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“Damn,” I murmured, reaching for him. “Is it time for the honeymoon yet?”
He dodged around me. “There won’t be a honeymoon if you touch me right now. We’re running late.” Beckett pulled his shirt over his head, his words muffled as he continued. “Besides, I’m filthy!”
“Well, you know I love my filthy slut,” I said playfully.
“Ha. Well, this filthy slut needs a shower, and you need to get your sexy ass into that tuxedo.”
I followed him into the bathroom, watching as he kicked off his shoes and shoved his jeans down, admiring the flex of his back muscles and the bunching of his glutes as he undressed and started the shower.
“Where were you anyway? I thought you just ran out to check on the cake?”
“I did,” he said. “But then I ran into Iola, and we got to talking…”
“Uh-oh. Was it another guilt trip?”
“Oh yeah.” He pulled the shower curtain aside and stepped under the spray. “She’s very disappointed I didn’t tell her I was into men. Shedefinitelywould have matched us up otherwise, because she knows a perfect match when she sees it!”
I laughed. “So…how does that explain you being all sweaty?”
He grimaced. “I sort of volunteered to mow her lawn real quick.”
“Seriously? On ourwedding day?”
“I didn’t know how else to get out of the conversation! Mowing seemed quicker.”
I chuckled. “Well, that’s fitting. You got into the matchmaker mess by mowing, and now you’re getting out the same way.”
“Maybe,” he said, voice muffled by the fall of water. “Something tells me Iola has alongmemory.”
He ducked his head under the water to shampoo, and I retreated to dress in the formal black tux hanging on my closet door. Beckett joined me soon enough, dressing in a navy blue tux fitted to his torso in all the right ways.
“You look stunning.”
His cheeks reddened. “Stop it.”
“It’s funny that you blush at that, but not when I call you a filthy slut.”
He laughed. “Shut up.”
I pulled him into my arms and cupped his face. “You’re my beautiful slut too, you know. You should own it.”
His eyes were warm. “You should put that in the vows.”
“Oh, I did. Don’t worry.”
He laughed and pushed me away to grab his shoes. “You better be joking.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“The honeymoon might be a little chilly if you do,” he warned, eyes narrowed.
I rubbed my hands together. “I can’t wait to get you back in the city of sin! This time I’m going to press you right up to one of those hotel windows and fuck you while the whole city watches.”
“Fucking hell,” Beckett muttered, pressing the heel of his hand to his crotch. “Can we save the dirty talk for the actual honeymoon at least.”
I grinned. “I’ll try, but no promises. You make me want to say dirty things to you all the time.”
“One of the things I love about you,” he said. “You look really gorgeous too, Wes. I should say it more often.”
