I gasped as he started to thrust in and out of me, as he pressed warm kisses against my chest and made me squirm beneath him.
“Be still, Claire.”
“I can’t...” I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his back, scraping my nails across his skin as he sped up his thrusts.
“I’ve missed this so much...” His mouth connected with mine again and he rewarded each of my moans with a deeper kiss. “So much...”
He rocked into me over and over again, caressing my face with his hands—never breaking eye contact with me.
“I’m going to...I’m going to—” I shut my eyes and screamed out as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my body. I shuddered and shook as he came inside of me and softly collapsed onto my chest.
He slipped his hands to my hips and rolled us over so I was laying on top of him.
As I struggled to catch my breath, he rubbed his palms against my bare back and sighed. “Was the wedding everything you wanted it to be?”
“Yes...” I murmured.
“Are you sure? We can do it all over again until it’s perfect if you like.”
“It was perfect...”
“You were so beautiful coming down the aisle...It took a lot out of me not to pull you down into the grass in front of everyone.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I sat up.
He raised his eyebrow and I didn’t even know why I doubted him. He would’ve.
“Can we go to the reception now?”
“No.” He skimmed his hands against my stomach.
“Why not?”
“Because we haven’t had sex in weeks and we have another hour that we’re going to take full advantage of.” He pulled me back down.
When we finally made it into the reception room—after Jonathan had his way with me three more times, there were tears in my eyes.
I’d always envisioned our reception in all white with subtle pops of color, but he’d changed it—for the better: The tables were draped in light ivory, with pastel yellow and pink centerpieces that perfectly complemented the sparkling lights that hung from the ceiling. Our name—“Mr. & Mrs. Statham” was etched in large black cursive in the center of the glass dance floor, and the beautiful sweets bar I’d been so adamant about having, was larger than I’d envisioned. It was a series of huge spiral stepped-displays, and it took up an entire wall.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Statham!” The DJ bellowed.
I looked over at Jonathan—who was standing on the other side of the grand steps, and slowly made my way down to the dance floor.
He didn’t let me make it down the last few steps alone. He walked over to my side and reached for my hand, insistent on leading me to the dance floor himself.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close, telling me he loved me again and again.
The lights in the room began to dim and a soft spotlight shone over us. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, the orchestra began to play—striking chords to a song I didn’t recognize.
“You changed the song?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“What is it?” I was trying to place where I’d heard this melody before.
He said nothing. He simply smiled and moved me to the music.
I lay my head against his chest and listened to the strings sing softer and softer.
“At last...” Jonathan sang into my ear in perfect pitch. “My love has come along...”
My heart started racing all over again once I realized what the song was—Etta James’ “At Last.”
“The night I looked at you...” His voice was beautiful.
“You told me you didn’t know how to sing...” I looked up at him in tears.
“I told you I didn’t sing.” He kissed me. “I never said that I couldn’t.” He pressed my head back against his chest and continued singing the entire song to me, kissing me deeply as soon as he sang the last note.
When the lights brightened again, I leaned in and asked if we could just leave for the honeymoon now, but he shook his head.
“You wanted a perfect wedding, Claire. We have to do all the ‘perfect wedding’ things.” He led me around the room and we greeted each and every guest.
We posed for pictures with our friends and family, laughed as we cut the three tiered cake together, and tried not to get carried away when it was time for him to remove my garter.
As the DJ began to play the upbeat music for dancing, Jonathan pulled me out onto the open balcony where a small table was waiting. He pulled out my chair, and the dinner we’d missed earlier was served to us in three short courses.
We ate in complete silence, simply looking up at one another and smiling each time our eyes met.
The second I finished my dessert, he helped me up and pulled me close. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes...”
He nodded and signaled to someone I couldn’t see. He led me back into the reception room, and the DJ announced that we were leaving.
“Do we really need to have the rice thrown on us as we leave?”
“That’s a ‘perfect wedding’ thing...”
“Okay.” He kissed me, and we waited for Miss Corwin to lead all of the guests outside.
“Mr. and Mrs. Statham?” She motioned to us. “Follow me please.”
We followed her down the hall and to the entry way of the venue, holding hands. When she gave the signal, we ran outside and down the long white carpet, dodging a heavy rain of rice and cheers.
Greg opened the door to the limo and Jonathan picked me up and placed me inside.
As soon as the door shut, his lips were on mine and his hands were all over me. I leaned forward and started tearing off his shirt, murmuring as he slid his hand behind the back of my dress.
