by Lexie Ray
Collier saw us to the car and put us in it.
“You’re not coming to the airport?” I asked him.
“I intend to give you newlyweds as much time together as possible,” he said. “Jonathan, call if you need anything. I’ll email you some pointers that you can access once you’re airborne.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Jonathan said, hugging him. “I’m going to make this right.”
“You already have,” Collier said. “I’m so proud of you.”
When Collier closed the car door, I couldn’t stop the tears that leaked down my cheeks, my only comfort the fact that Rowan had guaranteed that my makeup wouldn’t smudge. I had no idea I was going to be doing so much crying on my wedding day.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Jonathan said, holding me and rocking me in his arms as he rolled up the partition that separated us from the driver. “I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea something like this was going to happen. I’m so sorry. I hope you don’t think I’ve ruined everything.”
“Of course I don’t,” I sniffled, kissing him. Truth be told, I felt sorry for myself. Just when I thought I finally had Jonathan all to myself, Wharton Group was yanking him out of my arms.
“It won’t take any longer than a month, I’m sure,” Jonathan said, rubbing my bare arms in the coolness of the car.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, trying to smile for him. I didn’t want his last memory before leaving to try to defend his job to be of his weeping wife.
“The moment I get back in the country, we’ll go to the cottage,” he vowed. “Have your bags packed. We can take a helicopter, even, to get their sooner, and have somebody drop a car off for us.”
I had to laugh a little through my misery. “You have it all planned out, don’t you?”
“I just don’t want to make you upset,” Jonathan said. “I mean, I know I’ve upset you. I just want you to know that it’s not always going to be like this. I’m going to show these sons of bitches who’s boss, and then we’re going to start our lives together.”
“You haven’t upset me,” I sighed, nestling closer to him and wishing selfishly for traffic to get worse so we could have a little bit longer together. “I’m upset that anyone could think you’re not fit to lead Wharton Group. They haven’t seen what I’ve seen—how hard you’re working. You have my vote of confidence.”
Jonathan smiled and loosened his bowtie. “That’s all that really matters to me, then,” he said. “But I do have to do this tour. It’s my family’s livelihood, after all. I want to give you everything, baby.”
“All I want is you,” I said, kissing him. “You’re everything. You’re everything and you’re all that matters.”
Jonathan held my face in his hands as he kissed me. Our lips parted, and he brushed his fingers lightly over my dress.
“This is beautiful,” he said. “I only wish that I could undress you tonight, after it’s all over.”
“You don’t have to undress me to enjoy what’s underneath,” I said coyly, shifting until I straddled his lap. He reached beneath my dress until I felt his fingers against my bare lips.
“Michelle!” he scolded, grinning. “No panties on our wedding day? My scandalous wife.”
For all his fussing, Jonathan’s cock was hard as steel, pressing against me in the most delicious ways. He swirled his fingers over my clitoris, but he needn’t have bothered. I was already wet with just the thought of him knowing I’d gone without underwear throughout the entire ceremony, in front of hundreds of strangers. I had kind of surprised myself, too, but I figured the risk would be well worth the reward when Jonathan unwrapped his wedding present after the reception: me.
Of course, now everything had changed, and we had to make the best of it.
“Do you think we can pull it off?” I asked, jerking my thumb over my shoulder to indicate the presence of the driver just a few feet away.
“The partition’s soundproof,” Jonathan said, kissing my throat. “It’s meant to assure privacy if you’re doing business back here.”
“Well, we are,” I said. “We have wedding business to take care of.”
“Business and pleasure,” he countered, raking his teeth over my neck. I shuddered and gave myself over to him. We hadn’t really stopped having sex prior to the wedding, not seeing a reason to deprive ourselves. But it was still more intense than usual. Maybe it was the fact that we were gearing up to have sex in a car just a couple of feet from the driver. I remembered the thrill we’d had when we made love in Jonathan’s office after the picnic lunch.
But I think the intensity this evening was brought on more by the fact that we were married. We’d officially united our lives and souls, and now we were physically uniting for the first time as man and wife in the eyes of God and men.
It would be the first time, and the only time for quite a while. I wanted to make it count.
Jonathan entered me smoothly, sliding right in as I sat astride. It felt so good to be filled with him, so right to join my body with his. I didn’t even bother trying to smother my wanton moan as he began to move, each thrust infinitely enhanced by the vibrations of the wheels and roadway beneath us. I wanted to lose myself in this, have this be the only thing that mattered, but I couldn’t help thinking that we were getting closer and closer to the airport by the minute. I was going to lose him.
“Stay with me, baby,” he chanted, pumping into me. “Stay right here with me.”
“I’m here,” I panted. “I’m here.”
