Just Married (More than Friends)

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  “Newlyweds?” the dealer asked as he was forced to stay on seventeen while Dave busted.

  “For almost an hour now.” Mira checked her cards and nearly spilled her bubbly. A jack and an ace in both hands.

  “It really is your lucky day,” the dealer spoke as he counted out her winnings.

  “No,” Cal rumbled behind her. He leaned down and placed a light kiss on her temple. “It’s mine.”

  6

  “Can you stand?” Cal carried Mira out of the elevator and toward the honeymoon suite.

  “You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold.” She nuzzled deeper against his neck, and started kissing him there.

  His steps faltered. It had been one thing when she’d done it in the elevator and he could lean against the wall. How was he supposed to think straight, let alone walk? And he had to figure out a way to get his keycard without dropping her.

  “Doll, let’s get into the room, okay?” He released her legs and she slid down his body.

  “Because you don’t want anyone to see you kiss me?” She backed up against the door, her gaze glassy and lost.

  “I don’t want a video of my wedding night on the Internet.” He opened the door and she stumbled back. He grabbed her and lifted her into his arms again as he carried her inside. “Carrying the bride over the threshold is supposed to be symbolic, not necessary.”

  She hid a yawn behind her hand. “I haven’t slept since you invited me to your wedding. Our wedding. I don’t even know anymore.”

  Callum kicked the door to the suite closed and set Mira on her shaky legs. She wobbled in her heels, so he knelt down and helped her take them off. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. He looked up at her and ran his palm up the length of her smooth calf.

  “I am so angry at you.” She pushed her hand through his hair, the lights of the strip shining in the windows and shadowing her features.

  “I know, doll.” He rose up to his knees, running his hands up her long legs as he went. “Let me make it up to you.”

  “How? Are you going to tell everyone the truth?” The anger in her gaze disappeared, her hazel eyes wide and glistening.

  “We are the truth. I want to be with you, and no one else.”

  “But you don’t want to marry me. That’s just for show.” Her voice went quiet as she stared at the ceiling.

  “No. If it was for show I would have hired someone.” He waited for her to look at him so she could see he meant what he said. “I chose you. I want you.”

  “You want your inheritance. You never even considered a relationship with me before that was in jeopardy.”

  He shook his head. “I never pushed for more because you wanted kids, and I didn’t want to keep you from that. You only told me a few months ago that you didn’t think you’d be able to have any. I’d figured we’d tell our friends about us soon. The next time we had a new godchild, most likely.”

  Tension left her muscles, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since she stepped out of their shower. “So help me, Cal, if you are lying I will hurt you in painful and creative ways.”

  “I have no doubt.” He pushed his hands higher, finding her hips bare. “Do you ever wear underwear?”

  “At home. But we’ve ‘lost’ them before so I don’t bother around you.” The air quotes were back, as were the dimples in her smile.

  “Very practical, Mrs. Kerr.” He moved his hand from under her skirt to the hidden zipper on the side of her dress.

  “I’m not changing my name.” She lifted her arms as he slid the zipper down.

  “I see, Ms. Rose.” The dress slid from her body in a hush, leaving her perfectly naked. He found nothing sexier than a woman who wore nothing beneath her clothes. He palmed her breasts, light glinting on the diamond in his ring.

  It felt awkward and heavy on his finger, but he did like the way it looked as he traced the long curves of her lithe body.

  “Cal, I have to tell you a secret.” She placed a hand on his shoulder for support. She hadn’t had much of the champagne she kept reordering as soon as her glass got warm, but then, she wasn’t a drinker.

  “I can see your secrets from here.” In all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen her sloppy. Even in law school, she’d never had more than a couple. And now, after he’d plied her with waffles and enough water to drown a fish, she still had a groove going.

  “You know what I did today?” She turned into him, vining her arms around his neck.

  “Ordered enough champagne for fifty people?”

  “It was free after I won a gazillion at blackjack. I’ve never gambled before.”

  “It’s not usually like that.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the casino.” She sighed, wearing an expression he hadn’t seen in years. Mira didn’t really do vulnerability. Neither did he. He’d bet she was the only one who’d ever seen it in him.

  “I think we’re more of an investment. Guaranteed interest and huge dividends.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That is the worst analogy in the history of ever.”

  “You’re welcome.” He tried to run his fingers through her hair, but got caught up in pins. He tried to remove them as delicately as possible, but really, there needed to be an instruction manual for such things.

  “Uh, you want to pull my hair? Is that how you like it now?” She lifted her foot, rubbing the arch behind his knee.

  He knew he wasn’t completely off the hook, but her wicked grin told him they were done talking about it tonight. “Damn it, wife. I’m trying to help you.”

  “Oh, poor baby. Does my wanting to fuck you make this hard?” She gripped him through the wool of his kilt.

  “Everything about you makes me hard.” With her lips puffing whispers behind his ear, he could hardly think. He pulled out what he hoped were the last of the pins and shook her hair loose.

  “Mmm, if you like it then you should put a ring on it.” She nipped his earlobe. “Oh, you already did. And it’s huge.”

