedding gift, in the city I’ve dreamed of living in as long as I’ve been an adult.

I can’t wait.

“Ah, Cara, I’ve missed you…” Toby’s voice is soft, and the words rub right against my soul as I arch beneath him.

Correction. I can wait. I will wait, always, for whatever comes next for us. Because waiting is no hardship. I’ve got Toby, and he’s got me.

“I missed you, too,” I whisper, curling my legs up on either side of his body.

His hands go to my thighs and push them open. We’ve come a long way in a year, and we know each other inside and out. I flex against his touch and he growls for me.

“You offered to exhaust me,” I tease as he pins me down and nips at my shoulder. “Is it too early to wrestle?”

“Never.” He handily flips me over and while I’m laughing at him, he kisses his way down my spine, his lips brushing over my tattoo. He loves that spot on my back. Maybe I should get another one.

I push back against him. My husband. The only man who’s ever lit me up inside, and he does it all the time. His hand snakes between my legs from behind and he finds my clit. He slides it between two flat fingers, pinching the nub as I try to squirm.

“Surrender,” he murmurs in my ear. I stretch out my arms and push my hips into the air, and he chuckles. “That was easy.”

“I missed you,” I admit, blushing. “Now fuck me.”

“A week in Australia and already you’re cursing up a storm. I like it.” This time it’s his cock that rubs against my clit, and I press my face into the bed as I moan. “Ready for me?”

“Fuck. Me.”

He’s laughing as he presses into me, stealing my breath. Am I ever ready for this? It’s the best thing in the world.

I close my eyes as he pumps his hips, setting a sweet, slow tempo that tortures and pleases me in equal measure.

“I’m going to take my time, since I’m awake,” he murmurs. “Nice and slow and deep, just like this. Until you’re begging for my thumb on your clit. Or in your ass, maybe.”

I gasp. “No.” But I clench around him. Maybe yes. Okay, definitely yes. “Okay.”

“Hussy. I missed you too.” On that, he flexes his hips, driving himself an extra bit deeper on the bottom of the thrust. “Touch yourself, then. My fingers are going to be busy.”

* * *

Mr. Graham meets us in front of the brightly colored TORONTO sign in front of city hall.

“Has it been a year already?” he asks as he shakes Toby’s hand. “It’s a great honor to see you both again.”

We hand over the license, and he slides it into his leather folder. “Same vows again?”

“Yes, please,” I say, my voice surprisingly shaky.

Toby squeezes my hand reassuringly.

Mr. Graham starts with him. “Do you, Tobias Alexander Hunt, re-commit your life to this woman? Do you take her to be your partner in all meanings of the word, to support her and nurture her in her life’s endeavors?”

“I do.”

Those two words haven’t lost their punch. My eyes well up as the officiant turns to me. “And do you, Cara Elizabeth Russo, re-commit your life to this man? Do you take him to be your partner in all meanings of the word, to support him and nurture him in his life’s endeavors?”

“I do.”

“As we have already had an exchange of rings…” Mr. Graham starts to move forward in the ceremony, but this time, I’m the one who’s got the surprise.

I hold up my finger, then open my clutch. Damn it, I should have practiced this part. “Actually, last year, only Toby had a ring that day.” The band I’ve secreted away in there slips under my fingers before I grab it properly and pull it out. “Ah ha!”

Toby’s mouth drops open, then he bites his lip and nods, his eyes full of warmth.

“I don’t remember what you said.” My voice is so thick with emotion maybe it doesn’t matter—I won’t be able to say much, anyway.

Mr. Graham clears his throat. “This is, uh, one of my duties.” We turn toward him and his cheeks turn pink. “I wrote it down.”

“Oh, excellent. Okay. What do I say?” I turn back to Toby and he holds out his hand. Unlike me, he’s not shaking at all.

“Toby, I give you this ring…” Mr. Graham prompts, and I repeat it as I slide the plain platinum band over his knuckle.

“Toby, I give you this ring… As a symbol of my endless love… our enduring friendship… and the adventures still to come.” I beam at him as I finish, then I throw my arms around his neck. “I can kiss him now, right? He did that last year.”

“Absolutely, Mrs. Hunt. I now pronounce you husband and wife, by the power vested in me by the Province of Ontario. You may kiss your groom.”