A Wedding to Remember

by Joanna Sims

  “Come with me!” she called to Bruce.

  Her husband sat down on a chaise lounge chair on their private deck, removed his boots and socks and followed her out to the beach.

  Savannah tilted her head back, suddenly not feeling the least bit fatigued from the nearly twelve-hour plane ride, reached out her arms and spun around in the sand.

  “I am so happy!”

  Bruce scooped her up and continued to spin her. They both ended up dizzy and laughing, sitting on the beach.

  “We are in paradise together,” she said in amazement.

  “Yes, we are.”

  Savannah linked her arm with her husband’s and dug her toes into the white, sugary sand. “You know I’m going to sunbathe on this beach in the altogether, don’t you?”

  Bruce squinted his eyes against the sun. “I know.”

  “I think you should get naked with me—let it all hang out.”

  “I think that’s a solid ‘no.’” Her husband’s answer was swift. “All of my altogether will be neatly tucked away in proper attire.”

  Savannah jumped up, started to walk down to the water’s edge and called out to him, “You know what, Brand? You can be a real prude.”

  Bruce followed her, scooped her up in his arms and began to run toward the water.

  “Are you ready to get wet?”

  Savannah squealed, kicked her legs and laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted to make sure that if she ended up in the water, Bruce ended up in the water with her.

  Her husband carried her into the water, turned around so his back was to the water and sank down with her still in his arms. Wet, fully clothed, they wrapped their arms around each other and kissed the water from their lips.

  Savannah felt her husband’s arousal, so hard, so fast. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and pressed her groin to his.

  “Okay—we need to either, one, go back to our villa—” she licked the salty water from his neck and nibbled his ear “—or, make love to me right here, right now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  They did consummate their vow renewal that night, in the balmy air drifting into their bure while they bound their bodies together and loved each other as an expression of their deep and abiding connection. And then they slept. Nothing had ever felt so peaceful, being lulled to sleep in their king-sized bed, with a rhythmic breeze brushing over their bodies bringing a scent of tropical flowers, growing wild all around the bure, mingled with the fresh, salty smell of the water of the Pacific Rim.

  Savannah rolled over onto her back, bringing one of her three pillows with her. She blinked her eyes several times, trying to adjust them to the bright light being brought into the villa by the late-morning sun.

  “What time is it?” Her voice sounded a little raspy, and she prayed that she was just tired from the past months of her life instead of experiencing the first sign of an “airplane cold.”

  Bruce was sitting at the built-in desk, looking at his laptop. “Eleven-fifteen.”

  “Oh, my God,” She yawned loudly, stretched and then turned on her side and snuggled back into the mattress and pillows. “I can’t believe I slept that long. When did you get up?”

  Her husband had yet to turn toward her, his attention still mainly on the computer screen.

  “Around nine. I went for a walk around the island.”

  “Did you eat?”

  He nodded.

  “Well...” She yawned again. “I’m starving.”

  Another nod.

  This would not do! They were literally in paradise—her husband was going to unplug from technology while they were there. Savannah threw back the covers, forced herself to get her body moving as she swung her legs out of bed. Naked, she walked over to where Bruce was sitting, gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, before she reached over his shoulder, slammed the laptop shut and then took it.

  “Hold up!” Bruce finally turned to look at her. “I was answering an email.”

  “No,” she said forcefully, holding the laptop behind her back. “We are in Fiji! You need to stop working on things that can keep for two weeks and focus all of your attention on what really matters.”

  As if noticing for the first time that she was standing naked before him, Bruce’s eyes swept over her body, lingering on her breasts, the curve of her waist, and the small patch of hair at the spot where her thighs met.

  “What’s that?” Bruce’s slightly narrowed, sexually interested gaze was back on her eyes.

  “Me.” Savannah laughed. She clutched the laptop to her chest, spun around and ran to the other side of the bed.

  Bruce always loved a good chase, and he easily caught her near the bed and pulled the laptop out of her hands—but instead of taking the computer back to the desk, he put it on the night table and took her to bed instead.

  Her pushed her back onto the mattress playfully; one breast he massaged in a way he knew she enjoyed, while he began to kiss the other breast, taking the nipple into his mouth.

  Laughing, Savannah escaped from his grasp. “You’ve got to feed me first, Brand. I need energy to keep up with you!”

  Their Bure Mama made sure she had a breakfast fit for a queen brought to the villa. Savannah feasted on passion fruit, guavas, star fruit and papayas. She drank two large cups of coffee, and then she felt ready to get up and enjoy the natural gifts of Turtle Island.

  Dressed in a modest bikini, Savannah handed her husband a bottle of sunscreen. He was dressed in a T-shirt, bathing suit trunks and his standard boots had been replaced with a pair of flip-flops.

  “You do me, and then I’ll do you.”

  Living in Montana, even during the summer months, there were places on their bodies that just didn’t see the light of day. They both had superpale legs and stomachs, while their necks and arms were a shade or two darker.