I was tossing his shirt across the seat when I heard a series of loud popping noises outside.
I immediately stopped. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” He was still kissing me.
“That sound...It’s like gunfire.”
He let my lips go and smiled. “Fireworks.”
As if he could read my mind, he pulled me into his lap and placed his jacket over me. Then he rolled the window down and we watched as our names were spelled out in colorful sparks across the night sky: “Claire...” “Jonathan...” “Mr...” “Mrs...” “Statham...” “Together...” “Forever...” “Until...” “The Very...” “End...”
“Do I even want to know how much that costs?” I whispered, entranced.
“Probably not.” He smiled and ran his fingers through my now-tousled hair.
We watched the fireworks until they ended, until the only thing left in the sky was the stars, and by that time we’d made it to his plane.
He re-adjusted my dress and opened the door, but I grabbed his shoulder.
“Wait...Can you please tell me where we’re going? I need to make sure my staff has some of type of idea over the next two weeks...Just in case there’s an emergency and they need to contact me...I know you said we’re not supposed to do any work but—”
“First of all, we’re going to be gone for four weeks, not two.” He held my face in his hands and narrowed his eyes at me. “Second, your staff will not be allowed to contact you. At all. Neither of us is doing any work and if there is an emergency, you’ll find out about it when we get back. Third, we’re going to eight different countries and you’ll find out what they are when we get there. And fourth, since you’ve always wanted to go...We’ll take a yacht through the Panama Canal on the way back.”
I cut him off with a kiss and cried.
“Come on...” He led me out of the car and up the plane’s steps.
I didn’t wince when the plane roared down the runway, and I didn’t shut my eyes when we ascended into the air. I kept my gaze locked on his and smiled until the pilot said the newest set of secure words, “All clear, Mrs. Statham.”
As the flight attenda
nt served us a bottle of champagne, Jonathan took my hand in his. “So, Mrs. Statham...Was our first time as a married couple special to you?”
“Yes...All four...”
“Hmmm.”
“You know sex doesn’t happen as often after marriage right? That after the first six months or so, the honeymoon phase ends and you’re so busy that you have to schedule sex sometimes...”
He smiled and unbuckled my seatbelt with his other hand. “Claire Statham...” He pulled me into his lap. “What makes you think you and I will ever have that problem?”
“It’s natural. That’s just how it works. Now that we’re married, we don’t have to do it so much.”
“I’m going to fuck you every day.”
“No, listen—”
“Every. Day.”
I smiled. “You are so charming when you talk like that...”
“I’m well aware.” He smiled and eased me out of his lap before standing up. “My wife loves when I talk dirty to her, but she won’t admit it.”
“She sounds like she’s too classy for you.”
He rolled his eyes and led me into the private bedroom at the back of plane. Locking the door, he pressed his lips against mine. “For the record, Mrs. Statham, our ‘honeymoon phase’ will never end.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Shhh.” He kissed me. “It was torture not being able to make love to you for weeks, Claire...You damn near broke me...You don’t even understand how badly I wanted you at your bachelorette party, how much it hurt to lie in bed next to you without being allowed to have you...But now that I know what it feels like to be with you again, I can fucking guarantee that I will never go a day without making love to you.”
“Is that another one of your agreements?”
“No.” He smiled and pulled me over to the bed, unzipping the back of my dress. “It’s a promise.”
Epilogue
Claire
One year later...
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a pair of scissors poised high above my head. I made sure to hold the strands taut, and then I counted.
One....Two...
“What are you doing, Claire?” Jonathan walked into the room with his eyebrow raised.
“I spotted two gray hairs today.”
“And?”
“And I want to get rid of them.”
He rolled his eyes and took the scissors out of my hand, placing them back into the drawer. He wrapped his arm around my waist and led me out into our living room.
“Every man in my family started graying at thirty five.” He smiled. “You should leave your hair alone so we can match.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better...”
“It’s true. My mom’s side of the family started graying at thirty. I’m sure it’ll happen to me soon.”
“I’m not sure if gray hair will look sexy on you, Jonathan.”
“Everything looks sexy on me.”
I laughed as he handed me a box of tree ornaments.
Since we’d spent last Christmas overseas, we were hosting the holidays at home this year per his request. He’d never had a “real Christmas” before so he insisted on having his mom and Hayley over so they could all share their first one together.
