Chasing Stars (39 page)

With a jolt, I sit on the edge of the bed. My heart thumps violently. My mouth permeates with the familiar taste of metal and fear. Portia stares at me with wide eyes and a confused expression. Damn, I must have woken her with my screams. Way to wake up my wife on our first night.

“Will, are you OK?” She asks, sitting up beside me.

“I’m all right, baby. Just a bad dream, that’s all. Go back to sleep.” I stroke her disheveled hair and glance at the clock. It is four in the morning. We are back in the barn, sleeping for the first time as husband and wife. I don’t understand how in the midst of so much peace and happiness, I had the recurrent nightmare.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep, unless you tuck me in.” She yawns, and I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I say, but I realize the gesture might put an obstacle between us. The last thing I want is to start the rest of our lives together with this tone.

“Do you care to shower with your husband?” I nibble on her naked shoulder.

“Will, don’t you want to talk about your dream?” She purrs, and her hand caresses my chest and then trails down to my abdomen.

“No, not with you distracting me like this,” I groan and kiss her neck.

“Let’s take a bath. After all the trouble Lucas went to have it installed in time for our wedding, we don’t want to disappoint him.”

“I’ll light the fireplace.” I climb out of bed and tug her hand, pulling her with me. I release her hand, and she strolls, nude, toward the tub. I tilt my head to better admire her gorgeous ass and I feel an aching need to follow her. Instead, I gather the wood and pile it in the fireplace. I want to take some time to cool my mind. The truth is the nightmare drained me. Tonight, it felt closer and more real than ever before. I shudder. Images of Portia’s bloody face with a blank expression flashes through my mind. It was the most disturbing and most real dream yet.

I light the fire and watch the flames climb up, caressing the wood. Portia’s screams in the dream still ring in my ears. Lost in my thoughts, I am startled when Portia calls to me.

“Come on, the bath is ready.” She bats her long lashes my way.

I stride across the room and clamber inside the gigantic tub. Sitting with Portia in front of me, I focus on her. Her small hands squirt shampoo then rub it into a lather.

“Wet your hair,” she requests with her sultry voice.

I oblige, dipping my head into the hot water. When I surface, she straddles me. My body responds to her fingers gently pressing my scalp and mussing my hair with her suggestive movements. With her eyes fixed on mine, her hands slide down my neck, across my chest, and under my arms. She soaps every inch of my upper body. I shift my body, painfully aroused under her delicate strokes. She bites her lower lip. I watch her face as she scoots back and inhales before sliding her hands down my abdomen. She pauses on a very active part of my anatomy and she wraps her fingers around my erect penis. My breath becomes ragged. Her touch is gentle, tantalizing.

“I think you are clean husband, you may rinse,” her voice falters, and I know she wants me as much as I want her. Again, I oblige. The scalding water laps against my skin and I submerge to rinse. When I surface, I run my hands through my wet hair.

Portia sprawls back against the tub. She smiles and invites me to her. I scoot to sit between her long legs. She wraps her legs and arms around me. Feeling the fullness of her breasts against my back, I relax in her embrace. I close my eyes and relish in the softness of her body absorbing mine. Her hands move along my abdomen, lazily hiking to my chest.

“Promise we will always be together and that you will never leave me,” Portia moans, her breath is hot and her teeth scrape lightly against my ear.

“What’s the matter?” I ask.

“The way you looked at me when you woke up, it terrified me. Will, you had the same stare as when you left me in London.” Her slender hands are drawing loops on my chest, and she rests her head on my back.

“I’m sorry, baby. I kind of get disoriented after these nightmares. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She places her hand on my tense shoulders, and begins to massage my upper back and neck.

“Do you think they will ever stop?” She asks me.

“I’m not as affected by them anymore. Just this one nightmare, that always comes back to haunt me.” I shrug.

“I wish I could take it away.”

“Having you, by my side, when I wake up, is more than I ever thought I would have.”

I relax under her firm fingers, but other muscles are too awake. She must have sensed it, because her breath speeds a bit and she tightens the hold of her legs around my hips.

“Will, I am trying to talk about your traumatic nightmares, and you have a hard-on?” I hear the smile in her voice.

“Oh, baby, it became a chronic condition once this hot movie star walked into my life one very warm May morning.” I grab her hand and bring it to my erection.

“Um, perhaps, besides being an awesome movie star, she can also work on finding a cure—” Portia, lips skims my back, and she bites my shoulder, sending a tight jolt to my insides. “I have high hopes, she does—” I turn, grab Portia by her waist, and straddle her on my lap. Water overflows, splashing everywhere.

“Oh, well, we have a long, long time to work on it.” She giggles. “On the other hand, why cure such a marvelous condition?”

“Good point…” Her hips swirl slowly, and seductively, and my condition worsens.

After a day of lovemaking, my body floats in a cloud of sweet soreness. I smile to myself and bite my lower lip. Will is every bit as I expected and more.
So
much more.

