More Than Us
Page 2
“I like to play the odds.”
Positioning myself over her, I kiss the skin from the curve of her neck to the space behind her ear as she hooks a leg over mine. She grips my ass and—
God, I’m like a teenager. Hard as a rock already.
“Looks like someone didn’t get enough before we left the room,” she teases, nipping at my ear.
“Evelyn,” I breathe, “I could never get enough of you.”
“That’s an acceptable answer.”
“I wasn’t aware I was being quizzed.”
“Don’t worry. You’re acing it. Gold stars across the board. An A-plus.”
Closing my eyes, I exhale heavily and then roll off my fiancée, settling into the space next to her.
“Got your fill already?” she asks, dancing the tips of her fingers down the center of my stomach. “Are you done with me?”
“Definitely not.” I rub my forehead and then adjust my aching dick. “But we should stop before I rip your clothes off even though there isn’t much of them.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I knew we should have gone to the private beach,” I mutter to myself.
She giggles. “It’s okay, Fozzie. I understand. I wouldn’t want you to get a sunburn on your ass anyway.” Evelyn quickly kisses me on the cheek and then rises from the warm sand, brushing some of the white and pink granules from her tan thighs. “I’m going to take a dip. Do you want to join me?”
“I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?”
“The tent is still pitched, and it makes walking a little uncomfortable. I don’t need people staring at me in all my teenage-boner glory.”
She smirks and playfully shrugs a shoulder. “Suit yourself, but save some of that boner action for me for later.”
“I’m sure I’ll have plenty for you later.” I laugh.
Evelyn playfully raises her brows and flirtatiously nips at her bottom lip before skipping like a schoolgirl into the waves. She wades in to where the turquoise water meets her waist, twisting from side to side and skimming the reflective surface with her fingertips.
Her free spirit, her friskiness, and her liveliness are what drew me to her in the first place, and I hope she never loses that part of her.
As I watch her playing in the sea, diving her blonde head under the breaking water, warmth spreads through my chest cavity. This dynamic girl is mine. Soon, very soon, she’s going to be my wife, and she will spend forever with me.
She chose me.
Evelyn
Coming up to the surface, I clear the salty water from my eyelids and focus on my surroundings. To the right, the sea spans for miles into the horizon, and to my left, lying in the sand, is my future—Foster.
In about two days’ time, he and I will be married and joined together forever. Life with a man like Foster is eons from what I imagined for myself when I was younger. We have so many differences. Unlike me, he is serious, is well put together, and reads comic books on occasion even though he never talks about it. I’ve seen the collection from his youth. His mother had it shipped to our new home a few weeks ago with many of his other belongings, including a very-embarrassing-to-him Star Wars action-figure collection. I might have indulged him one night and replayed the scene where Luke gets some Jedi training from Yoda in the swamp, which later progressed to me searching for Foster’s lightsaber.
He and I do have our similarities, too, which is another reason I never would have imagined myself with someone like him. It’s strange, upon reflection, to think that I’m with a man who encompasses characteristics I despised and ran away from my whole life. He comes from a family of a certain social status and wealth, just like myself. It was my goal to flee from all the expectations that came with money and power and those of my parents, yet I find myself willingly marrying into them. It’s because of him.
Somehow, I fell in love with a man who is nothing like that of my dreams. He’s the man of my reality, which is better than any wish I could have ever conjured.
Treading out of the surf, I pad through the sand to where Foster is lying on the blanket, not far from a family of four setting up on the beach. I smile at the thought that, one day, Foster and I could be just like that family, tromping our tired asses to the beach with bags of supplies to keep our kids occupied through the day while we sip on margaritas and soak up the sun. It doesn’t seem like such a bad future at all.
I quietly tiptoe toward Foster, careful not to let my shadow cross his body.
Tilting my head, I ponder my soon-to-be husband, relaxed and unaware of my presence, and my heart beats a little heavier than it did before. He’s my best friend and my love. I’m so lucky to have both in an amazingly sensual and fun-loving package.
He likes to play, just as much as I do.
Thank goodness for that.
In one quick movement, I plop my wet body on top of his, smothering his sun-soaked warm skin. He sucks in a sharp breath.
“Gotcha.” I giggle, sliding my slippery arms around his torso. “You’re trapped under my power.”
The temperature between my wet body and his dry one melds together to make one. Foster wraps his sandy palms around my waist, hooking them together, and tugs me closer into him.
“Now, we’re both caught,” he counters, smiling his mouth against mine.
“I don’t know about that. I don’t feel caught.” I graze my lips over the shell of his ear. “I don’t think that’s what this is at all. What do you call it when you end up right where you’re supposed to be?”
Foster simply replies, “The perfect chemistry.”
TWO
Foster
“So, I just spoke with my mother,” Evelyn says, entering the bedroom portion of our suite.
It doesn’t escape my attention that she’s promenading around in a white lacy lingerie set. Sometimes, I wonder if she realizes how easily she turns me on. She likely does, and in all honesty, she likely flaunts herself openly to see if I’m paying attention.