  “You can handle it.” He shrugged off his jacket and started in on the buttons of his shirt.

  She slapped his bare chest with the back of her free hand, the diamond scratching his skin.

  “The ring, you perv. I can’t walk around with something like this on my hand. I’m not a Real Housewife.”

  “If you take off yours, I’ll take off mine.” He discarded the shirt, then pulled her hand free and lifted his kilt.

  “You’re really going to wear yours?” She flattened her palm against his chest, the lights of the strip reflecting off her diamond and her heavy lidded eyes. “That’s not very modern.”

  “The way I’m feeling right now is positively primal.” He grabbed her hips, pulling her up against him.

  “I want you.” She all but purred in his ear. “Lose the kilt.” She turned and sauntered back to the bedroom, showing him the tight ass she kept hidden behind her proper dresses and prim suits. The kind of ass that made his cock salute and want to take her for a ride.

  He followed, dropping the rest of his clothes as he went. He didn’t want anything in his way. Hell, she’d be lucky if she made it to the pillows before he plowed into her.

  In the bedroom she knelt on the bed, her long hair curling around her breasts like a goddamned Lady Godiva fantasy. His steps stuttered, realizing this was more than their standard orgasm exchange program. This was their first time as husband and wife, and no matter how they defined marriage, that mattered. Set the tone. Made him want to be better.

  He walked to the side of the bed and fisted his hard cock. “What kind of game do you want to play, doll?”

  “We’re playing married, aren’t we, Cal?” She twisted the diamond on her finger and blinked up at him in mock innocence.

  “Oh, I see.” They’d never tried role play before, but everything was hot with Mira. He released himself and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be gentle with my new bride.”

  She swat
ted his hand away. “This isn’t the dark ages, Highlander. You wanted a modern marriage, and you know what that means.”

  “I have no idea.” He pushed a hand through his hair. He needed to get off the eggshells he’d been walking on ever since he’d asked her to marry him. “Enlighten me.”

  “Blow jobs are a once-a-year deal, on your birthday.” She counted her new rules on her fingers. “We’ll schedule sex for Wednesdays before the eleven o’clock news, unless I’m too tired. We’ll do it in the missionary position, with the lights off. And I don’t wax if you don’t.”

  As if. He gripped his cock and pumped, pinning her with a stare and all but daring her to look down. He’d never known anyone more engaged during sex than Mira. She loved it; he secretly wondered if she loved it even more than he did. She’d always been able to surprise him in bed, but never like this.

  “And one more thing,” she said, settling herself against the mountain of pillows. “We’ll sleep in separate bedrooms. You snore.”

  “This is the honeymoon suite. There is one bed. And I plan on wearing it out.” Uncertainty sliced through him. She’d just described his biggest fear about marriage—that everything he loved about being with Mira would change. If he’d known he would lose his best friend over this, he would have let Dirk have the estate. Nothing was worth having Mira change.

  “You can sleep on the chaise.”

  “The only thing that chair is good for is getting comfortable while you ride me.”

  “Not tonight, dear, I have a headache.” She rested her head against the pillows and closed her eyes. “Good night. Be a doll and get the lights, will you?”

  She had him, right up until she started to laugh. “Come kiss me.”

  She held out her arms for him and he moved into the embrace. His lips searched hers with a slow certainty, his hands cupping her face. She turned and kissed her way along the stubble of his jaw.

  “Did you forget about my secret?” she whispered in his ear.

  “Found it.” He reached between her legs and cupped her sex, damp with arousal.

  “You’ll like it.” She tongued that spot between his ear and his neck that only she had ever bothered to find.

  “It’s my favorite thing.” His middle finger slipped between her folds, leaving him with just a thread of control. Any other night, he’d have laid her down and been inside her within seconds.

  “Mine too.” She rocked against his hand. “But that’s not my secret.”

  He met her gaze. “Does that mean it’s mine?”

  She gave a wicked come-and-get-it laugh. “No, but there is a position you can fill.”

  He kissed her smile and laid her back on the bed. He followed her down, intending to ravish every inch of her. But she had other plans and rolled on top of him. She slid her legs to straddle him, her slick heat trapping his hard cock. He couldn’t hold back the groan.

  “Shh.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “I’m trying to tell you something.”

  “I’m trying to show you something.” He rocked his hips against her and she lost her balance, bracing herself against his shoulders. “Show, then tell.”

  “When you do that, I wind up speaking in tongues.” She might be stalling, but he’d swear she was getting wetter for him.

  He put his hand behind her neck and pulled her down for a kiss. “Speak to me with your tongue.”

  She brushed her mouth against his, only to pull back and run the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip. She rocked against him and he gripped her hips to keep her still. No way was he going off before he was inside her. “You really don’t want to know?”

  “Tell me quick, woman. I’m trying to get laid.”

  She pushed up again, the ends of her hair tickling his chest. “I wasn’t going to let you marry someone else.”

  “I was counting on that. I thought you’d offer yourself up as an option.” He pushed her hair from her shoulder and palmed her breast.

