Love Redeemed, Book 4 (32 page)

I
find myself on the west end of the boat, in the lounge area, cutting it up with Mark and Eric, laughing endlessly at their drunk asses advising how to smash my wife for the first time. I take another flute of
Armand de Brignac
from a passing waiter as these two are in full swing.

“No…no…no, Eric,” Mark bl
ows off with his hands. “You don’t want to take her missionary, you asshat! That’s how you impregnate her. You don’t want wedding day conception. So, you take her from the back, ease your way in there and then make her head break the headboard! Show her who’s in charge, aye?” Mark proceeds to thrust his hips in the air, which to me resembles a belly dance because all I can see is his meatball of stomach.

“Jacobs, bro,” Eric call
s out. “You want to pull out all of your
Romeo Romance
cards. Lick those toes, elbows—and the knee caps is a sure way of blowing her mind! Just flutter your tongue over the cap like this,” Eric flicks his nasty ass tongue in the air as his eyes close behind his lenses. I could slap the shit out of him if my disposition wasn’t so elated from it being my wedding day.

“What is that Mr. Gerrity?” Rayna’s face is wrinkled and
she’s wearing a puzzled expression when she abruptly chimes in.

My eyebrow
s lift at the sight of her beauty, the smile clearly knocked from my face. The last time I’ve seen her was after saying our goodnights to the first round of departing guests. I arranged several marina pick up and drop off spots according to where our small number of guests live or are staying. The first to go was Pastor and First Lady Edmondson, Chef Boyd and his staff, Peg, Dan Smith, his wife and Erin, amongst a few others.

When we turned back into the boat to set sail again, Rayna excused herself to change out of her wedding gown against my personal preference. Her beauty stole my breath. Seeing Rayna in that gown symbolized so much that made heart race in my chest. But I kn
ow the gown is layered in fabrics, making it weighty, so I didn’t fight her on it.

Now, seeing her in a white slip that expose
s her toned shoulders, arms, and thighs makes me shift in place. Her hair is still pushed back into a ponytail, off her face, and I find myself fantasizing about it being out and flowing, even in the new short cut that I’m growing fond of. Everything about Rayna mesmerizes me, turns me the fuck on in the worst way.

“Oh, nothing to worry your gorgeous head, my
Nubian queen,” Eric flirts in his cornball fashion. “You are lovely in your post-nuptial guise—just stunning, your blinding glow. Your exquisite beauty raptures me, sends me a flight with desires that cannot be spoken in front of mere men. They’d never understand—”

“Pshhhhh!” Mark exhale
s.

He fe
els just as revolted as I do when I scoff, “Get the fuck outta here, man, with that medieval coquetry bullshit!” I’m partly annoyed and somewhat humored by that corny shit.

Rayna laugh
s as Eric flips me the bird while glaring at me. She grabs my hand and wraps herself underneath my arm, wearing a full on blush.

“Why thank you, Mr. Gerrity.
I’m grateful for your appreciation, but can’t take credit for the glow.” Rayna tilts her head to me and mechanically, I press my lips to it. “Some exceptional man has made me an honest woman today.” I crack a smile.

“Yeah, you lucky son-of-a-bitch!” Lenny c
omes over, taking a seat on the bench with Mia in tow.

“Indeed,” I return with a nod as I extend my arm from around Rayna to give him some dap. Rayna
’s burrowed into me with her back to my chest. Having her in such close proximity is dangerous in mixed company.

“So, how much did this…
” Lenny waves his hand around, gesturing the boat. “…shit set you back? I’m sure a few stacks.”

I kn
ow we’ve all been drinking heavily and Lenny is no more sober than any of us, because he knows I never discuss money in public. Rayna goes stiff on top of me. I have to quickly think of a way to divert the question.

“Don’t know and ain’t worried,” I gently
grab Rayna by the top of her head, turning it to feel her lips against mine even if briefly. “Mrs. Jacobs is paying the tab on this bitch.”

