We told our friends and family we got a great deal on a last-minute getaway, so they knew we’d be out of the country, they just didn’t know I’d be returning with Brett’s last name. Brett didn’t have to worry about telling anyone at the distribution center. I thought he’d let Dan know, but he hadn’t, he just told people he was going on vacation, and that was the end of it.
Halfway through the week, we realized we needed luggage. I sent Brett to take care of that while I washed clothes and cleaned the house. Things had been a total disaster since he’d started to move his stuff in permanently. I figured he’d go to one of the department stores at the mall, pick out a matching set, and be home in an hour. Two hours later, when he still hadn’t come through the door, I called him to find out where he was and ask him to pick up dinner on his way home.
“Hey, Annie,” he answered clearly frustrated.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m getting it sorted out. What are you up to?”
“Well, I figured you would be home an hour or so ago. I’m starving and wanted to see if you would pick up takeout on your way back?”
“Of course, Chinese?”
“Always my go-to. Thanks, babe. See you in a bit.”
“Love you, sweetheart.”
Two hours later, four hours after he’d left, Brett came up the front steps with his arms full of Chinese takeout.
“Brett, where have you been? I called you almost two hours ago!” He placed the food in my hands and returned to the trunk of his SUV without responding. It was dark outside, making it impossible for me to see what he was unloading, but I assumed it was the luggage he took hours to purchase.
“Go get dinner on the table, Annie. I’ll grab this stuff and be in.”
I turned on my heel and went back inside. When I emerged from the kitchen into the dining room with two plates piled high with Asian delicacies, I saw mounds of stuff on the living room floor.
“Brett, what is all that?” I called out over my shoulder.
“Luggage.”
“We’re going away for less than two weeks, and it’s to the beach. What all did you buy?” Setting the plates on the table, I made my way toward him.
I gasped at the sight before me. What must have been every piece of luggage Coach made sat on my floor. Swoon! My only weakness, my one fashion vice, was Coach purses. Oh, hell, who was I kidding, Coach anything. Coach luggage was better than hitting the jackpot in Vegas. I was painfully aware of the cost of each and every piece, and he had spent thousands.
“Brett! This is like five thousand dollars of luggage!”
“You don’t like it? The saleslady assured me this was their classic line. She said it would be perfect for you. She even helped me pick the pieces a woman would need to travel for ten days.” His forehead crinkled in frustration, scrunching his eyebrows down into a narrow furrow.
I couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from my mouth. I couldn’t stop, completely unable to catch my breath. My eyes blurred with tears as I hugged my stomach, doubled over from the strain on my abs from my hysterical guffaw. Brett tried to ask me what I was cackling about, but all I could do was hold my hand up in a halting motion until I could regain my composure. When I could finally stand up straight, he was glaring at me, which sent me into another giggling mess.
“What the fuck, Annie? Why are you laughing?” His use of the word fuck sobered me—a little—until I saw his forehead crunch up again, and it started all over. Bent over at the waist, still trying to control myself, I heard the bathroom door slam shut. Shit. Taking a deep breath, I stifled the hysteria, but couldn’t suppress the smile raging across my face.
My knuckles tapped on the door. I tried to talk to him through the wood. “Brett, baby, I’m sorry. Come out and talk.”
He opened the door, but that Klingon look he had on his forehead set me in motion again. I clamped my hand over my mouth causing him to shake his head.
“Why are you laughing at me? I tried to get you something you’d like.”
Oh, hell, I didn’t want to have to strip him of his man card; I couldn’t stand when a man whined.
“Oh, sweetheart, I love it, all of it. But you realize you got taken for a ride, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Baby, she sold you every piece in the entire collection.”
“She said you needed each one. She even told me what each one was for and how you’d be able to use it.”
“She works on commission. Aww, Brett, we’ll just have to travel a lot for me to use every piece, and it will never be all at the same time.” I sidled up next to him and squeezed him at the waist. I kissed the underside of his jaw since that was all I could reach.
He gave me a weak side hug in return that sent me into hysterical laughter again. Now knowing he’d been taken advantage of, he took it out on me and chased me to the couch where he pounced on me, and tickled me until I almost peed on myself.
Chapter Three—Annie
Typically, the bride exuded excitement and anticipation of her wedding day, so much so she’s unable to sleep. I had never been geared that way; however, Brett apparently was. I had no trouble sleeping and nerves about the big day hadn’t hit me. Brett, on the other hand, had been running around like he was jacked up on coke. We had to leave for the airport early in the morning, and he’d been running all over the house double checking our bags, loading the car, making sure he had our passports. The list was endless. I loved the man, but he needed to calm down before he sent me into a tailspin.
I’d tried for the last hour to get him to come to bed to no avail; it was time to pull out all the stops. I wanted my man in my bed, so I could curl up next to him and go to sleep. He refused to join me, so I went to him—naked. Stripped bare, I left a pile of clothes on the bedroom floor and crept down the stairs. He was in the kitchen getting the coffee ready to brew in the morning and hadn’t heard my approach as I tiptoed down the stairs. His back was to me, so I propped myself in the doorway on my elbow tipped behind my head twirling a lock of hair. I waited, casually posed like a sexy flamingo, for his attention.
