Page 115 of Dirty Pool

“Promise?”

“Until the day I die.”

“Hmm,” Gabbie said.

“What?”

“I was just thinking.”

Michel’s lips grazed higher on her neck until he came to the shell of her ear. Letting his teeth nibble on the flesh, he muttered, “About?”

Gabbie laughed, but he didn’t miss the way her body shivered, either. “You.”

“Oh, keep going. I do love it when people talk about me.”

“Vain.”

“But is it really, though?”

“A wee bit, but I like it,” she whispered. “I was thinking I don’t know where you came from, or what put you in my path, and I don’t think I deserve you … but you’re mine, I’m keeping you, and I love you, Michel.”

“I love you, too.” He grinned against her ear. “But you already knew that, right?”

Gabbie pressed the side of her head against his. “I suppose. So, what do we do now?”

Oh, there was a lot of things they had to do. He still hadn’t called his parents despite being in the city for two days, now, and he hadn’t ate since that morning. Although, he did manage to find something healthy and appropriate for Gabbie to eat during their long wait at the City Clerk’s office.

But right now?

“I really just want to fuck my wife,” Michel told her.

He saw her grin grow sinful in a blink.

“You should probably get on that, then.”

Oh, most definitely.

It was silly, maybe.

Kind of stupid.

But Michel still picked Gabbie up in a cradle embrace to walk her to the bedroom. Because wasn’t that what husbands were supposed to do with their wives on the night of their wedding? Walk over the threshold to start their life while carrying their life at the same time?

It was silly, sure.

It still felt right.

Once Michel had Gabbie on her back in the large king-size bed, he took his time to pull every piece of clothing keeping her body from him away until she was bare on the bed in nothing but her sin and skin. His fingertips traced the dots of her freckles—he still loved those the very most. The spattering of freckles across her breasts, and the ones coloring her features. His mouth followed the same path as his hands, too.

Kissing.

Tasting.

Biting.

Not hard, though.

Not tonight.