Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances

by Maggie Way

  Once Vivi and I were married, we’d live closer to the other SEAL team members and their wives. SEAL families watched out for and cared for each other. All the more reason we needed to tie the knot and seal the deal now, before even one more mission, or one more goodbye.

  Chapter Three

  Vivi

  Sandpaper scratched at my eyeballs and my lids were glued shut. When one lid finally broke free of the gunk, I immediately regretted it. Bright sunlight shot straight from the wall of windows through my brain before I could slam the eye closed again. Ouch.

  Where was I?

  Oh, New Orleans. Memories of Lexi and I arriving by plane and Marianna picking us up came back.

  “I’ve hooked you both up with free rooms at the Monteleone,” she’d said.

  “Awesome! Good times in the Big Easy,” said Lexi.

  Mari and I had just rolled our eyes. My oh-so-not-identical twin was a wild child. Some things never changed.

  Right now, my head ached.

  What time is it?

  I reached for my cellphone on the nightstand, but it wasn’t there. Hanging over the edge of the bed, I searched the floor around the nightstand and beneath the floral bed skirt. No phone. My head swam when I lifted it and flung myself back onto my pillow.

  Ow. Sharp pain shot through my shoulders. I reached up, seeking the source of the problem. Tenderness greeted my fingertips on both shoulders.

  “What the...”

  Bizarre flashes of the bar and the crowd came back, reminding me of the macabre day of the dead scene from a recent James Bond movie.

  Something bad had happened. The nausea and cramps came back to me then too.

  I pressed my palm to my forehead and struggled to remember more. Green. There was a lot of green. Green glitter, green beads, green drinks, and even a burning green fountain. Pianos, there’d definitely been pianos, and people. So many people.

  Then nothing.

  I sat up and swung my legs from the bed, heading for the bathroom, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the soggy pile of men’s clothes in the corner. Men’s. As if the pile of fabric were a rattler ready to strike, I slid my feet backwards until I felt the mattress on the back of my thighs. I sat.

  Men’s clothes.

  My thoughts spun, desperately seeking some explanation. My suitcase, my dress, my shoes. But there was also a strange black duffel bag, and no sign of my phone or purse.

  The tempo of my pulse kicked up a notch.

  Easy. Deep breaths.

  There was some kind of explanation.

  The door to the room pushed open and I jumped. My heart bounced right back to double-time until I recognized him.

  The tall chiseled man who walked in was Con. My Con. Concern etched his features and he looked tired, but he perked up when he saw me.

  “Thank goodness. You’re awake,” he said. He dropped the white paper bag and the coffee carrier he had in his hands on the desk and came towards me. “I was starting to think letting you sleep was a mistake.”

  He sat on the edge of my bed and leaned in to brush his lips over mine. It was a welcome kiss, an ‘I’ve missed you’ kiss. Good starting point, but I wanted more. I reached up, willing him to join me.

  Then I was wrapped in his arms as his hands skimmed over me – my hair, my arms, my body. He touched me and hugged me as if we’d been apart for years, not just the past month.

  I’d missed him, probably always would, but he’d always come back. From the moment months ago when he’d dug me that special fire pit on the beach, the one we’d built a bonfire in, where he’d taken my hand under the stars. “The only future I want is the one with you” he’d said, and I’d known. He loved me, maybe almost as much as I did him.

  Right now, though, his breathing was audible, and the spark of heat that always flared between us was there, but he pulled out of my arms and put his hands on my cheeks.

  “Baby, let me look at you.” His eyes scoured every inch of my face before moving on to check my shoulders, my arms, my hands. He inspected me more thoroughly than my dermatologist did at my annual skin cancer screening.

  Weird.

  “What are you doing?” I swatted his hands away and stared at his serious face. “Stop, you’re acting strange.”

  “Just give me a sec, I need to know you’re okay.”

  “Of course I’m okay.”

  Apparently, I passed inspection because he finally stopped poking and scanning and drew me back into his arms.

