Turn It Up

by Inez Kelley

  Bastian forced a stern expression onto his face. “Sins of the flesh will be your downfall.”

  With an exaggerated innocent expression on her face, Charlie folded her hands in prayer-fashion. “But Father, I only want to go down on—I mean, with—you.”

  Bastian mock-scolded, “You are a bad, bad girl.”

  “Really? The bishop said I was the best he’d ever had.”

  The audience roared and applause rang out while Charlie blew kisses to the crowd, tossing her short wimple over her shoulder. She delighted them with her naughtiness.

  He chuckled and directed his words to the audience. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? If my teachers at Saint Andrew’s had looked like that, I wouldn’t have minded being spanked.”

  She looked at the crowd, pursed her lips then strolled over and thwapped him on the butt, earning another burst of laughter.

  “Okay, that’s enough parochial punishment, Sister Milk-n-Honey.”

  Properly chastised, Charlie hung her head. He knew as soon as his back was turned she would do something outrageous. He faced the mike and felt her hand slide along his ass. She gave a firm squeeze. Bastian blinked. That bit wasn’t for the audience and he floundered for a moment.

  “Uh, everyone at WTXT would like to thank you for coming out and donating to the Autism Foundation. As we’ve highlighted tonight, this disorder is widely varied and touches over a million children in this country alone. Children with this disorder learn differently, process things around them in their own ways and are often lost in their own worlds. They can teach us if we listen, and we can reach them if we try. We all—doctors, educators, parents and the general society—must reach out in the hope that one day they’ll be able to interact on a meaningful level for everyone.”

  He supposed he should be full of nerves but too much happiness coursed through him. There wasn’t room for anything else. He unfolded a small paper that had been tucked in his pseudo-Bible.

  “According to the last figures we have, tonight you have raised almost eighteen thousand dollars for the Autism Foundation.”

  When the applause quieted, he looked back at Charlie. Beneath the black-and-white headdress, her blue eyes were wide with excitement. He held his hand out and Charlie took both it and his place at the podium. Her grip was tight but her face was relaxed and her voice was smooth.

  “A few weeks ago, during the three-hundred-and-eighty-third show of Let’s Talk about Sex, Doc proposed to me on the air. I, of course, refused and propositioned him instead. The Race for Wed or Bed has been a thrilling, entertaining and enlightening journey. I learned a lot about myself and my co-host. He really is my best friend. He taught me that love doesn’t depend on the body but on the heart. He showed me that innocence is just as powerful as passion. He proved to me that forever isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.”

  The look she sent him warmed his soul with more intensity than the footlights. He gave her back the best smile he could before she turned to the audience.

  “That discovery is one I wish everyone could have. Being loved, no matter what, is a gift. It’s a precious feeling knowing you can count on someone to catch you if you stumble. It’s even more rewarding to be the person who catches someone before they fall. Children with autism need someone to reach out to them and to always be there.”

  In a sudden burst of nerves he was sure no one else saw, Charlie blew out a fast breath and steeled her shoulders.

  “So who won our race? We’ve never said. That’s because neither of us did and yet we both have. The score was tied thirty-two to thirty-two at our last show, but we promised to go out with a bang. Tonight is the bang, the tie-breaker. We’re arrogant enough to think that this will open your hearts and your checkbooks to push us past that twenty-thousand-dollar mark. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Honorable Walter Shuman, District Nine Circuit Court Judge.”

  Bastian started the applause and the crowd joined in as a pudgy gray-haired man in a Lucifer costume joined them on stage. He hefted his pitchfork and bowed. Caz and Eddy slipped in behind him, standing on the stage behind Bastian. Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes.

  Charlie looked up into the sound booth and nodded. There was a click and a buzz as Justine transferred the audio from the podium mike to the overhead system. She blew them a kiss from above and then sent a thumbs-up. Charlie stepped beside Bastian, lacing her fingers with his.

  Judge Shuman took the book Bastian had left on the podium, cracked it open and cleared his throat.

