Never Enough (The Enough Series Book 2)

by Taryn Steele

  “Oh, thank you so much. That means a lot, and thank you for letting Rory be our flower girl. She did great and looked adorable. I hope she had a good time.”

  The conversation is short and sweet, sealed with hugs goodbye and well wishes for Jameson and myself along with tips of what to go see on our honeymoon in Portugal. Sonia is Portuguese and visits her family there quite often so she helped us plan our honeymoon a lot. She also kindly helped us save a ton of money by letting us stay in her family home there. We would never be able to afford it otherwise.

  The car is loaded up with our wedding gifts, luggage, everything from the past two days to take home. Our flight to Portugal leaves tonight so we have a good portion of the day to unwind and get ready for our honeymoon.

  We aren’t home for more than an hour and the phone is already ringing. I look at the caller id box and see that it’s my mother. I can’t help but feel irritated that I haven’t been married for more than twenty four hours and she’s already calling. What could she possibly want right now that requires interrupting my pre-honeymoon time?

  “Hillary. Oh, you’re home. I didn’t expect you to answer.”

  I instantly roll my eyes at the tone in her voice. The fake shock routine stopped working on me years ago.

  “Then why did you call?” The reflexive answer comes out without a second for me to think.

  “Umm, well I just thought I would take a chance.”

  “We just got home a bit ago and have to unpack and then pack again. So, what’s up?” I ask sharply.

  “I wanted to come over and see your wedding gifts and cards and stuff. See who gave you what.”

  “I haven’t been married for more than a day and you want to come over to snoop through our gifts and cards? Seriously?” I can’t help but bark at her.

  “I’m just … curious.”

  “No mom, you’re being nosey. We have a lot to do and only have today to do it. I’m not going to tell you how much money people may or may not have put in their wedding card. When we come home I will show you what wrapped gifts we got.”

  My frustration level is through the roof. How could I go from cloud nine to wanting to punch a wall? Why did she have to call? Who does that? Is that normal, to call someone less than twenty-four hours after being married and invite yourself over to snoop through their gifts and look to see who gave how much money? Regardless, it’s not okay with me. Jameson and I have to put all of the gifts away, return his tux, hang up my dress, do laundry and pack.

  Our flight for Portugal leaves at 9:55p.m., with a three hour layover at the Gatwick Airport in the United Kingdom. At first I was upset about how long the layover was. I didn’t want to waste any time but Jameson helped me realize it would be good for us to get up, stretch, walk around and explore the U.K. for the first time together, even if it was only the airport. I’m so thankful I have him to help me see the brighter side of things.

  Fingers crossed sleep will find us on our flights.

  THE GATWICK AIRPORT is just like any other, hustling and bustling with travelers. We take the opportunity with our three hour layover to stretch our legs, walk around and grab a bite to eat. We come upon a restaurant with a large red banner and white lettering called Garfunkel’s, and decide to give it a shot. There’s a lot of people in there and they all appear to be smiling so that’s a good sign they aren’t disgusted with the service or the food. The atmosphere is welcoming, and working at a lighting company I always find myself looking toward the ceiling first. They have track lighting throughout and large, red lamp shades scattered here and there. My favorite is the oblong lighting above the tables that align with the balcony window, they almost look like lava lamps to me colored in green, orange, yellow and red.

  We are seated at a table for two by the bright balcony that offers an amazing view of the airport surroundings. Jameson loves to try new beer so he already has his mind made up when he sees London Pride on the menu. I’m going to play it safe with water for now. Scrolling through the menu Garfunkel’s has a lot to offer. Right now my stomach is telling me it wants a burger. Jameson looks under the British Favorites section reading aloud some of the options of Fish-n-Chips, Cottage Pie and Sausage & Mash, which is exactly what it is, sausage and mashed potatoes.

  “So did you decide on what you want to eat?” I ask Jameson.

  “You know I can’t pass up pie, even if it’s not yours if you know what I mean.”

  “This is why I married you. Only you can bring sexual innuendos into every single type of conversation, including ordering our food,” I tell him. We both can’t help but laugh.

