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Nine years ago—Bellagio, Las Vegas
We stumble through the door of our suite, kissing feverishly and pulling at each other’s clothes. My skin heats under his touch. I’m addicted to the way my body responds to him.
He skims his hands over my silk bra under my shirt. We both take turns drinking from the whiskey bottle. He licks the alcohol from my chin, a growl escapes his lips, and my nipples tighten.
I’m tugging his shirt out of his jeans and he chuckles when I swear, trying to open his buttons.
“Man, how can I get it off? My hands are shaking.” I giggle.
We are both nervous. It is my first time and our first time making love as husband and wife.
My stomach drops while an evil smile forms on my face. All the men in my life are going to have a field day with Navarone when they find out we tied the knot.
“What’s that smile?” he asks, covering my small hands with his big calloused fingers.
“I was thinking about the guys.”
He groans, brushing both hands through his hair. “Fuck my life, they are going to kill my ass when they find out we got hitched.” He swallows hard as we make our way to the enormous bed in the middle of the room.
“You’ll be okay, being a certified badass and all,” I say, pursing my lips, and tugging his shirt over his head. Without thinking, I let my fingers move over the lines of his stomach, following the trail of dark hair, loving that this man is all mine. When I skim his erection with my nails, his intake of breath sounds like music to my ears. I cover the bulge in his pants with my hand, moving back and forth, feeling him from top to bottom.
His head falls forward into the crook of my neck. “Babe, you make me burn.”
I giggle. “That would make a good line in a country song,” I say, pulling my shirt over my head. Navarone groans, staring at my white bra.
His fingers trace the line of my nipple through the fabric. Winking at me, he says, “I guess it would.” His calloused palm moves down to the zipper of my black leather pants, cupping my pussy.
Sitting back on his haunches, he pulls on the fabric. With my hands on his shoulders, I step out of my shoes and kick the pants to the side. We stand there staring at each other in our underwear, our eyes roaming over each other’s bodies.
Brushing his hair back, he smiles at me. “Fuck. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He gives me a kiss and leaves me alone in bed. “Need to find a condom,” he tells me, walking around the bedroom.
A groan escapes my lips as I follow him with my eyes. I’m in love with his tight ass. I snicker when our eyes meet in the mirror.
“What was that?” he asks, taking a sip from the whiskey bottle.
“Admiring your ass,” I say, sitting back against the fluffy pillows.
“This ass is yours. Yours to do with whatever you want,” he drawls, taking off his boxers and throwing them in my face.
I burst out laughing, dropping them to the floor. He raises his left eyebrow and his face splits into a grin, he grabs the Jack Daniels we bought, and drowns half before handing the bottle to me. I swallow a couple times and set it on the floor.
God, I love him. I pull the blanket over my body. He is everything I ever wanted. Sure, he is a badass who doesn’t show his emotions to others, but with me he is sweet, funny, and so fucking sexy. And he is all mine. He has been all along.
Leaning against the counter, he throws the condom on the nightstand. I get the full-frontal view of him all gloriously naked, hardening when his hungry gaze roams over my body hidden under the covers. Probably thinking about what we are going to do.
He hands me the bottle and I take a long swig, the taste of Jack Daniel’s burning my throat.
He drains the rest, and places it on the bedside table. Leaning down, he throws back the sheets, and pulls me toward his eager mouth while unhooking my bra.
“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.
He kisses the side of my mouth, then my cheek, following a path to my exposed throat. His tongue traces the goose bumps covering my body. His cock twists against his stomach. “I don’t fucking deserve you. Do you know what a lucky son of a bitch you’ve made me?”
He keeps his gaze locked on mine, and smirks. “So which one do you like better, my ass or my dick?”
I let my hands skim the curve of his ass and pinch a little. “It’s a toss-up.” A slow smile breaks my face in two.
He growls and I love the feeling it gives me, being wanted and desired.