Rayna gasp
s and her bulged eyes shoot up to me. I wink at her and she laughs softly realizing my humor.

Eventually, our guests dwindle
. Rayna’s dozed off, so I leave her to see our last bit off, onto the deck. I sign off on agreements and payments with Tessie before sending her on her way. I dismiss Marcus and Bruce who will be traveling with us this trip. They go down to the lower level for their cabins. Then I confirm over our sail plan with the head crew for our destinations.

By the time I
get back to my bride, I find her sprawled out on the bench surrendered to sleep. It’s extremely early, or late, depending on how you view four in the morning. The night has ended earlier than I anticipated. I scheduled our sailing at six am when I thought Rayna and I would be exhausted from lovemaking.

I lift
my wife in my arms and make my way down to our cabin. She’s so deep in sleep she barely stirs while I transported her. I’m relieved when I notice she’s wearing nothing more than what can be perceived as a slip, I don’t have to change her, just slip her sandals from her beautiful feet. I strip down to my boxers, no longer feeling intoxicated by alcohol but that of exhaustion of my wedding day. I pull a comforter from the closet and swing it open in the air for it to land on my sleeping beauty. I crawl underneath, pulling my wife so close to me that there’s no air between the two of us.

My wife. Shit. I can get used to th
is.

H
ours later, my consciousness rouses. My body isn’t prepared, but my mind is ready to awaken. I’m nearly delirious with fatigue. It takes me a few moments to gather myself. My eyes wearily peruse the cabin, and that’s when I think of her. Her scent permeates the beddings causing me to search the room again. Rayna is nowhere to be found. Yet.

I
struggle into the bathroom to shower and clean my mouth. How I was able to sleep through Rayna leaving the bed is beyond me. Excitement grows in my belly at the realization of having her with me for the next week, in the middle of nowhere, going everywhere. After slipping on a pair of
Hanro
lounge pants, I take off to the deck. I catch a deck crewmember leaving the front deck, twirling an empty tray in his hands.

“Mr. Jacobs, good
afternoon,” he nods, showing the deep part in his brown hair. “I just brought Mrs. Jacobs fresh fruit and coffee. What can get for you?”

Still
out of it from a long night and a lack of sleep, I answer, “Just my wife for now. Perhaps something later.” I still need to wake up.

“Very well, sir,” he murmurs
before walking off.

I head in the direction from which he came.
There isn’t a cloud in sight, but the sun is glaring and the wind is peaceably forceful. I see nothing in front of the boat but open marine, the same for behind. The motors underneath creates a rhythmic humming. It feels great being at sea.

After several steps,
I catch my first glance of her. She’s lying down on her belly, the delicate fabric of her white long peasant gown…that I discover as I draw closer is completely sheer. I turn my head momentarily back to the direction the crewman who’s just left, wondering if he got a glimpse of her lush flesh underneath the transparent fabric. Her head is facing the breeze, so the material blows down towards her feet for the most part, but underneath I can make out the contour of her curves.

“Close your mouth, Jacobs,” Rayna’
s light-hearted reprimand jolts me from my introspect. She smiles serenely as her hand tents over her sunglasses to block the sun. My dick has no problem awakening. The image of her makes every penny I’ve paid for this excursion worth it.

Rayna. My wife.
Goddamn.

My mouth close
s mechanically, I swallow hard, and then I jerk my chin towards her, “You naked underneath?”

She t
akes a moment to observe her appearance, almost as though she has no clue what’s jarred me. “Maybe…maybe not,” she shrugs before returning to her stomach and digging into her bowl of fruit.

I join
her, laying to her left to see what has her attention. She has a magazine pinned open with the bowl.

“You
’ve left me already?” I tease.

“I was too excited to sleep restfully
.” She pops a blueberry in her mouth, and then offers me a strawberry, to which I oblige. “Can you believe we’re married?”