  While we wait for our orders to arrive we make sure we have our tickets easily accessible for our next flight when we’re ready to board. Make a game plane for getting our luggage and a ride to the house. My number one priority is making sure I stop at a bathroom to pee before I get on another plane.

  “This beer isn’t all that bad. You would like it. Have a sip.”

  Before I take a sip I sniff the brew in the hopes that it will give me a small idea of what the beer might taste like. It smells malty. I think I smell citrus as well. I make a funny face at Jameson like I’m scared to taste it and he laughs. I put the bottle to my lips and take a sip. I let the cold liquid linger on my tongue for an extra second. It’s different but I like it. There’s a complex mix of malt, bitterness from the hops with some citrus; possibly some orange peel.

  A few short moments later the waiter arrives with our food. My burger looks delicious. It’s huge with cheese melting down the sides, and loaded with mouth-watering bacon. I’m in heaven. Jameson’s Cottage Pie is enormous and piping hot, heat is coming from it as soon as he stabs his fork in the center. The butter that tops the mashed potatoes is dripping into the center. The scent from the minced beef, onions and peas instantly hits your nose. It gives you that warm homemade feeling you would get eating at your grandma’s house on a Sunday afternoon.

  We keep our eye on the time even though we know we have time to enjoy our food. I think we are just anxious to get to Portugal.

  After we eat, we take a few minutes to look around some of the shops at Gatwick. I freeze when Jameson stops dead in his tracks. His warm eyes go large and his face now has a ridiculously huge smile. I look to see where his eyes have landed and I silently swear to myself. He sees a Ray Ban store. The worst part is that less than one hundred feet away I see two more sunglass stores. I see The Sunglass Hut and another store simply called Sunglasses. Seriously, that’s the name of the store “Sunglasses.” I can’t stop him. He is bee-lining it to Ray Ban. I laugh because all I can picture is a five year old boy running into a Toys-r-Us store. When I get in to the store I smile and shake my head at the sight I see. Jameson has two pairs of sunglasses in his hands, he keeps changing the sunglasses in his hands for different pairs while he checks himself out in the mirror. I have to admit, he does look damn sexy with silver trimmed, dark shades on. I can picture him now, bare chested on the beach in Portugal wearing them. Mmm! My lady parts are already tingling. I better stop now otherwise I might pull him in to the nearest bathroom and take him right then and there, with the sunglasses on.

  He must sense me watching him because he turns to look at me and smiles. I give him a thumbs up telling him I like the shades. With no words spoken he puts the other two back and pays for the silver trimmed glasses.

  We walk out of the store hand in hand to board the plane for what I hope will be a perfect and adventurous honeymoon.

  ALGARVE, PORTUGAL IS THE southernmost province with the most annual sunshine hours in Europe. The beaches are also some of the most beautiful with secluded coves and crystal clear water. When Sonia offered her family house to us for our honeymoon as a wedding gift I was elated. It was a dream come true honeymoon spot. When we were driving to her home in Almancil, which is part of Algarve, I was in a wanna-be photographers heaven. I was taking pictures of everything. The sparkling white houses, the latticed chimneys, the white domed buildings, the
breathtaking multi-hued cliffs, the town is full of character with its narrow, cobblestone streets and almond trees.

  After driving through the hilly and wooded area, we arrive at the house. I am as giddy as a school girl. I exit the rental car and jump up and down. You might as well put pigtails in my hair with pink ribbons so I can play the complete part. I don’t care. I am beyond excited. This house is amazing, not at all what I expected. Standing outside, hand in hand we look up at the home and all of its surroundings. Staring up at the two story house I can see at least one terrace to my left facing the back of the house, the bright white accent trim shines brightly at me while the beige hues have me feeling warm and happy. We stare straight ahead at the massive wooden doors to our temporary home and giggle. As soon as Jameson fishes the keys out of his pocket that Sonia gave us his cell phone starts ringing. Who would be calling him on his honeymoon? He looks down at his phone and immediately puts it back in his pocket.