  “We have to really work hard not to get burned,” she told him while he rubbed coconut-scented sunscreen on her back, her derriere and her shoulders.

  They went down to their private beach, which made it seem like they were the only two humans in the Garden of Eden. The Bure Mama had a two-person lounge chair brought to their private beach at their request.

  “Oh, Bruce.” Savannah sighed, her eyes closed, the sun on her face. “Thank you.”

  In response, her husband took her hand and squeezed her fingers, his version of “you’re welcome.” Their first full day on the South Sea island paradise was perfection; they relaxed, vacillating between the lounge chair and the cooling sea-foam-green and turquoise-blue water. Every second of that first day was theirs; no schedule, no reminders of the past, no stress. Just the two of them, together, in what had to be one of the most beautiful places on the planet.

  After a day at the beach, they took showers and got dressed for a surprise planned by Bruce. Feeling more free and sensual on this remote South Sea island than she had at any other time in her life, Savannah slipped into a lightweight minidress with spaghetti straps. Her legs had been turned gold with a pink undertone, but it didn’t hurt. She opted to go commando beneath her dress and as she turned around in front of the mirror, making the filmy skirt of her dress float away from her body, she felt so sexy. She hoped Bruce agreed.

  Hand in hand, they walked down to the water’s edge of the island’s Blue Lagoon, a cove protected from the waves, and that was when she saw a pontoon floating in the calm water, with a table for two, lit only by lanterns lining the boat.

  “Is that for us?” Savannah squeezed her husband’s hand in excitement.

  “Yes.” Bruce sounded proud of himself for keeping the secret—and for pleasing her.

  A boat carried them to the pontoon; their food would also be brought to them by the same boat. Together, by the light of the lanterns, they feasted on seafood and
vegetables picked that day from the island’s garden. They filled their bellies with Pacific green lobster, cooked to perfection, and caught a nice buzz from the sweet red wine.

  Their empty plates had been removed, and now they sat at their table with a 360-degree water view, drinking a last glass of wine.

  “I will never forget this, Bruce,” she whispered, feeling like the space was too sacred to speak in a full voice.

  “You deserve this, my love.” They touched glasses one last time. “Here’s to second chances.”

  “Yes,” she agreed softly. “To second chances.”

  * * *

  They walked back to their villa from the Blue Lagoon, and once again, they were completely alone. Savannah had kicked off her sandals and was dangling them from two fingers, swinging them as they walked the beach. Hand in hand, they strolled along the water’s edge, with the only light given off by the nearly full moon hanging in the clear night sky.

  They reached the part of the beach directly in front of their villa.

  “Let’s get a towel and sit on the beach,” she suggested.

  She was glad that her rancher, who was typically set in his ways as far as extracurricular activities, was being more open to her ideas than usual. Bruce put on his swim trunks, just in case they wanted to get into the water, and picked up a couple of towels for them.

  Savannah chose a spot close enough to the water to enjoy the sound of the gentle waves rolling to shore, but far enough away that they wouldn’t get wet if they chose to stay dry. Perhaps it was the dreamlike, mystic charm of the island, or perhaps it was the fact that she was in a place where her wildest desires were possible, but Savannah felt like she couldn’t put off the experience of being her natural self in this place that was raw and wild in a way that she had never known before. Savannah stood up and pulled her dress over her head and dropped it onto the towel at her feet.

  She closed her eyes, stretched her arms high above her head, her naked flesh completely exposed to the elements. Empowered and free. These were the two words that came to mind as she stood, unclothed, with the soft ocean breeze brushing over her breasts, her thighs, her face.

  Bruce was quiet beside her; he didn’t approve, but he wasn’t going to try to stop her. This was one of her bucket list items; he knew her well enough to know that she knew her own mind, and she followed her own heart.

  “Bruce!” She stepped off the towel and sank her toes into the cool, damp sand. “You should try this!”

  “I’ll live vicariously through you, my love.” He had leaned back on his elbow and was admiring the view of her naked body in the moonlight.

  “You’d love it.” She spun around, her arms open wide.

  “I love you.”

  * * *

  One of the most memorable moments of his life, he was certain of it, was watching his wife, naked as the day she was born, wearing only her heart-shaped diamond and a smile, frolicking on their Fijian beach. This trip had set him back a pretty penny, but it was worth everything he had spent and more. Money could not buy the happiness on Savannah’s face; she was like a kid in a proverbial candy store. She wanted to taste everything, make friends with all of the Fijian people, drink as much as she could manage and experience every activity the island had to offer. She already had them scheduled for couples Lomi Lomi massages and Ulumu facials at the resort spa; she had also signed them up for snorkeling, a sunset cruise, windsurfing lessons and stand-up paddleboard lessons. He’d rather not tackle any of those activities, but he wanted to please Savannah. He wanted to make her smile and then keep her smiling. So he’d had to hang up his cowboy hat and put up his cowboy boots, and learn how to step out of his Montana rancher box.

  “You’re beautiful!” he called out to Savannah, who was currently executing rather impressive naked cartwheels and handstands.