He turned and jumped, not expecting to have company lingering in the doorway. “Jesus, Annie. You scared the crap out of me.”
I continued to twist a bit of my hair and waited for his reaction.
He stopped, stone-still, not a muscle in his body moved, but his shorts twitched. I waited as a coy smile permeated my lips.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured as if there were no one else in the room to hear his observation.
In a come-hither fashion, I crooked my finger at him, silently requesting his presence. I didn’t have to ask twice before he was instantly at my side, his hands splayed on my butt, pulling my body tightly to him. His arousal pressed through his shorts, but I didn’t want him here. I wanted him in our bed, upstairs, naked, with me. He leaned down to capture my lips, but I pulled apart just before he made contact. Turning toward the stairs, I assumed he’d follow, but when I reached the base of the stairs, I heard him laugh.
“You’re in for it; you better run.”
I took off up the stairs like a bat out of hell, laughing, out of breath, all the way down the hall to our room. I clutched my breasts with one arm to keep them from bouncing while I slid on the hardwood floors rounding the corner to our room. He was right on my heels and grabbed me by the waist just before I reached the sanctuary of our bed. He tossed me over his shoulder, and gave me a loud slap on the rump, leaving a rosy red palm print. Afraid to ask him, I bit down on his side, hoping to elicit the same response. I got what I’d hoped for.
“What the hell,” he tossed out confused. He wasn’t mad but hadn’t ever seen this side of me.
I didn’t know how to respond and didn’t want to attempt an explanation, so I kept baiting him. Still thrown over his shoulder, I reached over to his opposite side and nibbled a little harder. Again, he rewarded me with a smack, this one harder than the last. Before I cou
ld stop myself, I let out a moan of pleasure. He stilled until he raised his hands to my waist and lowered me gently to the floor. He tipped my chin up as I blushed into a crimson flower. Keeping me close to him, his hands rested on my butt, their heat intensifying the sting his slaps had left. The burning sensation, coupled with his caress was soothing.
“Do you like that?” he asked timidly.
I didn’t have an answer for him. I’d never experienced it, but I was riding a high right now I didn’t want to come down from. My hand guided his to the evidence of my arousal unsure of where it came from. My teeth worried my bottom lip, scared of what appealed to me, but more so of what my fiancé was thinking. He hadn’t removed his hand, in fact, he’d continued to ensure I stayed excited, but this was unchartered territory, for both Brett and me.
He turned to sit on the bed, unsure of how to proceed. His face appeared blank, as though he’d lost interest. I hadn’t meant to scare him…or myself. Nothing about sex for me was ever normal, and I typically had to be coaxed into new experiences. I didn’t want to read into why the pain resulted in pleasure, and I wasn’t sure where a conversation would even lead, but I didn’t want to have it now.
Standing in front of him, I weaved my fingers through his hair and tilted his head back to reassure him with a kiss. Kissing Brett was like working with a perfectly timed director—he knew the precise moment to explore deeply, when to pull back, and when to break; but I adored the way he tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth as though he’d been cued.
Once I initiated, he always took over, and this time was no different. His body sprung to life before my eyes, but where I was after something carnal, tenderness lingered in Brett’s stare. I removed his shorts, climbed onto his lap to straddle him, and lowered myself down to a piece of heaven. Once settled, my head dropped back, and I used my knees for leverage and rolled my hips into him. We found a lazy rhythm together that drove us both to the brink, but didn’t quite push us over the edge. Brett was drawing this out, and I needed more friction.
There had never been a time Brett hadn’t given me exactly what I needed, and this was no different. Clutching me tightly to his chest, he flipped us both over, leaving him hovering over me.
“Hold on.”
I heeded his warning and clutched the rungs of the headboard. With the first plunge, I cried out in pleasure and Brett gave me exactly what I’d craved.
Gingerly, I pulled my legs from around him, and he laid down next to me. He offered his shoulder for me to curl into. I rested my head in the nook, the one made just for me, the spot I fit perfectly, right where his shoulder met his neck. He coiled his arm around my waist once I situated myself and drew me as close as possible before he dropped a kiss on my forehead.
“I love you, baby. I can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle in twenty-four hours.”
Just as I nodded off, he whispered one final thought.
“And we will talk about that spanking earlier.”
I couldn’t see his face in the darkness and couldn’t read his tone, but when I felt him smile, I thought he might be excited to explore instead of judgmental.
Brett nudged me to consciousness with sparse kisses to my forehead and gentle coos.
“It’s time to get up,” he murmured.
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, it was 5:30 am. Groaning, I threw back the covers and trudged to the bathroom. In a trance, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and then brushed my teeth. I went through the motions of putting on jeans, a T-shirt, and my black Docs before he lured me to the kitchen with the robust smell of freshly-brewed coffee.
My fiancé stood waiting for me with a travel mug in one hand and a bagel with cream cheese in the other—breakfast of champions. “The car is packed whenever you’re ready to go.”
Before I took his offerings, my arms found his waist, and I laid my head on his chest. He automatically circled me in a heartfelt embrace, and he kissed my temple.