  “Through the airwaves on Let’s Talk about Sex, Dr. Hot and the Honeypot have shared their courtship with us all. We’ve cheered them, laughed with them and learned from them. I welcome you tonight to join in once last time and stand as witness to the marriage of Dr. Sebastian William Talbot and Miss Charlie Ann Pierce.”

  A collective gasp exploded from the seats and a loud twittering rose high into the balconies but the judge never paused. Soon everyone quieted to listen if this surprise wedding was real.

  It was very real.

  No costumes, stage lighting or hundreds of unsuspecting guests could diminish the impact this moment had. Bastian’s knees quaked and his stomach shimmied but this was the moment he’d dreamed of coming true. His face ached with the spread of his smile.

  He barely noticed Eddy tucking his ring into Charlie’s hand or pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Her fingers trembled sliding the wedding band on him but she never stumbled with her vows. Bastian repeated his vows slowly and clearly, never dropping his gaze from Charlie’s. He slid the gold ring home and looked up. Charlie had tears in her eyes, tears of joy.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  She answered with something he’d never get tired of hearing. “I love you, too.”

  “And now, for as much as you have made your vows, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving your rings, I pronounce that you are husband and wife. Sebastian, you may kiss your bride.”

  Bastian needed no second prompting. His hands tangled for a second in her wimple but his mouth found hers like a beacon in the dark. He meant to give her a light kiss but nothing with Charlie was simple. Her tongue touched his and every good intention flew from his head. Electricity sparked and burst into flames that had begun around a campfire weeks ago. He dove into her mouth, tasting every corner and crevice of his wife’s kiss.

  Deafening applause drowned out everything except the feel of her in his arms. Lack of oxygen alone pulled him away. She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered, “We did it.”

  Dr. Hot had a bit more left in his bag of tricks. He nipped her ear. “Not yet, but let’s get the hell out of here and get naked.”

  “Amen, Father,” she laughed.

  “I think you mean husband.”

  If life were perfect, they could have slipped out the back. But the audience was on its feet, clapping and cheering. Flashbulbs popped and cellphone cameras clicked. They smiled and waved, granting a second kiss to quiet the calls. The Summer Kickoff closed on a high note, with the money-raised goal lights blinking wildly.

  Aiming for the door, Bastian and Charlie worked the crowd, accepting congratulations and thanking sponsors. Eddy caught Charlie in a fierce hug. “Be happy, baby girl.”

  “I am, Mom.”

  His spine stiffened when Eddy scowled at him. “Hurt her and you answer to me.”

  “Yes, ma’am…Mom.” He grinned.

  Caz clapped him on the back then handed him a set of keys. “Congrats, bro. Now get out of here. I parked out back so you shouldn’t have to fight the traffic too bad.”

  “Tell me you didn’t do something juvenile like deck the SUV in balloons and condoms.”

  Caz’s gaze shifted to the side. “Well…”

  “Boo,” Bastian snarled.

  Charlie slid her hand into his and squeezed. She nodded, the silent message on her face shifting his irritation to excitement. Her sparkling eyes darted behind Caz.

  Bastian gr
ipped his brother’s shoulders and turned him around. “Time to face the bully.”

  A dark-haired woman stood twenty paces away, nearly swallowed by the bustling crowd. She didn’t move. She held the hand of a little girl in a glittery fairy costume. Caz’s back went straight and his face fell flat with shock.

  “Maggie?” The terrified whisper held awe and hope and an undercurrent of disbelief. “Grace?”

  The violent tremor that ran through Caz’s body struck hard at Bastian’s gut, and his throat tightened. He couldn’t imagine suddenly seeing his child for the first time.

  “How did you…” Caz’s voice cracked and he clamped his mouth shut. He spun around, facing Bastian. “I can’t do this. She has a restrai—”

  “Yes, you can.” Bastian’s grip on his arm was firm. He looked hard into Caz’s eyes, seeing the absolute terror, the fear of failure, the shame he tried to hide. “That expired a long time ago. Talk to Maggie. Meet your daughter. She’s a sweetheart, Boo.”

