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I doze off for an hour. Gwen taps on my arm. I pull out my earbuds. My headache is gone.
“Is it true that you paid for Evie Bliss’s breast implants?”
“Yeah, so what?”
I am sick of hearing about Evie Bliss!
“You know I saw her on some TV show. She was awful. Maybe you should have paid for her to have acting lessons instead.”
I ignore her.
“Do you miss her?” Gwen asks.
“I miss the sex.” I confess.
That ought to shut her up.
“You can always masturbate. Masturbation is the sexual stimulation of one's own genitals for sexual arousal or other sexual pleasure, usually to the point of orgasm.”
I sigh. This must be payback for eye fucking Karin.
“Gwen, I am not a 13-year-old boy! Besides, I don’t need to. I can fuck you when I get horny, that is what a wife is for.”
I am hoping my response will stop her annoying questions.When are we going to land?
“I know. I can’t wait to for you to make love to me! I can’t wait to feel you on top of me. I know I will be writhing in pleasure and screaming, ‘oh Bobby, don’t stop, please don’t stop, you are such a magnificent lover, I will never want another man, Oh Bobby’..” Gwen is moaning and laughing.
“Do you think this is funny? Do you think this is a joke?”
Now I am angry.How dare she make fun of me.
Gwen shrugs and rolls her eyes.
I want to put her over my knee and spank her. A mafia wife is supposed to be compliant. Do her duty. Obey me. I have not even been married 24 hours and I want to strangle her. I put my earbuds back in and listen to music.Frank Sinatra, very funny.
The pilot announces we were landing. Finally.
Gwen
The plane lands. Finally.
Airplane ride?Nightmare! Bobby barely speaks to me. He is attracted to that flight attendant. That woman is all over him! She is Bobby’s type. I see how he watches her. I want him to look at me that way. Talk to me. Get to know me. Hah! That man is more interested in his cellphone!
Karin hugs Bobby and whispers in his ear before we take the stairs down to the tarmac. She smashes her breasts into his chest. OMG! Not as big as mine though. One consolation. No doubt he will have sex with her on his next flight when I am not with him. I already want to go home.
At least, this Caribbean Island is beautiful. Clear skies. Sunny. Hot. Humid. Perfect location for a 4-day, romantic honeymoon. Too bad I will not be having one!Honeymoon?Yes.Romance?No.
Two limousines meet us on the tarmac. Bobby opens the door for me on the first limo. I get in and move away from him as far as possible. The goon squad gets in the second limo.
The limos drive about twenty minutes to our resort. The scenery is breath-taking. Palm trees. Beaches. Ocean. 5-star resorts. Our resort is luxurious. Main hotel. Pools. Restaurants. Nightclubs. Tennis courts. Golf course. Spa.
Bobby reserved a private, secluded, beach house on the ocean. Four bedrooms. Fully stocked kitchen and bar. Dining Room. Private beach. Zero-depth swimming pool. Outdoor sitting area with luxurious sofas. Trays of fresh fruit, cheeses, and crackers have been laid out in the kitchen and by the pool. Several Bottles of champagne are chilling in the wine refrigerator.
The house is open – only the bedrooms have doors and windows. The entire beach house is decorated in shades of white with rattan furniture throughout. The master bedroom has a king-sized canopy bed, huge bathroom with a walk-in shower and separate bathtub. The tub and shower can hold a small army.
Each bodyguard takes a small bedroom. I wish I could have my own bedroom. I do not want to share a bed with Bobby. I don’t want to fulfil my wifely duties. Especially after he ogled that flight attendant. I do not ask for my own bedroom because I am sure he will get angry. He is cruel when he gets angry. His gangster side comes out.
Bobby and his men sit in the living room drinking, talking, and eating. Everyone is ignoring me. I am going to the beach. Alone.