“They’re all here—my dad, my sister, and her husband—and they will meet us at the restaurant.”
“Good.” I button up my striped blue shirt. “My family is settled in as well. They said they’ll meet us at the restaurant, too.”
My whole family has flown in for the wedding—my sisters, my brother, grandmother, and a number of cousins. However, only our immediate families will be getting together for dinner. Tomorrow, the real festivities begin with everyone, including our closest friends, but for tonight, it will be Evelyn, myself, and our parents.
The smaller gathering with Evelyn’s parents was my mother’s idea. Her parents are notably practiced when it comes to socializing and creating relationships, and my mother has a lot of experience in those matters as well. She insisted that an earlier meeting between our sets of parents would start the event off right and allow both sides to work together more easily. My mother is a wise woman.
Our families have been doing business together for a few years, and we plan to work together for many more in the future. Evelyn’s family’s advertising firm currently represents my family’s pharmaceutical venture on a skin-care line, and their help has launched the products into a well-known growing brand. Not that I’m surprised. Their New York-based advertising firm is one of the most respectable and successful businesses in the field.
It’s wonderfully coincidental that everything worked out between my fiancée and I the way that it has even though it was never by anyone’s design, other than our own.
Evelyn steps in front of me. “Here”—she flips up my collar and then proceeds to drape a slate tie around my neck—“I like this one.”
“I do, too.” I quirk a brow. “Since when do you like to dress me?”
“I prefer to undress you, but this is fun, too. Any excuse to touch you works for me. Plus, it’s wife practice.”
I still her hand, working the tie. “Say that again.”
“What?”
“Wife.”
“Nope. Can’t do it. I’ve met my quota for the day. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.”
“I’ll count down the minutes.”
Evelyn wraps the fabric over a few more times and then tightens the knot. She folds down the shirt collar and then straightens the tie along my chest. “Perfect,” she proclaims.
“A work of art.” I kiss her in thanks.
She turns on her heel, and I give her ass a light tap before she makes her way to the other side of the room while I continue to dress in front of the mirror.
“When is the car coming?” Evelyn asks, digging through the closest for what I assume is the perfect outfit.
“In about twenty minutes.” I tuck in my shirt and then fasten my belt buckle. “Are you going to be ready by then?”
“Yep.” She slides into a sultry-looking red dress that hugs every curve of her body.
Evelyn sidles up next to me, turns around, and sweeps her long blonde hair over her shoulder, silently asking me to help her with the hard-to-reach zipper. I pull it upward, sealing her into the garment, and then fasten the small hook at the top. She releases her hair, allowing it to fall again down the length of her back, and then she turns and quickly kisses me on the mouth.
“Thanks. You’re the best. I’m going to finish doing my hair.”
“Twenty minutes,” I remind her as she slips into the bathroom.
“Roger that, Fozzie.”
I can’t help but grin at hearing her call me Fozzie. Really? Where does she come up with this stuff?
When Evelyn and I first met, I wasn’t ready for her, but in retrospect, she was just what I needed then—and now forever. She brought life back into my life.
Evelyn steps out of the bathroom, and I blatantly stare at the stunning woman before me. She’s not exactly the same girl I met in college. She rarely wears leather skirts anymore, and her hair hasn’t been platinum in some time, but that part still lives within her.
What I see in front of me is a woman comfortable in her own skin.
I sensed she was there all along.
She is the woman I love completely.
“Ready?” Evelyn asks, smoothing out the front of her dress.
Offering my hand to her, I reply, “You have no idea.”
THREE
Evelyn
The vehicle jostles us in the back seat as the driver takes to the restaurant.
“We’re on our way,” I tell my mother through the cell phone.
“I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself,” my mother’s voice iterates for the third time. “You have a big day ahead of you, and you want to look your best. Those images will last forever. You can’t go back in time, and photo-editing can only do so much.”
I try so hard not to roll my eyes, but it’s practically impossible. She’s always so concerned about appearances. I grunt internally and remind myself that this is the way she shows her love even though it grates on my every nerve.
When it comes to her, it’s all about picking the right battles, and the point is to win the war.
“Yes, I’ve been getting rest and eating right. Of course, I want to look my best.”
“Good. I have everything arranged—masseuse, nails, hair, attire, ton—”
“Thank you for making all the appointments,” I interrupt her. “I really appreciate it.”
Foster
Joining our hands, I wink at Evelyn as she continues the conversation with the matriarch of her family. Her frustration is evident but to be expected. They don’t have the closest relationship; however, it’s so much better than it once was.
Evelyn and her mother are just two different people when it comes to how they see the world, but over the years, they’ve seemed to come to an understanding with one another. She claims that I’m the reason for the change.