He pressed his thumb against my clitoris again and again, in time with his thrusts, and I came helplessly, sobbing my release, tears of both joy and sorrow spilling down my cheeks. If my makeup came away intact after this, I was going to sing Rowan’s praises. Multiple tear-proof and sex-proof styling? The woman would deserve a medal or something.
Jonathan groaned for a long time as he spilled his seed inside of me. I reveled in the wetness. My one comfort would be that I could keep some of his essence with me when he was gone, flying across the world.
We exited off the interstate for the airport, and my heart sank even with the distraction of having to rearrange ourselves to look like we hadn’t just been having sex in the back of the car.
When we reached the facility, we drove through a gate and right onto the tarmac.
“Curbside service?” I asked, looking around. “I’ve never experienced this.”
“I’m sure I have, but it’s a first for me now,” Jonathan said, taking my hand and squeezing it.
The car rolled up to a jet emblazoned with Wharton Group and the company’s logo. We were definitely at the right plane. I found myself wanting to drag each and every moment out as long as possible, wishing for the car to never come to a complete stop, wishing the driver would take his time about opening the door for us, wishing the pilot would forget something back in the terminal and stride off in a different direction, any direction, except toward us.
“Just in time, Mr. Wharton,” the pilot called, walking across the tarmac as Jonathan helped me out of the car. “We were beginning to get worried about you.”
“Terrible traffic,” Jonathan said, somehow managing to keep a straight face as I hid my smile behind my hand. “Are we all set?”
“We are, indeed,” the pilot said, shaking Jonathan’s hand first, then kissing mine gallantly. “I understand that congratulations are in order, Mr. and Mrs. Wharton.”
“Thank you,” I said, mustering a smile even though I knew every passing second meant a second closer to Jonathan leaving. The thought filled my eyes with tears, and my husband noticed right away.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he said, holding me to him. “Remember. It’ll only be for a little while, and then we’ll be back together.”
“I know,” I said, smiling against his lips before kissing him. “I’ll just miss you a lot.”
“I’ll miss you, too, Michelle,” he said, kissing me on my forehead before looking into my eyes. “I love you so much.”
“
I love you.”
“I’m sorry,” the pilot said gently, “but we really need to be going. Otherwise, I’m afraid we’ll miss our window. Your father explained that you departing on time was quite important.”
“Business before pleasure, I’m afraid,” Jonathan said, smiling ruefully.
“Well, don’t you worry, Mrs. Wharton,” the pilot said. “I’ll take good care of your husband and have him back to you in no time.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Good luck with everything, Jon. Let me hear from you.”
“Of course,” he said. “Stay busy. Make friends.”
He gave me one last kiss before walking with the pilot to the waiting plane. The driver held my door open for me as I climbed back into the car. By the time I’d gotten situated and turned back, Jonathan had already vanished inside the plane.
The driver nosed the car off of the tarmac and onto the main road as I watched the plane taxi to the runway. It took off without a hitch, vanishing into the deepening evening. There went Jonathan, out of my life, prepared to do battle thousands of miles away with people who didn’t think he was good enough to helm his family’s company. I didn’t know who had it worse—Jonathan, who would be going on a grueling, frustrating journey, or me, who would be stuck here, a newlywed alone on her wedding night.
“Where to, Mrs. Wharton?”
The driver had to ask me twice—I didn’t recognize my own name. I shook myself from my despair as best I could and smiled.
“Back to my wedding, I guess,” I said, watching the airport get smaller and smaller in the window as we drove away.
Back to my wedding—without my husband.
~~~
Follow Michelle and Jonathan’s Story in
WORTHY, Part 2
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lexie Ray is a lover of the written word. Nothing pleases her more than to weave together ideas and rhythms to craft the perfect stories. Her most recent work is the “Runaway” series, a five-part body of work that features stories of love, loss, and redemption. “Boundless,” her sixth book, can be considered a standalone volume in the “Runaway” series. On the off chance that Lexie isn’t writing, she’s reading. She’s a glutton for good stories ranging anywhere from nonfiction to thrillers to bodice-rippers.
She’s always keeping her eyes and ears open for inspiration, and reading helps feed that need. To keep her stories and her soul fresh, Lexie also enjoys hobbies outside of the writing world, including cooking, listening to music, and creating art. She loves putting her own stamp on recipes and can be described as DIY crazy. She has also been known to dabble a little on the piano. Lexie loves holidays in whatever form they appear and feels like life should always be celebrated. Living in South Texas as a freelancer by trade, Lexie enjoys beautiful weather almost all year round and occasional trips to the beach.
She wouldn’t trade this life for anything, and looks forward to her upcoming projects. Visit her online at Facebook.com/AuthorLexieRay.