Everything I've Never Had (33 page)

AS WE SLIDE back into his truck to head back to New Orleans from the Bay, I slide my hand into his before he can demand it. He looks over, giving me that devastating smile of his—the one that causes his little laugh lines to bunch up around his eyes, the one that makes me want to stare at him for all of eternity. I’ve got it so bad for him.

“I didn’t have to tell you,” he says. “Good girl.”

I beam at his praise. “You make me so happy,” I tell him. “I just want to make you happy too.”

He pulls my knuckles to his mouth and rests his lips there for a minute. “Wife, you make me so happy it’s almost ridiculous.”

Devastating tremors make quick work of my body. “And that makes me ridiculously happy,” I say with a laugh.

A sudden thought occurs to me, causing my laughter to continue to bubble from me loudly.

“What?” Adrian asks, giving me a lopsided grin.

“It just occurred to me that I’ve once again been granted a reprieve from the tedious process of changing my last name.”

“Oh,” he chuckles with me, “is that what this is? A marriage of convenience?”

My laughter dies out, and he makes eye contact with me. “The only convenience that I’m looking forward to taking advantage of is being able to have you whenever I want.” Lifting his hand to my lips, I kiss it tenderly.

The rest of our short ride back to the city is quiet, so I find myself reflecting on our perfectly quiet ceremony. I wished the boys had been there, but Adrian and I decided on the way over that we’d have small ceremony and big reception when he got back for our family—whoever was happy for us could attend and no one need be the wiser about the fact that we were already husband and wife. He said we’d spring it on them at the reception. I don’t know that I’ll be able to wait that long.

After we’d said our vows and the church secretary had snapped some pictures of us, Adrian had taken us to a little gulf-side bistro where we’d enjoyed a light meal and spoken of some of our plans upon his return.

Just when I thought that our little moment in time was winding to an end, the server popped over with a huge slice of Italian cream cake. Adrian cut a piece with lots of icing off before using his fingertips to gather it up and feed it to me. Unabashedly, I’d licked every drop of icing from his fingertips. First, because icing is the best part of the cake. Second, and most importantly, he’d tasted delicious and the little flare of his eyes when I scraped my teeth down his finger was priceless and thoroughly encouraging of my wanton behavior. I figured he was my husband and if I wanted to lick him and nip at him in public and he was OK with that, then that’s what I was going to do.

When I fed him his tiny piece sans icing, he did much the same even though I happened to know he really doesn’t like sweets.

After changing, we decide to go for a walk before calling it a night since it is a gorgeous fall evening and we don’t get those for long around here—it was either sweltering or freezing. As we walk through Woldenberg Park hand in hand and speak of nothing really important, my mind drifts to considering exactly what a tour in Iraq means for Adrian, exactly what he will be facing over there. And I just feel...overwhelmed. He’s talking to me about a song he and Zach had been working on and weren’t seeing eye-to-eye on, and I feel like I’m about to lose it. Frantically, I search for a restroom or some place to hide and just bawl my face off, but we’ve just come out on the Moonwalk and there’s nothing.

I feel my whole body tense and I can’t swallow. I’m about to make a break for it when I realize we’ve stopped walking, and he’s standing in front of me. My pulse is racing, and I feel slick with sweat. I try to focus on Adrian, and I watch his mouth moving and his terrified eyes searching mine, yet I can say nothing.

I’m in a bubble. I want to reach my hand up and pop it and continue my perfect day like nothing’s happened, but I’m paralyzed. Finally, I feel my arms being jerked and I hear Adrian’s voice, which doesn’t much resemble Adrian’s voice but Charlie Brown’s teacher. I see a brilliant shard of light, and then I’m back.

“Oh my God,” I gasp for air and grab my knees, panting for oxygen.

“Celeste, what the hell?” Adrian growls.

“I’m...I’m sorry. I—”

“You scared the shit out of me,” he barks as he rights me and rubs my arms.

“I didn’t mean to.”

He’s kissing my face, and when his lips move to mine, I taste the salt from my tears. I grab at his neck and return his kiss with fervor until we are both breathless. Laying my head on his chest, I look out over the Mississippi and the setting sun.

“Adrian, look,” I say after a couple of minutes.

He turns his head and takes in the beautiful sunset with its brilliant purples and pinks and oranges. “Magnifique,” he says simply.

“I’m so sorry I scared you.”

He looks back to me. His eyes no longer quite as worried. “Has that ever happened before?”

“No, never.”

“Baby, you froze. You were gasping for breath, your pulse was erratic, and your body temperature spiked. But you were almost...catatonic.”

“It was strange. One minute I was thinking how wonderful our day had been and my mind wandered for a moment to your leaving and what’s happening over there. And I was just...gone.”

“Shit,” he says as he hugs me tighter to him.

“Can we go back to the room now?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

I’M STARING IN the bathroom mirror, willing myself to go out to him. I’ve been wanting him and waiting for this moment for so long, but I’m incredibly nervous. It’s been a long time for me.

Taking a couple of breaths, I study myself critically for a couple of minutes. I’d changed into my aquamarine silk gown that resembled my wedding dress in its simplicity except the gown has spaghetti straps. It was long and flowing. I’d put my thigh highs back on for him since he seemed so excited by the prospect earlier. They matched my little white lace underwear. My black hair cascades around my shoulders. The only jewelry I’m wearing is my beautiful wedding set. I hold it up again, admire it, release a deep sigh, and jump when I hear a knock at the door.