  Home.

  I missed him so much between visits. But right now, today, he was here.

  His breathing was erratic, like it sounded when he was buried inside me, losing himself to the connection we shared. Even the sound of that ragged breathing heated me up.

  Maybe it was pure instinct, or maybe it was some kind of behavioral conditioning, like a Pavlovian dog thing. When I heard my man all worked up like that my body melted, and before long I wanted some action.

  I slid my hand around his side and tucked my fingers just inside the waistband of his jeans. I pulled him closer, inhaling his scent, a combination of sunshine and saltwater and him.

  “Mmm.” My one quiet murmur was all it took.

  His mouth crushed mine, kissing and sucking and tasting. He possessed my lips so determinedly that one word vibrated silently between us — MINE!

  My heart melted into his, and my body did the same. Everywhere he touched me tingled and zinged and opened to him, even places he hadn’t yet touched. I slid my tank top over my head and he paused for just one moment to stare at my breasts, then back to my eyes. Love sparkled from his eyes, but something else lurked there too, something darker, something I’d never seen before.

  He stripped my shorts and panties away, and shucked out of his pants in less time than that. He’d have left his snug ‘I want to believe’ UFO t-shirt on, but no way I was missing the feel of his steely rippled chest rubbing against my breasts as he loved me. I jerked it towards his head and he pulled it over and tossed it away.

  “I’ve got to have you. I can’t live without you. You’re everything.”

  His words surprised me. He loved me, I knew he did, yet there was something about the way he’d uttered those words, a pounding sort of drive that stilled my heart and demanded my attention.

  “I’m here,” was all I could manage as he grabbed my hips and dragged me to the middle of the bed. In one fluid motion his hands were parting my thighs, his hips were sliding into place, and he was there, filling me up, stealing my breath away.

  He thrust all the way in and held, locking his eyes onto mine as he backed off less than an inch and slammed home again. My love. His urgency shocked me, but the fullness, the connection, it was nothing I’d ever object to. He was everything I’d ever wanted, everything I craved, and nothing I could do without. Three times he impressed himself on me, on my body, my heart, my soul, before he leaned down and kissed me in one of those deep, soul sucking kisses that drove all thought from my mind.

  I needed more. He’d lit me up like pine needles and lighter fluid, and all I could do was burn.

  My hips surged upwards wanting him, wanting everything. I whimpered and squirmed and tried for traction, but his body, his intensity, and his love made an immovable force.

  “More, please,” my strangled words begged him. “Con, please.”

  He reached down, dragged my legs up over his shoulders, upping the intensity of his angle. Slowly, he began to move. “I love you, Vivi. I need you to remember it always.”

  “Ah… I do. Oh, God, yes, Con. Mmm.” The slow scrape of him exactly where I needed him was driving me insane, and my words didn’t work well.

  I only needed him.

  More.

  All.

  The sweet tension inside me spiraled higher than I’d ever gone.

  This might be it — the moment I actually die of pleasure.

  He moved faster, each stroke was a command to reach higher, try harder, give all.

&n
bsp; I gave.

  I moaned and I keened and I screamed his name and still he drove me higher.

  “I can’t…”

  “You can, baby. You must. Give me everything. Take it all.” Each word matched a stroke, and each stroke forced ripples through me, building a massive shimmering wave of pleasure. I bucked up to meet it, grinding against the only man I wanted, the only man I loved.

  I wanted to watch him watching me, but the pleasure, the intensity, they were too strong.

  My eyes wouldn’t stay open.

  My entire being was focused on our single point of connection and pleasure, and I shrieked as he sent me over the edge. My body clenched and shuddered, and my mind blasted through a release so strong I saw stars. I felt him explode too, and the joy and bliss I felt tripled.

  This was love, Con was my everything.

  If a woman’s body could have a blinding aura of golden white love-light, this is what it would feel like.

  Yes, this.