  He was always turned on by his wife’s naked body; this moment was no different. Bruce had to shift his position to make the erection in his swim trunks a little less annoying. There was no way the hard-on was going away; he couldn’t keep his eyes off Savannah. Her sun-kissed flesh in the moonlight, her hair blowing wildly around her pretty face, her breasts bouncing enticingly with every step she took.

  Bruce stood up and walked over to Savannah, who was standing at the water’s edge, letting the ocean lap over her bare feet.

  From behind, he wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her sweet-smelling neck.

  Savannah reached up and put her hands on his arms, leaning her body back. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Bruce, unable to wait a minute longer to have her, lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the towel. He laid her down on her back, lightly running his hand over her breasts, her stomach, until his fingers were nested between her thighs.

  “Hmm.” Savannah arched her back and tilted her hips upward toward his hand. “Yes, please.”

  Bruce then did something he swore he wouldn’t do—he untied his swimming trunks and stripped them off. The more he watched his wife playing on the beach, her naked body glowing in the yellow light, the more he wanted to make love to her right here, on this secluded spot.

  “You’re so handsome.” Savannah admired him through heavy-lidded eyes.

  He lay down beside her, leaned on one elbow so he could hover just above her, and kissed her with all of the pent-up passion he felt. She reached between them to wrap her fingers around his hard penis; he reached between them so he could slip his fingers in her hot, slick center.

  She stretched for him, pulling him forward, signaling that she was ready for more—that she needed more. Quietly, their breaths mingling as they gently kissed each other’s lips, Bruce guided himself into her body, joining them as one being. Buried all the way inside of his wife, he lifted himself up, his elbows locked so he could watch her face. Every little movement of hips made her gasp.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he asked her, their eyes locked in the moonlight.

  “Yes.” She gasped again, reaching for him, pulling him downward so he would give her the weight of his body.

  They moved together, adopting the rolling rhythm of the ocean, each giving the other as much pleasure as they received. She came first, her cry of ecstasy caught by the breeze.

  “I feel you,” Savannah whispered into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “I feel you.”

  Those sensual whispers sent him over the edge; he thrust deep inside of her and exploded with a primal scream, unlike any sound he’d ever made during lovemaking in his life.

  Savannah had her legs wrapped around his back as he let her take his weight, for just a minute, while he caught his breath. Holding on to her, he rolled their bodies so she was on top of him, her head on his chest, his nose breathing in the coconut scent in her hair.

  “That was amazing.” Savannah laughed, her fingers buried in his chest hair.

  “Agreed.”

  They stayed on the beach, curled in each other’s arms, until they were both so tired that they feared falling asleep there. Groggy and satiated, they ambled back to their villa, rinsed the sugary sand off their bodies and then climbed, completely spent, into the canopy king-sized bed.

  * * *

  “Well?” Savannah was staring at him like a cat watching a fishbowl.

  “What do you want me to say?” he asked her.

  They had just had their Lomi Lomi massages, considered to be an ancient healing massage, a living Aloha, first practiced in Hawaii.

  “Did you like it?”

  Bruce was glad to be dressed again; he wanted to get the heck out of the Vonu Spa.

  Savannah’s face was glowing from her facial, and she seemed to be perfectly languid and relaxed by the Lomi Lomi.

  Now outside of the spa and far away from any ears that could be offended by what he was about t
o say, Bruce said in a harsh whisper, “They double teamed me!”

  Savannah laughed, her head thrown back, her eyes twinkling at his obvious distress and discomfort.

  “Four hands. Four hands!” He hadn’t really been all that thrilled with two strange hands massaging him; his wife had been very strategic about not telling him that there would be four strange hands involved in the Lomi Lomi.

  “They touched my feet! Both of them.”

  “Both of your feet? Or both women?”

  “Both!” he snapped. “It felt like an assault!”

  Savannah kept on laughing; she grabbed his hand and swung their arms.

  “You’ll be fine,” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes. “It was good for you.”

  “Says who?”

  It took several tropical fruit drinks and a lunch of freshly caught fish to help him recover from his “healing” massage. After lunch, they did something that he had been wanting to do: visit the island’s black volcanic cliffs. They took a tour of the cliffs, snapping copious amounts of pictures to post to social media so their friends and family could share in their adventure. After the volcanic cliffs, and now being one week into their two-week vacation, Savannah was starting to crave the company of their fellow Turtle Islanders. They got cleaned up from the day and dressed for the group dinner provided by the resort every night. This would be their first group dinner, and Savannah was beaming with excitement.

  “They are going to have native music and dancers perform for us,” she told him. “I can’t wait. Aren’t you excited?”

  He raised his eyebrows at his wife, who seemingly could get excited about the smallest of things. “I can’t wait.”

  She rolled her eyes at his lack of enthusiasm, which she had to accept as part of who he was, gripped his arm with her hands and bumped her shoulder into his. “Don’t worry. You’re gonna love it. I promise.”