“Yes?” I call.

“You all right, baby?” he asks.

Instead of answering, I open the door with a flourish. His swift intake of breath is all the reassurance I need. I step out and into his arms. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“Oh, no worries. You’re worth the wait.”

I hear some light jazz sounds and realize its coming from outside. He must have a window open. That’s the last thought I have as he runs his hands along my backside and pulls me in closer. I moan with the knowledge that he’s already hard, and I know I’m ready too.

Adrian slants his mouth over mine hungrily, and I quickly follow suit. I feel my silk bunched up around my waist, and he mumbles, “We won’t be needing this any longer.” He whips it over my head. He’s quite talented because he doesn’t disturb a single hair on my head.

His mouth is back on mine, he’s moving backwards toward the bed with me in tow. My pulse races and my heart beats a frantic tattoo. I’ve never wanted anyone or anything more in my life. Bending, he scoops me up, spins, and lays me down. I swallow hard as he pushes off his pajama bottoms to reveal he’s naked underneath and oh so ready for me. He makes me giggle when he raises his eyebrows seductively and grins big.

Inching up on the bed, his knee slides between my legs until it gets to my knees. When his eyes lift to mine, the hunger that I see there makes me moan. He sits up and runs his hands up my stocking covered legs. “I love these. So freakin’ hot, babe.”

Bending he kisses the exposed skin just above the lacy tops. I giggle at his light kisses. Running his nose up my leg, he doesn’t stop until he places a kiss on my center, and then he buries his nose, inhaling deeply. He nips at me through my lace. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m already panting and gasping and trembling beneath him.

He must sense all that because he says, “Easy, baby,” as he works his way up my torso, over my breasts, and to my mouth again, kissing me into submission.

Sitting back again, he eases my underwear down and his lips follows his hands until he’s making love to me with his mouth. My hands find their way into his hair, pushing at him and encouraging him simultaneously until I am a bucking, writhing mass underneath him. Relaxing under him, I struggle to understand how I can feel sated and wanting at the same time.

Kissing the inside of my thighs, he makes his way up my body with his mouth until he’s back to looking in my eyes. His beautiful blues are glistening and bright. I smooth his hair down a little from all of my pulling. Running his hand along my jaw, he grasps it before bringing my mouth to his. I whimper at the intimacy of kissing him after he’s so thoroughly kissed me.

“I knew it,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “I knew you’d be perfect.”

I can’t stand it anymore. I need him, so I tell him. “Adrian, I need you. I need you inside of me now.”

He doesn’t make me wait any longer. I feel him nudging and I wrap my legs around him and pull him into me. His head falls to my neck where he groans and tells me I feel so good. I want those blues back.

“Blues, please,” I murmur.

“Hmm?” He looks up at me.

“I don’t want to lose my blues,” I tell him, running my fingertips along his brow bone.

He gives me his eye-crinkling smile before his expression turns serious and he begins working my body in earnest. “My wife, my love,” he says as moves in and out of me with precision. I’ve never felt more loved, more cherished, more alive.

“Husband, I love you,” I whisper.

“My heaven, I love you,” he declares as he sinks even further into me, his blues never leaving me.

ADRIAN ASKS ME if I’d like to go out for drinks and dinner. I do not. I want as much quiet time with him as possible, so we order room service and champagne. Then we veg out in front of the TV. Him in his shorts. Me in my silk. Us laughing ridiculously at
Friends
reruns.

“Chandler’s the funniest.” I argue as I toss another grape in his mouth, and he breaks off another slice of cheese for me. “He has that dry, clever sense of humor that I absolutely love and find so sexy.”

“You think Chandler’s sexy?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yes, his sense of humor makes him nerd hot.”

“Nerd hot?” He grimaces. “I don’t like you thinking about how hot other guys are,” he says on pout.

I can’t help but laugh out loud. “He’s a fictional character, Adrian. You can’t possibly be jealous.”

“The hell I can’t!”

I gasp. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Matthew Perry is real,” he persists.

“Oh, yes, and if he lived around here you’d
really
have the right to be concerned,” I say my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He doesn’t miss a beat. “He doesn’t live here, but he visits here. I’ve met him.”

“You’re not kidding,” I say with shock. Springing up on my knees, I scoot over to him and push him back before straddling him. I grab both of his hands and hold them at his sides as I lean in and tell him, “You are the sexiest.” Kiss. “The hottest.” Nip. “The funniest.” Bite. “The most intelligent.” Lick. “The kindest.” Long, lingering kiss. “Man I’ve ever known. You have no reason to be jealous—ever—even of Matthew Perry who we both know is ridiculously good looking and funny.” I can’t help but laugh as I place a chaste kiss on his lips.

My laughter is short-lived as he has me on my back and under him before I know what’s hit me. He nips at my mouth with his teeth before running them up my jaw to my ear. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Celeste,” he warns me. I pull back and see his eyes twinkling.

“You’re not funny,” I complain. “I thought you were really jealous. I was wondering what I’d gotten myself into.”

He starts laughing in earnest. “I am jealous. I’m not kidding about that. I’m just not really mad about it. Seriously, if you run into Perry on the street, steer clear. I can see the headlines now—‘Local Mafia Princess Runs Away with Geeky Funny Guy Leaving Behind Devastated Marine/Guitarist.’”