  I drifted in the aftermath of our raw, intense lovemaking and the haze of our love. Con’s fingers traced little lines of fire across my skin. Magic wand fingers, that’s what my SEAL had.

  Blissful satisfaction eased through me until he jerked upright.

  His magical fingers turned surgical in an instant and he traced them lightly over the bruises on my shoulders. “Oh, baby. You should have told me. Did I hurt you?”

  “What? Oh, no.” I kissed his shoulder while he inspected me further. “I’m not sure what happened there, but what we just did obliterated anything remotely painful from my mind.”

  “I was worried about the drugs last night, and keeping you warm. I forgot to check for other injuries. God, I’m sorry, baby.”

  “Drugs?” His hands sought other injuries, but my mind was locked on what he’d just said. “Con, stop, please.”

  His hands froze and his gaze swung back to mine. “What?”

  “You’re scaring me.” His large hand reached up to cup my face and gently stroke my hair back.

  “You don’t remember?”

  Remember what?

  “Not anything?”

  I stared into his smoky-blue eyes. What was he asking? Or not saying? What was he keeping from me? I wasn’t sure, but his flat, neutral stare and the steel in his beautiful jaw told me something was wrong — terribly wrong.

  Chapter Four

  Con

  How do I tell her how close I came to losing her? Especially when she’d just reminded me of how very alive we both were. I snagged three of the overstuffed feather pillows from the hotel room floor where they’d landed when we needed the bed space moments before. Propping myself up against the heavy antique headboard, I pulled Vivi into my arms. The golden flecks in her lash fringed eyes seemed to still as I considered how to spring this on her. Dead on. She wasn’t one to be eased in to difficult things.

  “Last night someone at the bar drugged your drink.”

  “My… no… what?”

  “Have you heard of GHB?”

  “Sure, but… no, I couldn’t…” Her head tipped to one side, and her lids squinted as she frowned. “But… I...”

  I stroked one golden curl back and tucked it behind her ear while I waited for her next question.

  “That’s why my head hurts, and my shoulders are bruised. But wait. I came back here.” Her pupils dilated and I imagined the shock and horror she was experiencing. “I wasn’t raped, I’d know.” Darting eyes inspected mine with the accuracy of heat seeking missiles. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  This is where it got sticky. Tell her Gil and Hop just happened to be there when she got into trouble… hell no. That would raise all kinds of questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. I could tell her Diaz got her out of there, which would make him shine. I could already picture him basking in her gratitude and hero worship. Dammit.

  “The bastard, someone saw him drug you, or thought they might have. When you got sick and he tried to take you out of there, they raised hell. Apparently, Marianna’s brother was in the crowd and got to you before that happened. He got to you before my guys did.”

  “Your guys? And Gabe, he was there?”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s him.”

  An ironic smile slid over her lips. “Figures. He’s saved Marianna and I more times than I have toes on feet. Of course those were mostly childhood scrapes. But why are you here? I thought you were in one of those ’stan countries, or some other God forsaken place.”

  “I was.” Careful here. “We got leave unexpectedly, and we couldn’t think of anywhere better for St. Paddy’s than New Orleans.”

  Knowing eyes stared into mine, and my heart thumped against my ribs. “And you had nothing to do with that decision?”

  “I might have swayed the tide in this direction.”

  She laughed. A wonderful sound.

  “Gil sealed the deal, though, by offering to secure rooms in The Belle Alexandrine hotel for the whole team. What Navy man would walk away from a free room in the Big Easy?”

  She leaned in and kissed me, intending a gentle, loving kiss, but I took it deeper, opening my mouth for another taste of her. I’d never stop wanting her.

  When she eased back, I exhaled into her hair.

  “Wait. Your team was a Pat O’s, but you weren’t?”

  “Yeah, I sent them over to make sure you and the girls stayed safe. I know you lived her once, but The Quarter isn’t always the safest place to be. Especially at night, and on a holiday, with so many extra tourists in the mix.”