The violet horizon indicates the approaching twilight. We stroll along the path in the woods, hearing the cries of birds in the distance. A huge boulder sits beside the opening to the clearing. We clamber on it. Will sits, and I sprawl in between his legs.

“The weather is so nice.” I snuggle inside his embrace.

“Yeah, I guess it was one of God’s wedding gifts to us.” He nuzzles my hair. “I love your smell.” He breathes into my neck.

“I love everything about you.” I look at the horizon, and the sun is hiding behind the trees.

“We’ll have such beautiful views of sunsets from our home,” I say. “It amazes me how, before you came into my life, I never noticed or appreciated these daily miracles.”

“I always have liked the sky. I love looking at it and losing myself in whatever color palette the day offers.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go back to Manhattan tomorrow,” I murmur.

“Why don’t we stay?” Will’s voice is anxious.

“I can’t, other people are relying on me, Will. I simply can’t
not
show up.” The anxiety in his voice confuses me. “Why does my going back upset you?” I ask.

“Don’t mind me. I guess I just don’t want to let go of you just yet,” he says.

“It is only for a few hours,” I say, beaming on the inside. It is so wonderful to be treasured.

“Did you decide where we are going for our honeymoon?” There is a trace of humor in his voice.

“What you think of Tahiti? We could rent an isolated overwater bungalow and make love and drink coconut water to our hearts’ desire.”

“That’s a plan. I will look into it, when you are at your media interviews.”

We are silent, watching the sun disappear behind the trees. Even silence with Will is full of wonder.

“This is such a perfect place for a home,” I note.

“We need to hire an architect before January, when I start my graduate studies at Yale. I want to be able to move in by next fall, at the latest.”

“There is no rush, the barn is lovely.”

“I know, but you are used to much more luxury. I don’t want you regretting that you married me.”

“Oh, Will,
you
are my home, where we live is insignificant to me.”

“Also, when you carry my child inside this perfect little body, I want you to be surrounded by comfort.”

I pause for a second, my heart leaps. “Are you thinking about having children so soon?”

“I would have them today, but right now, I am very, very selfish when it comes to you.” He sweeps my hair to the side and kisses my nape, which sends electrical waves through my body.

“Hmm, the thought of a piece of you growing inside me is so beyond my understanding.” I turn to face him, suddenly serious. “Will, what did I do to deserve you, to deserve this?” I wave my hand around us. “I led such a promiscuous, vain life. And now, I have all this. It does not seem fair.”

“You, underestimate your value, Portia. You deserve so much more than you expect. You are worth so much more than you think.”

“Am I?”

“Oh, baby, you are my everything.” He straightens his arms around me. “I’d rather die than take my next breath of air without you in my life.”

After wrestling with a travel agent on the phone for over two hours, I give in and called Stefan. No wonder Portia adores the man. We are on a three-way phone call, arranging the last details of the trip. It took Stefan less than a half hour to schedule the flights and reserve a private overwater bungalow in Tahiti, just like Portia wanted. Granted, using the powerhouse name of Portia McGee, the man is doubly efficient. I sigh in relief. Tomorrow evening we head out on our honeymoon.

“It is very important that the guests are listed as Mr. and Mrs. Miller. And may I remind you that we are confident in your absolute discretion during their stay.”

“Rest assured, we have a select staff. Her staying here will be pleasant and completely secret,” says the hotel manager.

“Thanks,” Stefan tells the hotel manager. “And please stock the bungalow with fresh coconut water. In addition, the bed is to be made only with white Egyptian cotton sheets with at least a thousand thread count. And lots of white lilacs, Portia loves them.”

“Will that be all, or do the guests have any other special instructions for us?” the manager inquires solicitously.

“Will, any other requests?” Stefan directs the question to me.

“No, I’m good,” I say.

We bid good-bye to the manager, and in awe, I say, “Christ, Stefan, now I understand Portia’s dependency on you.”

“You’ve got to play the part, Will. We know Portia has no idea of what the thread count is on her sheets.” He chuckles. “And she couldn’t care less about having flowers in her room. But people seem to expect crazy demands from celebrities. It is one of the perks of being a celebrity. The more you request, the more eager they become to please you. Who am I to disappoint them on behalf of our Portia?” He says with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Thanks, man,” I say.

“Well, have a good time.” He pauses. “And Will, the wedding was too chaotic for me to get the chance to say this, but I want you to know that I am truly happy for you guys. Portia seems truly happy, and I wish you both a happy and long life together.”

“Hey, I appreciate it, man.” I smile. Stefan is one of the most genuine people I’ve met.

“Have a good trip.”

Waiting for Portia, I park across from the TV studio. Portia is having the last interview of the day. After she is done, we will go to my place and pack. Well, if I am being honest, we will mostly spend the time making love. I smile. Portia has an insatiable appetite. My body stirs to life at the mere thought of moving inside her.