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Millie nods. “Yes, let’s start over.” She grabs two champagne flutes. Dammit, I thought we were past the drinking thing. She digs through the mini-fridge and pulls out some sparkling water and fills our glasses.
“To starting over,” she says, as she hands me a glass.
“To being Mr. and Mrs. King.”
She smiles bigger now. “I’m still not fucking you, Mr. King.”
“Oh, we will see about that. There is only one bed, after all, I don’t think you’ll be able to resist having me sleep next to you every night and not fuck me.”
“This suite is huge. I’m sure you can sleep on the couch, or the hotel can bring up a cot for you to sleep on.”
I step closer to her, into her space. She doesn’t step back. She’s too determined to not let me affect her.
“I don’t think the hotel would know what to do if the couple in the honeymoon suite asked for a cot.”
“You’re full of shit, Mr. King. You don’t give a fuck what the hotel staff thinks of us.”
“But you do.”
She cocks her head and folds her arms. “Actually, I don’t. But the bed is huge. I think we can manage to sleep next to each other like adults and not fuck like bunnies. Unlike you, I don’t have sex with someone just because they share a bed with me.”
“I don’t either, Mrs. King. But I’m very much going to enjoy fucking my wife.”
Her breath catches. I got the reaction I wanted. Now it’s time for the real fun.
14
Millie
The entire day has been one activity after the other. We’ve been going non-stop since we left the room early in the afternoon.
We’ve explored the city, went zip-lining, and then finished the day off with a jet ski tour. We haven’t had time to stop, even to enjoy a romantic meal together all day, which was intentional.
I don’t want to give Sebastian any opportunity to say sweet things that makes my heart go pitter-patter. Staying in a honeymoon suite in Hawaii with a hot man like Sebastian is just asking for trouble, so I need to keep us out of that hotel room as much as possible. We will only return when we are both seconds away from crashing.
Sebastian, to his credit, has been a good sport. He hasn’t complained once about the crazy schedule I’ve made us keep. His only attempt at romance was when we were renting jet skis, suggesting that we share one. I quickly said I wanted my own, and he didn’t protest too hard. And when I looked back at him, he seemed to be having a good time driving his own jet ski.
But now it’s getting dark. The day is ending, and I’m running out of excuses for us not to go back to our hotel room.
“Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” I say.
“Lead the way,” Sebastian says, just like he has all day. He’s gone along with every activity. I wonder if he will truly let me decide every activity of this vacation. So far, he has.
I kick off my flip flops. Sebastian does the same as we walk along the hotel’s beach in the moonlight. We pass a few couples holding hands. If we were really here on our honeymoon, we would be doing the same. Although, if we were really here on our honeymoon, I doubt I would be making an excuse to not go back to our hotel room right now. In fact, we’d probably spend our entire time in the hotel room.
“So we haven’t had time to talk much. What do you do for a living?” I ask.
“Nope, we aren’t going to go there.”
I frown. “How are we going to pretend to be married to each other if we don’t know anything about each other when we return?”
“First of all, we will know all the important things, like you hate pineapple, and I hate sushi.”
“Which is absolutely ridiculous, by the way. Who hates sushi?”
He ignores me. “I’ll know that you snore and how long it takes you to do your makeup.”
“I don’t snore and five minutes.”