  “Who was that?”

  He rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t have to answer me now, I already know. As soon as he’s about to respond the phone notification beeps that he has a new voicemail. I intuitively roll my eyes; it comes naturally when it comes to her.

  “My mother.”

  “Un-Fucking-Believable,” I retort, shaking my head at Marcie’s attempt at interrupting our honeymoon.

  “Let’s go in,” I quickly say to recover from the momentary cellular visit from Hell.

  He turns to me and smiles with a silent thank you for dropping the Marcie phone call that only I can read in his eyes. He grabs my hand, gives it a slight squeeze and leads me forward to the entrance.

  Opening the door and stepping in the first few steps I am in awe. My eyes immediately go to the massive open floors covered in beige marble, and a marble staircase straight ahead to match. Walking in a few more steps we turn our heads to the left and walk in to the living room, where the marble floors continue. A large flat screen television sits on a dark wood entertainment stand, surrounded by a tan, microfiber sofa with a chaise and two black leather recliner chairs next to it. I cannot take my eyes off of the fireplace surrounded by dark red bricks. It’s the one thing missing in our home that I wanted. With our eyes still large and doe eyed we continue through the house and into the kitchen. I feel as though I walked in to an IKEA store. Do they have those here in Portugal? The cheerful white cabinets cover the walls, but it’s the smooth, dark granite counter tops that scream my name. I run my hand along the cool top of the center island when I turn the corner and see that the back portion of it is open and filled with wine bottles.

  “Holy hell, I’ve died and gone to wine heaven!” I shout to no one in particular.

  Jameson turns his head to see what I’m shouting about, and starts laughing. He walks into the dining room and we notice it is connected to the living room. I didn’t even notice the door in the far corner of the room. It’s an average size dining room adorned with a dark glass table for eight. I can’t help but fall in love with the dark red shag area rug protecting the marble floors from the chairs.

  “Jameson, I have to pee really badly. Can we please find a bathroom?” I beg him.

  “Yeah, there’s gotta be one around here somewhere.”

  We turn back in to the kitchen and go through the main hall to see a smaller hallway off to the side with a closed door, so we take a look. Opening the door, staring straight at us is floor to ceiling marble, including the bathroom counter, but I can’t take my eyes off of the floor to ceiling glass shower that has two shower heads. Two shower heads! Who does that? This is crazy! The main one is as a big as my head.

  “This bathroom is immaculate. I’m scared to pee in here. Like I’m not worthy or something,” I admit.

  “Good Lord woman, just pee so we can check out the rest of this pad.”

  He walks out of the bathroom to leave me to my business so I hurry up as fast as I can. I love the sink. It reminds me of an enormous white porcelain cereal bowl just sitting atop the counter with the stainless faucet shooting straight out of the wall to fill your Fruit Loops with milk. As I make my way down the hallway I see Jameson waiting for me back at the main entrance by the staircase.

  “Ready to find the bedroom?” He asks.

  “Sonia said there were four of them and each one has its own bathroom, so let’s find the master!” I answer with elation.

  We follow our marble path down the hallway of the second floor to peek in to the first doorway on our right. There is a large padded, brown headboard attached to the white walls with two double beds with brown and orange inflections throughout the room. The second bedroom is almost identical, except instead of brown and orange accents it has red and black ones. There’s only one door left.

  “I thought you said there were four bedrooms?” Jameson asks.

  “Maybe we missed one downstairs? We walked through pretty quickly.”

  As we near the last door down the single hallway we see that it is already slightly ajar. Jameson grabs the gold door knob and pushes it open further. The walls are a very light beige. There is a large Mediterranean blue headboard affixed to the wall. The king size bed is covered by a tropical themed comforter. Stepping into the room further I see an attached door so naturally I go check it out.

  “Wow! Jameson, come check out this bathroom.”

  Dark beige marble cover the walls and the floors. The counter top and sink are just the same as downstairs except there are two, his and hers. I love it.

  “Hell yeah, a Jacuzzi tub!” Jameson shouts in pure delight. I can’t help but laugh.