When Evelyn and I first met, admittedly, we weren’t very open with one another about our upbringings—both being from families with well-established businesses and what many would call a great amount of wealth. For different reasons, it’s not exactly something either of us wanted to boast about. She grew up in New York under the tutelage of an au pair and with the expectations of following closely in her mother’s footsteps. Evelyn often refers to herself as having been groomed for society, and she hated it. She rebelled against it whenever she could.
Everything about her is wild and free and should never be caged. That’s the girl I fell in love with.
When she found out about my family, our business, our undeniable wealth, it did not go over well.
I almost lost her, all because of her parents’ expectations.
I was furious.
I lost my heart in one fell swoop, and that was when I truly knew how much she meant to me.
“Foster?” Evelyn says, lowering the phone from her ear.
“Yes?”
“My mother would like to speak with you.” She passes me her cell.
“Hello, future mother-in-law,” I tease Mrs. Cunning. “How are you doing?”
“Hello, Foster,” she replies, stoic. “I’m doing well. Thank you. I hope you and Evelyn have had a nice time these past few days.”
“We have.”
“I wasn’t sure if I would have a chance to tell you privately before the wedding, but…” She pauses. “You and I didn’t get off on the best foot; however, I am really happy you two found each other, and we are looking forward to having you as part of the family.”
“Thank you.” I peek at Evelyn, and she sassily plunks out her tongue at me. “I really appreciate that.”
“Anyhow, I wasn’t sure if you knew that or not, but—”
“Now, I do.”
“Very good. We will see you soon.”
“See you soon.” I end the call and give the phone back to my fiancée.
“What was that all about?” Evelyn questions, fastening her purse.
“She was just telling me how much she adores me.” I smooth the tie over my chest.
She guffaws. “Bullshit.”
“Do you doubt my charm? Am I not adorable?”
“No, you’re downright delectable. I could eat up all of your adorableness,” she teases. “But my mother? I doubt she has enough warmth to adore anyone; however, she does seem to like you more than me.”
“You know that’s not true.” I lean in and kiss the top of her head. “She was just welcoming me to the family before all the commotion started. She wanted to do it privately.”
“Oh,” she says, sounding genuinely surprised. “That was nice of her.”
“I thought so. Besides, I think your mother and I have a different…understanding of one another than you and she do of each other.”
“True. You didn’t have to grow up with the woman.”
“No, I just fell in love with her daughter and made sure she knew it”—I grin—“along with everyone else.”
“You’re so swoony. You know that, right?” She flirtatiously nips at her bottom lip. “Do you keep tabs on the amount of charm you need to lay on me within each twenty-four-hour period? Because, if you do, I’d like you to know that you’ve hit your quota.”
“I’m not giving you all of my secrets.”
She threads her fingers with mine. “Soon, you’ll be required to do so by law.”
“I don’t remember that to be a part of the vows.”
“You need to read them more closely.” Evelyn bites at my ear. “Maybe check the footnotes. I keep an extra copy in a special place.”
She breathes heavily across my neck, and fuck me, a surge of blood throbs into my dick.
“And where is that?” I ask.
“You’ve been there before. It’s just a little to the south.”
“Does it have navigational coordinates?”
“It’s better to explore the old-fashioned way.”
“And how is that?”
She grips my cock. “With your hands.”
“Evelyn”—I grit my teeth—
“we are on our way to meet your parents—and mine. What are you doing?”
“Is this a problem?” she questions, stroking me like it’s the fucking hand-job Olympics.
I exhale sharply. “It’s poor timing.”
“Your penis doesn’t seem to think so.”
“My dick has no sense of time.”
“Should I buy it a watch?”
The driver clears his throat, reminding us that his ears can hear just fine.
Evelyn tightens her fingers around my cock, giving it one last squeeze, and then kisses me on the cheek. I adjust myself and give my fiancée a stern look, feigning anger. She doesn’t fall for it and bats her lashes, all innocent-like.
“Nice try,” I tell her, calling her on her little act. “You know what you were doing.”
“Absolutely. I’ve had tons of practice with the equipment.”
The car begins to slow and pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant.
“We’re here,” Evelyn announces as the vehicle comes to a stop. “Are you ready for the craziness to begin?”
“Not really. My mind and body aren’t on the same page anymore. You kind of got me excited for something else.”
She reaches over my lap, opens the door, and then crawls over me. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
I tap her ass. “I’m holding you to that.”
We exit the luxury vehicle, and I escort my bride-to-be into the restaurant where the hostess shows us to our table in a secluded area complete with a scenic view of the beach. In unison, our parents rise from their seats, welcoming us.
“There they are,” Mrs. Cunning, my future mother-in-law, states with her arms open.
“Hello, Mother,” Evelyn says, kissing her on the cheek.
She then kisses her father before making her way to my parents. My mother takes her in a warm hug, full of smiles and laughter.
“Good evening, Foster,” Mrs. Cunning says to me.
I politely kiss her on the cheek. “Evening, Mrs. Cunning.” I clasp Evelyn’s father’s hand. “Mr. Cunning.”
“Son.” He nods.
“Not until after the wedding,” his wife states, in reference to him calling me son.