  Caz looked like he wanted to vomit, but he sucked in a breath and turned. He took the first step toward his daughter. Over his shoulder, a little fairy waved a sparkly wand at them. Charlie waved back then slid her arm around his waist.

  “You did good, medicine man.”

  “I owed him. He bought out my half of the house. He deserved to have his family.” A sudden blurriness made him close his eyes. He reached for her, found her in the best place, at his side. “You ready to get out of here?”

  A naughty look darkened her eyes to ocean. “I’m so ready I’m not wearing panties.”

  His cassock barely hid his instant erection. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  “Only you, Charlie. Name one other bride who chooses to go camping rather than have a real honeymoon.”

  Orange and gold danced across his hair, turning it to polished brass. Brass that shook with his laughter, drowning out the snaps and pops from the campfire. She closed the cooler lid then returned to settle between his knees. The night was warm enough that no sweatshirts were needed this time, and her tank top left her shoulders bare to press against his T-shirt.

  “You can’t say I didn’t treat you right on our wedding night. I made you s’morgasms, BBQ potato chips and hot dogs, a feast fit for a king.”

  He circled her, hugging her to his chest and kissing her neck. “No comment on the menu. Besides, I plan on feasting on something much sweeter later.”

  “Oh? What?”

  His tongue skimmed a tingling line down her neck. “Honeyed peaches.”

  Forget honeyed peaches. His voice husked with the rich timbre of warm butterscotch. A sweet rush gathered between her legs. They’d waited so long, testing every boundary but never crossing the lines. The past few weeks had been filled with hurried plans and sweet torture. Now nothing stood between them and forever.

  She wrapped her arms around his. “This is where it all started, remember?”

  Firm lips nibbled up her ear. “I thought there was no way I could ever want you more than I did that night. I was wrong.”

  A half turn was all it took for her mouth to find his. Her lips parted under his, and their tongues lazily stroked a craving to a hunger. He licked her bottom lip then scalded her with a fierce closed-mouth kiss. “Remind me to update my will, okay?”

  She jerked her head back. “You’re kissing your new wife and thinking about kicking the bucket?”

  Her tease did nothing to soften the sincerity on his face. “No, it’s just I feel like every dream I’ve ever had has been given to me. My life can’t get any better.”

  Happiness surged through her. Only weeks ago they veered from a path of just friends, of comfortable companionship. Now their lives were intertwined, from this night forward…to forever.

  Her fingers delved under the edge of his shorts. The loose legs let her hand trail up to touch soft cotton underneath. “Oh, trust me, your life is about to get a whole lot better.”

  Unharnessed lust flared in his eyes. “Let’s go to bed, Mrs. Talbot…or sleeping bags, as the situation is.”

  “You’re sure this is okay? It hasn’t been that long. You’re not still sore?”

  “Nope. I’m all yours.”

  “You went back for the follow-up? Got…everything checked out okay?”

  “Yes. Got the all-clear from Dale.” Bastian chuckled and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “And after all that time trying to get me naked, not helping me get those last two samples was downright mean of you.”

  “Just making sure you stayed true to the bet. You said you wouldn’t go to bed with me until we were married.”

  “Actually, I said not until you could say ‘yes.’ You said ‘yes,’ then we said ‘I do.’ Now I’m saying ‘let’s go.’”

  She squeezed his thighs then stood. “You bank the fire. I want two minutes alone before you come in the tent.”

  “I’m timing you. Go.” The feral look on his face sped her heart.

  Charlie grabbed the lantern and darted into the pitch-black tent. The single light cast soft shadows on the nylon walls. Shimmying out of her clothes took no time but situating the sleeping bags she’d zipped together over the air mattress was a pain. She’d barely slipped inside before the flap thrust back. A kettledrum thudded in her chest. A deeper, achier thud formed below.

  Bastian ducked in, pausing half in the tent, half out. He sighed. “I’ve been dreaming of slowly undressing you for…oh, months now, and here you are, naked inside the sleeping bag, totally depriving me of that fantasy.”