“Bless your heart, early mornings just aren’t your thing, are they?”
I shook my head and enjoyed standing there just a moment longer before I allowed him to hand me my breakfast. Our flight left at 7:10 am and would put us in Montego Bay around noon. That left us six hours before the sunset ceremony that would officially make us husband and wife. That thought perked me up enough to get me motivated and out the door.
There weren’t many people on the plane, but there could have been a massive horde, and I wouldn’t have known it. I was asleep on Brett’s shoulder before they pulled the landing gear up. I woke to the stewardess instructing me to put my seat upright and prepare for landing. Wiping the drool from my mouth, I gazed up at Brett to see the look of adoration he always showed me. Smiling, I acknowledged just how grateful I was that fate intervened, and life had better plans than those I had for myself—I’d been given the perfect partner for me.
The terminal was bustling with people. I couldn’t help but notice the way women stared at Brett and glanced down to our intertwined hands. They didn’t even try to mask the looks of disbelief as they scowled their judgment in my direction. I had no problem admitting, Brett and I did not look like a matched pair. Brett could’ve graced the cover of GQ, while I would’ve been better suited for Rolling Stone. He was breathtakingly beautiful with piercing green eyes while I was the girl next door with a big smile. He was unfazed by it, and most of the time, I tried to ignore it.
Today was no different—women wanted to eat him up. It never ceased to amaze me that women would openly flirt with a man clearly with another woman, but they did, and they did it in earnest. For a long time, I thought Brett chose to ignore their advances, but Lynn pointed out, he wasn’t ignoring them—he didn’t see them. Brett was oblivious to other women because he had eyes for no one but me.
I watched in awe as Brett raised his arm to hail a cab, seeing the confident way he moved regardless of what he was doing. When the driver stopped, we loaded our bags into the trunk and started toward the Sandals Resort in Ocho Rios. I couldn’t wait to get there to take a shower—I needed a refresher. The two of us were equally anxious, but Brett’s bouncing knee set him apart.
Reaching over, I placed my hand on Brett’s thigh to halt his movement. “Are you nervous?” I asked him.
“Absolutely not. I’m counting the minutes. I’ve been waiting forever for this, longer than you can imagine. It’s the adrenaline that has me pumped up.” He softly squeezed my hand and brushed his lips against my temple. “How could you possibly think I’d be nervous? I’m about to make you my wife.”
“I don’t know. I don’t want you to think we rushed into this. We got engaged a week ago and will be married by sundown.”
“Are you having doubts?” The crinkled concern etched in his forehead made me giggle.
“Nope. Not a bit.” The moment I answered his questions the cab stopped. “Oh, look, we’re here.” The resort was stunning from the outside, sporting a Spanish-style hacienda with cream-colored stucco walls and a burnt orange roof.
I felt like little orphan Annie when she saw Daddy Warbuck’s mansion for the first time. My eyes went wide in the lobby taking in the Spanish accents. I stopped in the entrance and absorbed the view while Brett went to check-in.
The cute little brunette working the desk clearly had an affinity for my fiancé. I watched from a distance while she flirted with him. I knew the moment she had our reservation in front of her, her face changed, and I wished I’d had a camera. She scanned the lobby for his bride-to-be before saying something to Brett. He looked at me and jerked his head slightly to indicate he wanted me to join him.
My footsteps echoed on the adobe tile floors as I crossed the lobby. His arm was outstretched, inviting me into his side as I approached, and he tucked me into the spot against his shoulder. I smiled at the girl who did little to acknowledge me before Brett started talking.
“Sweetheart, the event coordinator wants to meet with us as soon as possible to finalize the details. Why don’t we
take our stuff to our room and then meet her back here?”
“Sure. You know, if you don’t want to talk wedding, you don’t have to come back down? Or you can go have a drink at one of the bars? I can take care of this stuff.”
“Do you want to do it alone?”
My face broke out in a huge grin. He knew me better than I gave him credit for. “No, I don’t want to do it at all. I’m perfectly happy letting the resort do everything and just telling us where to be and when.”
I tried not to roll my eyes when the desk clerk offered her snide opinion. “You don’t want to plan your own wedding? How is that even possible?”
I didn’t think she intended to come across like a snooty witch. She was young, not married, and obviously, a girly-girl. I was about to tell her what I thought, but Brett got to her first.
“I love that she isn’t caught up in the details of the ceremony, and she isn’t interested in spending thousands of dollars trying to impress other people. This is about us. This is who she is. Not every girl dreams of a fairytale wedding from the time they’re toddlers. Isn’t that right, babe?”
I just smiled and kissed him square on the lips. The girl at the counter cleared her throat.
“Why don’t I grab Cindy before you guys go up; maybe all of this is unnecessary.” She scurried off before receiving our reply and quickly reappeared with a blonde bombshell.
Again, I think Satan laughed at the shitstorms he created in my life. I silently wondered if every single gorgeous girl in this place would interact with Brett before our wedding—just to see if he could be tempted. He shook her hand when she introduced herself, but after that, he never met her eyes again.
Freed (Bound Duet Book 2) Page 33