  “I thought you’d ask me.” She made tiny circles with her hips, until he felt her swollen clit rubbing back and forth along the head of his cock. “In fact, I don’t think we can consummate this marriage until I’ve been properly proposed to.”

  “Even when you’re drunk, you still speak lawyer.” He cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs across her nipples. She pulled her lip between her teeth the way she always did when she was trying to make it last. “Do you want me to propose, or do you want to come?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I’m trying.” He laughed and she shot him a glare that said she was not at all impressed with his joke. Okay then. “Miranda Rose, will you be my wife?”

  She grinned and picked up her pace. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Besides my cock?”

  “I can have that whenever I want. You’re easy.”

  “Only for you.” He pulled up his knees to help her balance. “You’re not after my cock and you won’t take my name. What is it you want, woman?”

  Something flashed across her face, an emotion he didn’t recognize, but before he could question it her features lit up with a wicked grin.

  “I know what I want.” She climbed off him, the coolness of the air-conditioned room hitting him where her slick heat had been. She laid beside him on the bed. “I did you a favor today, so you owe me one.”

  “At least.” He rolled toward her, letting his hand drift down to cup her sex.

  “I want you once a month. No excuses.” She turned to him, lifting her leg over his.

  “None from you either.” He ground the heel of his hand against her clit and curled a finger inside her. She gasped and grabbed his arm, so he pushed deeper until he found the perfect spot to make her eyelids flutter. “Now, answer me.”

  “What was the question?” She leaned in, her hot lips on his neck. Hell, he almost forgot.

  “Will you be my wife?”

  “Oh yes. At least once a month.”

  He withdrew his hand and slapped her ass, hard. Which made her laugh, as it always did. He covered her body with his, nestling into the cradle of her thighs. She felt so warm and welcoming beneath him, he doubted he’d ever want to go a week without her, let alone a month.

  She lifted her head, nipping along his jaw line until he turned the tables and started kissing her with a lazy determination to make her beg. She had him and she knew it. It would be nice to know he had the same effect on her. Their mouths locked in a deep, wet passion that could have gone on forever except for small things like breathing and his cock demanding release.

  She took his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to hers. “I need you inside me.”

  Sexier words were never spoken. His cock found her entrance without any guidance and he pressed inside. Pleasure echoed through him with every inch. He pulled back a little, then pushed his way home.

  She gasped and crossed her legs behind his back. She locked her gaze on him and he couldn’t look away as he rocked in and out of her. The intensity of it built past the point of comfort. This was something different, unexpected. Like they were breathing from the same lungs, blood pumping from the same heart.

  She felt like a part of him, like his soul had expanded to hold her close, their lives spinning together like a thread. The intensity of it seemed too much, but he couldn’t see a way back. He pumped into her, begging that passionate hazel gaze to release him.

  He wouldn’t be the one to let go first. Couldn’t be. But she matched him move for move until he couldn’t tell which one of them was breathing in and which was breathing out. It seemed like an instant and forever when her eyelids started to flutter. Her fingers started slow circles against the back of his scalp.

  She kissed him, the gentlest brush of lips. “You’re mine.”

  “Yes.” His hushed whisper matched hers.

  She smiled and then her eyes fluttered closed. Her back arched and she licked her lips as she let go, giving herself over to him completely. The tight walls of her sex pulsed around hi
m as she came. His orgasm followed as her body held him tight, wringing every last drop of pleasure from him.

  7

  The paper gown crinkled as Miranda shifted on the examination table. The nurse had warned her the doctor was running late, but she needed the annual all clear to renew her prescription for birth control pills, so she’d opted to wait. She’d rescheduled the appointment thanks to Cal’s marriage game and had taken her last pill this morning, so she couldn’t put off the visit any longer.

  She sighed and refreshed the email on her phone. When she finally made it to the office, she’d have to slip into the Monday morning debriefing and needed to be prepared. The latest message didn’t come from work, but from Cal’s lawyer.

  With a shake of her head she opened the email. For the last three weeks she’d been fielding all sorts of unnecessary paperwork. Nothing had proved useful until today, when she’d been able to use his medical insurance to cover the co-pay for the office visit.

  “Another life insurance policy?” She spoke to the empty room. From the drone of her doctor’s voice next door, she knew she still had time to kill. Cal’s lawyer was also his godfather, and she had half a mind to call his home number since the man never returned a phone call.

  One last time, she dialed his office, and again was offered his voicemail.

  “It’s imperative that I speak with him immediately. Tell him Miranda Rose is on the line. I’ll hold.” She looked down at her pink Just Married toes. She needed to make time for a pedicure before she went to New York next weekend to visit Cal.

  “Miss Rose? Mr. O’Roarke is in a meeting. Why don’t you—”

  “Tell Mickey it’s Miranda Kerr, Callum’s wife.” She didn’t have time to play phone tag anymore.

  “Oh, of course Mrs. Kerr. Just one moment.” Celtic music filled the line.

  Mrs. Kerr. As if. She spun the diamond on her finger. She’d taken to wearing it with the stone toward her palm. It kept people from staring.

  “Miranda, how are you?” Mickey’s jolly voice would have been welcome if he’d responded to any of her previous calls.