Forgotten Promise (Forgotten Series Book 2) (14 page)

Nathan

Licenses
the sign says as we follow the
path leading to the office. The small white building is hidden away, only one
person is behind the counter.

“Welcome, welcome come
in,” the older man says with sincerity.

“We here for our
marriage license,” Bryer offers.

“You’ve come to the
right place,” he says as he approaches us.

His native roots
obvious, but the enthusiasm contagious.

“You have to use the
license within two weeks,” he mentions.

“That won’t be a
problem, it’s tomorrow,” I say

“Great, fill out
these forms and it will be fifty dollars.”

As I read the
questions, I know Bryer is doing the same. Have you ever been married before,
have you ever been prosecuted with a felony?

“Any felonies I don’t
know about, Bryer?”

“Not that I’m willing
to discuss here. Have you ever been arrested?”

“There was that one
time, for indecent exposure, peeing behind a dumpster at a club. I got a
ticket, does that count?”

“Sorry, not cool
enough.” She laughs.

“Mine is complete.”
As I hand it over, she follows with hers. We pay, and the man hands us our
paperwork.

“That was painless,
let’s meet up with Clayton and Gen if they haven’t killed each other yet,” I
suggest.

We slowly stroll the pathway,
it’s filled with detailed carvings, flowers I’ve never seen. I rest my arm
around her shoulder, and she leans into me. “Less than twenty-four hours baby,
you nervous?” I ask.

“No, not even a
little bit.”

I reach for her hand,
bringing it to my mouth, kissing her ring, my ring, the symbol that she will be
mine, forever. Even if I tried, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face at this
very moment.

We make it to the
bar, it’s completely exposed to the elements, and half of it is covered, the
other is open to the outdoors. I notice Clayton right away, and right by his
side is Gen. Interesting. I squeeze Bryer’s hand as I nod in their direction.

“So they live,” she
says.

We reach the bar and
have a seat, ordering for the both of us, neither acknowledging us.

Bryer shrugs her
shoulders.

I take it as a bad
sign.

~ ~ ~

“I’d like a red bull
and a vodka tonic,” Clayton orders.

“You’re doing it
wrong,” Gen says.

“I’m ordering wrong?
Deal with it.” Dismissing her much easier than Gen is able to.

“You gonna’ eat
that?” Clayton is pointing at Gen’s shrimp and taking one.

“Go ahead, you’ve
slobber all over it.” Pushing the entire plate in front of him.

“Hey, having fun?”
Bryer interrupts.

“You’ve got to be
kidding,” Gen replies.

I watch as Clayton downs
a Red Bull and chases it with his vodka tonic.

“It’s not a race,
man,” I say, as he just looks at me and waves the bartender back.

Gen sips her lemon
martini.

I notice the empty
glass on the bar. So heavy drinking is the trick, I’m cool with that.

“A shot of Tequila,
make it four,” Clayton orders.

“Whoa, not me,” I
say.

“I’m getting married
in the morning.” And Clayton spills out some sloppy version of an old song with
that title. He can’t be shit-faced already, we were only gone an hour.

“You okay, man?” I
ask, putting my arm over his shoulder for privacy.

“I have rage issues.”

I laugh.

“Or so I’ve been
told,” Clayton says with a slight slur.

I see both Gen and
Bryer, slamming down their shots. I’ll be keeping a close eye on my bride to be
tonight. Watching them giggle like kids, I guess I’m the designated grown up
tonight.

Clayton shakes salt
on his wrist, but misses. He licks
nothing
anyway, downs the shot and
sucks on the lemon. “Don’t forget your wife’s name, that will mess you up.”
Pointing his finger at me.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that
in mind, Clayton.”

“Dance floor,” Bryer
yells.

I’ve only have
pleasurable memories of dancing with her so I grab her wrist and gently pull
playfully. Dancing to a Hawaiian beat is a little different, but we give it our
best. After three dances, we are starting to sweat, and are pretty much done.

“I’m hungry,” Bryer
decides, so back to the bar we go.

“Excuse me, can we
see a menu?” I wave the bartender over.

“Clayton, is that all
you want to eat?”

“What kind of question
is that? She’s sitting right here.”

I notice the slur has
deepened—not good, not good at all. Fuck, he’s smashed. I’m afraid what’s
coming next. “I’ll order you something, buddy.”

“Lobster, baby?” I
get a head nod and a big smile. I notice two more empty shot glasses by
Clayton. “I’ll need my best man to be present tomorrow, can you slow it down?”
I firmly say.

“I’m not saying it
was aliens, but it was aliens.”

“Bro, I think you’ve
lost your shit,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder.

“You can’t ignore me
forever, Gen.” Clayton faces Gen’s back.

Uh-oh, I see her
slowly turn to face him, she’s definitely not drunk by the look on her face.

“Truth is, I’m crazy
for you. Everyone can see it but you, Gen.” Clayton spills.

Silence…

“So, you’re telling
me I have a chance?” Word-vomit still spilling.

Silence. With a twist
of confusion.

“I know, I’m lucky
I’m so cute,” he continues.

“Clayton,” she says.

“We can stop playing
games now.”

“Did someone give him
some truth serum?” I playfully ask. “Filter, Clayton.” I try to stop the
avalanche.

“I know you think I’m
a fuck-stick, but I’m not that kind of guy.”

I’ve never seen Gen
this quiet, and Bryer’s mouth is hanging open. I’m not sure if I should laugh,
or gag him.

“Are you out of your
fucking mind?” Leaning over so only he can hear.

“Nathan, this is
between Gen and me. Stay out of it.”

“As you wish,
dumb-ass. But, dig the grave deeper, will ya?” Taking a seat on my bar stool.