  With deliberate seduction, she used her foot to inch the edge of the covering down. She rose to her knees and let the material fall away. The lamplight hid nothing and Charlie didn’t want to hide. She wanted him to look, to feast, to let loose the hunger he’d held in check. The brush of his gaze across her body tightened her nipples and made her breasts heavy. She cupped them in her palms, rolling her thumbs across the tips.

  “I can give you something better than a fantasy.”

  The tent zipper whizzed downward with a scream. The air mattress dipped slightly as he crawled to her, ripped the shirt over his head and captured one nipple between his lips. The strength of his possession forced her to the mattress, the sleeping bag zipper biting into her ass.

  “Bastian!” She arched with a laugh. “You’re moving awfully fast here.”

  He never took his mouth from her breast. “You’ve driven me fucking crazy for weeks. I’ll go slow later.”

  Somehow, tangled in down-filled Gortex, Bastian managed to kick off his shoes, shed his clothes and never lose contact with her skin. Stinging nips from his teeth soothed beneath his silky tongue until she writhed and whimpered under him. She buried her fingers in his hair, pulled his head up and took his mouth. She rolled his shoulders back to the mattress.

  His long-fingered hands were everywhere—her breasts, her hips, her back. But he was far too much the gentleman to insist or demand. Charlie easily kept them away from strategic spots. The sleeping bag bunched under him as he allowed her to lie atop him.

  “Slow. Down.”

  He rocked up. “I’m trying, Charlie. I want you so bad.”

  A pulse beat in his hard shaft, pinned between his belly and hers. Swinging her leg, she straddled him, bringing her damp core flush to his hard stomach. She ground against him just to hear his soft moan. Torturing him was such fun when it promised orgasmic endings.

  “You can have me…after I’ve had you.”

  Time stood still as her tongue dove into his mouth, thrusting against his, mimicking the action he obviously craved. If she tilted her hips a fraction of an inch, she could end this torture, slide him deep inside her with a single stroke. But that would be too easy and over far too quickly.

  He rose to capture her mouth and she angled her face, giving him her cheek instead. Teasing little nips and nibbles along his neck and collarbone simply frustrated him. She tugged his hands from her hips. Inching higher on his belly, she rocked her empty center along the muscl
es in his stomach but kept her breasts away from his mouth.

  Bastian growled. “For weeks you’ve been trying to get me in bed and now you play hard to get? You are evil, my wife.”

  Charlie laughed with wickedness. She lowered her mouth to his neck and bit harder than needed but the pain melded with his desire and made his hips buck.

  “Please.”

  Never taking her eyes from his, she slithered down his body. The thin thread of hair on his belly became her map. The muscles of his stomach tightened then quivered when she circled her tongue below his navel. Everything vanished from her past. Nothing and no one existed except this night and Bastian. Tonight, she would make love for the first time with her husband.

  “Watch me, Bastian. Watch me take you.”

  Wide and wild, his bronze gaze focused on her lips. For all her teases and touches, she’d never had the luxury of just looking at him. He was fully hard, his rigid cock lying flat to his belly. Tantalizingly slow fingers traced over him, learning the different textures—the silky head, the firm shaft, the raised veins that pulsed with his heartbeat. She toyed, a cat with a string, decided which way to pounce. She dragged her tongue from the base of his shaft up to the wide head then flicked the tip into the glistening drop beaded there.

  His chest heaved, a tic jerking along his jaw as she licked from the top down to the very bottom. Her eyes never closed, never blinked, kept him locked with her as she explored, tasted and teased.

  “You. Are. Killing. Me.” The words rasped with his strained effort. Charlie pouted her lips then sucked him deep. A garbled cry filled the tent and his hands shot into her hair. “Charlie!”

  She answered him without words, sucking and stroking, swirling her tongue along the stiff ridges. The frantic quivering of his lower stomach enthralled her. The rhythm of her mouth kept time with her hands kneading his thighs, working every hard muscle to the absolute brink before pulling back and smiling. His head crashed back to the mattress and he gulped air in loud bursts. She raked her nails along the insides of his thighs, turning the gulps to a hiss.