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I shake my head.
“Fuck tradition. Stay with me.”
He nods and squeezes me tighter. He releases me and stands up. I think for a moment he’s leaving, and I open my mouth to beg him to stay, but he’s not leaving. He’s taking his jeans off so we can get into bed. I sigh when another thought occurs to me.
“What is it?” Mac frowns.
I shake my head and wave away his concern.
“Oh, it’s stupid really, with everything we have to think about. But I was just thinking. I know we said we’d wait until after we were married, and we will, but who waits ten whole fucking days after they get married?”
Mac snorts out a laugh.
“We’ve waited this long, what’s another ten days? And besides, we haven’t exactly done anything the conventional way, have we?”
“The boring way you mean.” I grin.
He’s down to his underwear, and I slip underneath the duvet and hold it up for him. He gets into the bed beside me, and I lay my head on his chest.
“It’ll be something to tell the grandkids I suppose,” I say.
“You really want to tell our grandkids how sexually frustrated we were?” Mac says. “Bit too much information for them I think.”
I can’t help but laugh, and once it starts, I find myself belly laughing as the pent-up emotion floods out of me. Mac joins me, and we lie
there, laughing at nothing, our emotions running wild, but knowing that one day, this will all be over and we can just be together without anything hanging over our heads.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAC
I look at my new bride standing beside me. She’s glowing. She looks absolutely beautiful. Her white dress makes her look even more tanned, and it hugs her figure in all of the right places before flowing out at the waist. Her hair is curled perfectly, pinned up with little tendrils hanging loosely around her face.
She looks happy, but beneath her smile and her excitement at being a bride is an underlying sadness. A sadness that I caused her to feel, and as I look at her, I absolutely fucking hate myself for making her feel that way.
I have an obligation to my country, I knew that the second I signed up for the military, but I have a duty to her too, and I have massively failed her. I’ve let her down on our fucking wedding day. What sort of a person does that? How can she even bear to look at me?
“On three, guys,” the photographer says.
He counts, and I fake a smile that I hope is convincing. I’ve already ruined our wedding day. I don’t want to ruin the photos as well by making it look like I’m not happy to be here. Because I am. I am fucking ecstatic about marrying Zoe. She is my soul mate, and I love her so much it hurts. She makes me the happiest man alive every day I’m with her, and when she looks at these pictures in years to come, and yes, shows them to our grandkids, I want her to see that.
The photographer takes the last few photographs, and then he leaves us alone on the grounds of the church. We stand on an ornamental bridge that crosses a little creek. Cherry blossom trees surround us, and the ground is layered with pink petals.
I spoke to the photographer this morning and explained the situation to him, so he knew to get our pictures done before he started on the rest of the wedding party so Zoe and I could at least have a few minutes to ourselves as man and wife.
“So,” Zoe says. “We have fifteen minutes before you have to leave. I’m sure I saw a shed back there. We could have a quickie and at least say we had sex on our wedding day.”
“Zoe, no,” I start.
She bursts out laughing, and I frown.
“Jeez Mac, I’m joking,” she says. “I just wanted to make you laugh. You look so angry.”
“I’m not angry,” I say. “I’m just … I’m letting you down.”
“No you’re not,” she says. “You’re fighting for your country. For our country, our futures. You’re a hero, Mac. How could that be letting me down?”
She reaches up and touches my face gently. I place my hand over hers, holding it against my cheek. Even now I feel my cock stirring when I feel her touch. I can see the love for me shining in her eyes, and I step closer to her and kiss her.
I kiss her as I’ve never kissed her before, pressing her back against the bridge, pressing my body against hers. I run my hands over her bare shoulders and up her neck. I roughly press my lips against hers, pushing my tongue deep into her mouth. I might not be able to claim her pussy before I leave her, but by fuck do I plan to claim that sensuous mouth, to give her something to remind her of me while I’m gone.