Our dinner arrives.

Bryer switches seats
next to me. “This looks wonderful.” As she takes her first bite. “This has to
be the best lobster I’ve ever had.” Then quietly leans into me. “What is
Clayton doing?”

“Drunk Clayton is
uniquely impulsive,” I answer, but there is no answer.

“I’ll eat just one, I
swear.” Reaching for a sliver of lobster, then proceeds to dip it in butter
with his hands.

“Jesus, Clayton, I
ordered for you, it’s coming. Gross, where have your hands been?” I complain.

Immediately a plate
is set down in front of him.

“Eat.” As I push it
even closer.

“Gen, what are you
having?” Watching Bryer leaning over the bar to make eye contact.

“Lobster Bisque,” she
answers but is too quiet, too quiet for Gen. Is it Walker? Bryer mentioned what
happened, I’m sure it’s fucking Walker.

“There’s a fire show
in an hour, or we could go swimming?” Bryer suggests.

No one answers right
away.

“Is that a trick
question?” I answer. “You in a bikini in a heated pool?” She smiles back at me,
as I nod my head to the door leading us out.

“Okay, I got your
vote, Mr. Obvious.” But closing in on me, her fingers making little circles on
my thigh.

“I’m going to the
show,” Gen answers but never looks up, sounding too vacant for her usual loud
mouth.

“I’m staying here.”
And orders another drink.

“Take it easy,
Clayton, I need you tomorrow.”

“I say no to alcohol,
it just doesn’t listen.” Clayton cracks a lopsided grin, but no one laughs but
him.

“Let me know how that
works for you, pal.” As I get off the stool helping Bryer, and pulling her
close.

“Think they’ll be safe?”
Bryer asks, as we leave the bar.

“We are talking about
Clayton, so no.”

As I watch her gather her
necessities, my eyes travel up her beautiful body in a white bikini, she’s
barely wearing, her long waves piled up in a messy bun high on her head. I
crave her shamelessly. “Can I help you?”

“Most certainly.”

Caught admiring how
sexy she is, it’s pretty obvious the predicament I find myself in. Hard as
steel. “C’mon, let me get you under the water, so I can do sinful things to
you, I’m getting impatient.”

“I love it when you
beg.” Smiling as she opens the door.

The evening is warm
as the sun sets, a cool ocean breeze floats around us as we walk hand-in-hand
down the lit pathway to the pool. Eventually making it to the gate, I notice
we’re alone, the entire pool to ourselves. How fucking lucky am I? Setting our
items on two loungers, I watch as she unties the sarong, a word I just learned,
and tosses it on the chair. She doesn’t waste any time as she descends into the
water step-by-step. Looking over her shoulder. “It’s a perfect temperature,
join me.”

I don’t need an
invitation, I’m there.

The moment our bodies
meet I’m reminded of how much I love her, want her, need her. I’m going to fuck
her right here, an expression of physical love. Is that what love does to all
men? Uttering words you would never let another dude hear you say.

“Oh, baby, I’ve never
wanted a woman as much as I want you.” Running my fingers up and down her arms.
My brain unable to focus on anything but what’s standing right in front of me.

“I want you to take
me,” she whispers.

Her words bringing me
to my fucking knees. I cage her against the side of the pool, allowing my hard
cock to cushion against her sweet ass. There’s no denying how fucking aroused I
am. And kiss her senseless, as her head turns to meet my mouth, my tongue
finding places it has never explored. Breaking away breathless.

She leans over the
side as I frantically release my screaming cock and move her bottoms to the
side.

“Can you be quiet?” I
ask my tongue running the length of her neck. I hear nothing more than a low
murmur. Nice. “I know you’re a screamer.” Our eyes meet in silent humor.

I desperately want to
sink into her, but my fingers find she’s not ready. I circle her bundle of
nerves and am rewarded with a moan building her craving the faster I move. I
feel her start to tremble and insert one finger to find her wet for me. Her
head flies back and rests on my shoulder where I kiss her, holding her cheek in
one hand and her sweet pussy in the other. Dexterity I have mastered over the
years.

Jesus, I could come
undone too soon. As I drag my mouth from hers, I line myself up as if it was a
race to fulfill her. I slide my cock in easily.

“You’re so fucking hot,
Bryer.” Her name on my lips coming out in a shaky breath. As I pull out, I
watch myself enter her again under water. The view distorted but not the
sensation. I steady my stance and spread her legs wider as she arches her back
to the angle she wants. I want it to last, make her come over and over. I reach
around where I can circle her clit and still keep this punishing rhythm.

“That’s right, baby.”
Devastating her control as I feel her tighten, her orgasm taking her swiftly.

She’s like a drug,
driving me mad, unhinging me. I lift her hips easily with the help of the
water, now probing in a slow repetitive rhythm as I hold my control at bay.
Reading her body by her ragged breathing. Surging into her harder, I want to
own another orgasm.

“Give me your fire,
baby.”

Witnessing the
ripples of pleasure take her again. “Do you feel me?” A sharp spasm rushes over
me as I feel my own orgasm spill into her. “All mine,” I whisper in her ear.

“All yours,” she
answers between breaths.

We lost track of
time, after what felt like hours floating around the pool together, her legs
wrapped tightly around my waist, her arms around my neck.

“What a great ass you
have.” As I grip both cheeks, and rub her against me. Damn, I could go again.
But it’s getting late, I want us both to be well rested for tomorrow. Releasing
her hand after we step out of the pool, I watch as she grabs her things.
“Happy, baby?”

“Deliriously happy.”

“A reminder, we meet
with the officiate first thing in the morning. A Mr. Kahale, he’s native to the
islands here.” As we find ourselves on the path again.