  I turn to walk out to find the missing bedroom. I notice the light curtains blowing into the room. As I get closer that is when I notice the French doors behind them that open to a terrace. It takes my breath away. Jameson comes up from behind me, wraps his arms around my waist. No matter how many times he tells me how beautiful I am I can’t help still being partially body self-conscious. I still feel the need to suck in my stomach when he does that. I hope to move past that someday, it just won’t be today. He squeezes me tight, resting his chin on my shoulder then kisses my cheek.

  As we walk closer to the edge of the terrace, simultaneously we both say “Holy shit,” out loud. Looking down we see another slice of heaven to our honeymoon, a large patio decorated with lounge chairs, an in-ground pool, and a grill with a dining table and eight chairs covered with a slotted wooden pergola above. We giggle like school kids and run downstairs to go see up close. Knowing we must have missed something while rushing through the house when we first arrived we slow down to try to figure out how the hell we can get out there. Just like upstairs, the curtains were hiding the French doors in the kitchen that lead to the outside.

  Our hands immediately shade our eyes from the bright sunlight. Stepping around the corner from the outside wall of the kitchen we instantly see the blue water lapping in the pool with three lounge chairs nearby. Finishing the walk to the rest of the patio we find the grill, table and chairs we saw from our above terrace. I’m happily overwhelmed. The entire scene is so welcoming and tranquil.

  “Is this cool or what, wifey?”

  “It’s pretty frickin’ awesome.”

  He grabs me by the waist again to give me a loving squeeze, again I tense up and suck in my stomach.

  “Stop that,” he mumbles in my ear.

  “Stop what?”

  “Sucking in your stomach. Do you honestly think I can’t tell? I know you have years of abuse under your belt of being told and feeling you aren’t good enough, but how long do I have to keep reminding you and telling you that you are? I love you. I love your body. I love everything about you. I don’t want you to hide yourself from me. I’m the last person you should do that with.”

  I drop my head knowing he’s right. I hate when he’s right – but I can’t shut this off. This. This thing. This feeling. This torture. This mind fuck I feel like I have no control over but at the same time know that I’m the onl
y one with the control.

  “Hil’” he says softly lifting up my chin to meet his gaze. “I want so much for you. I want so much for us. Mostly importantly I want your self-esteem to grow, and I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

  I’m speechless.

  “Right now though, I want this off,” he says pulling my shirt over my head exposing my white, lacy floral bra. “And I want these off,” he grabs at my blue jean shorts pulling them down to my ankles. “I want every inch of you, skin on skin. I’m on fire right now I want you so badly Hillary.”

  Jesus Christ I am so turned on right now. I don’t feel even a little self-conscious about standing out here half naked with God knows who can see me, see us. I can feel his hardness pressing up against me. It’s making me so fucking wet. I put my hand on his chest, right over his heart. It’s beating so fast.

  “You feel my heart racing? It’s because of you. It’s because I want you. I want to fuck you right here on this lounge chair and I know you want it too.” He grabs a handful of my ass and starts walking me backwards and pushes me down onto one of the blue lounge chairs. Like a savage he rips his t-shirt off and throws it to the ground. Snaking up my body he reaches for my panties and pulls them down my legs right off of me, tossing them to the side with his shirt. I can feel fire blazing through my body. My lady parts are going off like candy pop rocks. I sit up to unhook my bra. Once I complete that I grab at his shorts and pull them down as fast as I can. He’s going commando. Fuck his cock is magnificent. I don’t think I’ve been this horny in my life. I grab his butt cheeks and push him toward my mouth. Every exquisite, fucking inch of him. I want it in my mouth. No amount of pain from the past can take this moment away. Nothing could stop me from enjoying this, from enjoying him. I take him as far back in my mouth as I can, swirling my tongue on the tip, savoring every flavor of him. His moaning is turning me on even more than I already am. I’m aching for my own release, so much so I’m about to touch myself. Something that’s never crossed my mind. Jameson starts rocking his hips and I find myself doing the same. I can feel him quivering in my mouth.