  Her head pulled back on her shoulders and her eyebrows pinched together. “Safe enough in groups, though. You didn’t actually send them there as… what? Bodyguards or security or something?”

  “Well, I sure couldn’t go to your bachelorette party.”

  “Most definitely not, although if I’d known you were here I’d have rescheduled it. I’d rather be with you than with a crowd of horny sailors any time.”

  I wanted to ask just who the hell the sailors were, but didn’t. Her business. I pulled her against my chest and held on until she began to squirm.

  “Thank God you’re okay. My heart couldn’t take losing you too.”

  “Too?”

  “It’s just so hard to be away when people you love get hurt.” The blood rushed back to my brain and froze as I realized what I’d said. In all of our beach walks and late night talks I’d shared everything with her — everything except what happened with Cindy.

  “People.” Her flat tone told me we were about to dig into one of my few tender spots.

  Just tell her.

  There was never going to be a good time. She’d never asked, and I’d never offered up that piece of my past. Honestly, I knew I’d have to at some point, but with our wedding still months away I thought we’d have time. Didn’t all couples do those deep question and answer sessions — like thirty things to discuss before you marry?

  “I’ve told you about before the Navy.”

  “Yes.”

  “How I was kind of wild and undisciplined? Once Dad left, Mom was no kind of role model, that’s for sure. I tried to do right, but sometimes things unraveled. I unraveled. Especially once testosterone kicked in and I discovered girls.”

  “I’m sure the girls were all after you.” Her comment was light, but didn’t quite reach her eyes while she waited.

  “Yeah, well, there was really only one girl. She was something else — off the rails, uninhibited, wild. I thought I loved her. And she loved me, at least until I joined up.”

  My stomach clenched as the anger and sadness rose up from where I’d packed it away.

  “She was in northern California at Humboldt State and I was away, in BUD/S training for the SEALs. She’d gone out drinking with friends. A bad choice as it turns out. One of them decided to drive.”

  “Oh no.”

  “The driver missed a turn on old Highway 101. The jeep they were riding in slammed into the cliff-side and they were all thrown clear. One
stupid decision and they all died. People thrown from vehicles don’t survive. At least they didn’t.”

  Her small hands stroked mine, and she slid closer as if her touch could heal my heart. And maybe it could.

  “I didn’t hear about the accident until I came out of Hell Week. I’d thought the five and a half days of brutal, miserable training sucked. Each phase of it demanded every ounce of humanity and discipline from my cold, frozen body. When I made it through without ringing out and giving up, relief took me to my knees. Then I’d heard my fiancée was dead.”

  As soon as the words were out, I regretted them.

  She jerked away as if I’d slapped her and stood, putting twenty five miles of distance between us.

  “Your… fiancée?”

  She was across the room now, stalking back and forth, dragging her hand through her hair with an aggravated swipe. Any other time, the sight of her all mussed up like that would be magic. Perky, pink-tipped breasts and the ravaged mess of blond after-sex hair more than any man could resist, but she was hurt, or angry — maybe both.

  “Yeah, about that –”

  The sharp wave of her hand told me to shut it. I’m no dummy, so I clamped my mouth shut, waiting for the fallout.

  “You were engaged before, and I’m just now hearing about that? We’ve been together a long time, Con. We have spent two months alone together, living in near isolation at the beach house. Don’t you think somewhere in all those days and nights you could have mentioned her? And that’s not even counting the long weekends, Skype, and texting over the past year.”

  I sorted through my options and opened my mouth to respond, but she hadn’t finished.

  “There have been an infinite number of opportunities for you to fill me. It’s almost like you hid it from me.”

  “You’re right. Maybe I should have told you from the beginning, but it was years ago, and the moment never seemed right.”

  “Not right?”

  Shit. When she did that echoing word thing, I was definitely in deep.

  “Well yeah, then after time passed it got harder, not easier. When the hell is the perfect moment to open a Pandora’s box of personal history?”