While laying on my side and resting my head on my arm, I nod my head soberly.
You’re damn right.
She cracks a smile as though she can read my thoughts.

Her eyes
, suddenly filled with adoration, make their way to me. I can see through the tint in her sunglasses, thanks to the glaring sun. “Thanks for such an unforgettable day, Azmir. I couldn’t have asked for anything better…couldn’t have dreamt up anything more spectacular.”

My heart
expands at those words. I’ve only wanted to make Rayna happy. To give her
the world I’ve abound
is what I recall telling her in my bathroom, right after our return from Atlantic City. That’s still my mission. Her intense expression tells me I’m headed in the right direction. I swipe an errant clump of hair out of her face. I can tell that she’s showered and washed her hair from yesterday, allowing it to air dry.

I d
on’t speak much, content in her merriment.

“It’
s cool for the Moreau Brothers to lend you their boat. That’s very generous of them,” she appraises. “Was this a wedding gift from one set of your business partners?”

Struck with incredulity, I scoff, “
Gift
… my black ass. Try rental,” I reply. Those cheap asses—well, mostly Jacques. “Jean was the one who offered it when I’d done a little idle chatting about wedding planning over lunch a few months ago, just after the holidays. It was Jacques’ hating ass that brought up the payment for a rental. Not that I’d expected them to hand over the keys without me giving them something for it. Jean mentioned it being underutilized and it would be a great run for her.” I shake my head recollecting the conversation.

“When the paperwork came through for my signature, Jacques made sure to include that we must use their crew because they’re ‘most acquainted with the equipment
.’ And the crew had its own set of fees. I took it with his conditions,” I shrug.

“This must have cost you a fortune,” Rayna note
s.

My brows peak to acknowledge her statement, but I
’m not prepared to elaborate on an answer. I’ve spent double of what the average refurbished home costs in an urban city—something Rayna doesn’t have to know—but every penny is worth the excitement that’s vibrating off her right now. She enjoyed her wedding day, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

“Hey, did you catch Boyd on the dance floor?” Rayna thankfully switche
s gears. “Who knew that grizzly teddy bear of a man could move so gracefully.” She chuckles and I join her. Boyd thought he was on
Dance Fever
last night.

“And Kim...” Rayna’s
eyes grow wide. “...she was grinding on Petey like they were making their next baby!” She breaks out into a fit. I smile at her humor. The last thing Crack needs is another offspring.

“And Chanell!”
Rayna’s laughter explodes to a new octave. “She ate like a horse, drank like fish, danced like NFL cheerleader, and wondered why she ended her time on the boat puking her guts out!”

I sh
ake my head at that memory. Rayna can’t slow her laughing, reminiscing about it. Chanell didn’t enjoy her last couple of hours on the yacht.

Rayna ri
des out her jollity, breathing in fresh air, taking a moment to eat more fruit.

“Chyna and her plotting-partner was a bit much, I know,” she
murmurs, looking out into the water. “I can’t believe how much of her childhood I’ve missed…running.”

There
’s a long pause, both of us relaxing peacefully with ruminative thoughts running.

“And Erin...” My chest squeeze
s at the lowliness in her voice awakening me from my private thoughts. “Azmir, how were you able to pull that off?” she gazes deeply into my eyes.

I reach out and pull her closer to me as I remain on my side. I kn
ow she appreciates my effort, and that’s all that matters to me. We lay this way and talk for hours—well, mostly Rayna talks, and I absorb the fumes of her elation. We order a proper lunch while splayed out pads, chasing the waves ahead of us.

Fatigue from a lack of sleep, along with
being underneath the sun wears on us. Rayna’s chatter slows and her eyes start to slant. The deck crewmember brings our food out, asking where he should set it up. I tell him over on the west side of the boat, in the lounge area. He sets off to that direction.

“Let’s get out of this sun,” I suggest as I shift to get up and leave the stern.