“Hey mom?” Ashley walked into the room with a pan of burnt black brownies. “I followed the directions and everything...I even used the right pan. What the hell is up with these things?”
I stepped over and looked into the pan, sighing. “You make straight A’s in college?”
“Yeah, so?”
I shook my head. “What temperature did you put them on?”
“Six hundred.”
“Six hundred?! I thought you said you followed the directions?”
“Caroline’s casserole needed to be baked ASAP, so I just halved the time. Thirty minutes at three hundred degrees equals fifteen minutes at six hundred. That’s basic math. You of all people should know that.” She shook her head at me and shrugged at Jonathan. “This was clearly an expired box of batter...I’m going to go buy some more.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but Jonathan pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
“She’ll learn. My mom is going to help them with everything tonight.”
I sighed and kissed him back.
I hooked a few more ornaments onto the tree and could literally feel Caroline walking into the room.
“Yes, Caroline?” I looked over my shoulder.
“I just got me and Ashley’s final placement scores from the FAA practice-test. Our demonstration flights are in May. May fourteenth to be exact.”
“Okay?”
“I’m telling you now because we have to book a time slot in your schedule six months in advance if we want you to be there. You’re always working.”
“What? That’s not true!”
“I’m not complaining.” She smiled. “I’m just saying that—Wait, why am I even telling you? I’ll call both your secretaries and make sure they put it into your schedules.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and left the room.
I shook my head and let out a sigh. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, she was right: C and C’s Charming Designs was still making a name for itself, but it’d been growing beyond my wildest dreams—so fast that I was opening a new store overseas in a year. Statham Industries was now worth more than Jonathan’s largest competitors combined, and he’d been considering taking an extended leave of absence—just to spend more time with me.
In fact, every morning when we woke up for work, he’d kiss me and whisper, “Say the word,” waiting to see if I would ask him to step down, practically begging me to.
On the one hand, I wasn’t completely sure if I wanted him to do that—even if it was “only six months.” He was excited about the changes his company was making—all the new products they were releasing next year, and I didn’t want him to think I hadn’t noticed that.
On the other, even though our sex life was fucking incredible—I couldn’t think of a single day when we didn’t have sex at least once, we didn’t see each other that much. Unless Ashley and Caroline came home for a visit or we threw a party, we both worked extremely hard during the week and we only got to share small parts of the weekend with one another.
Don’t get me wrong, he always did small things to let me know I was on his mind—endless flowers, beautiful gifts, and home cooked dinners that I could never master, but I spent more time at work than I did with him and it hurt me sometimes...
“What are you thinking about?” Jonathan tilted my face towards him.
“Nothing...Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened to that lawsuit Ryan filed against you?”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re thinking about your ex-husband?”
I rolled my eyes. “You never told me...”
He pressed a kiss against my forehead and smiled. “He pressed charges against me for assault and battery.”
“And?”
“And I have the best lawyers in the world.” He smirked.
“Jonathan!”
He sighed. “They sent him a copy of the security tape that shows him pushing you down the steps...” He clenched his jaw. “With a note telling him to drop the charges or we would press counter charges...So he dropped his claims...And then I pressed charges anyway.”
My eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“Because he could’ve killed you...” He ran his fingers through my hair. “We settled out of court under our own terms. You’ll never see him again.”
The tone of his voice told me not to ask anything further about that subject.
I didn’t even want to know.
He clasped my hand and led me over to the couch. “Tell me what you were really thinking about.”
“You stepping down for six months...”
“Do you really want me to do that,
Claire?” He looked into my eyes. “I will.”
I glanced at the fire that was blazing in the heath, at the bright red stockings that hung over the bricks, and at our huge family portrait that hung high above our massive Christmas tree. I realized that I wanted these family events to happen more often, and I didn’t want it to have to be a holiday for him and I to get alone time.
“Yes...”
“You have to take off too...I refuse to share.”
I nodded and kissed him back. “I’ll take off for six months, but you have to take off for a year.”
“A year? Why is that?”
“Someone has to stay home and take care of the baby.”
“What?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “What baby?”
“Our baby.”
“That joke wasn’t funny the first time.” He looked at my stomach. “Your tubes are tied.”
“Are they?”
“Claire...”
“Jonathan...” I mocked him.
“We both agreed that we didn’t want kids, that even if we did want kids—which we don’t, it was too high of a risk for you to get pregnant.”
“So?”
“So, I need you to be completely fucking honest with me right now because I’m three seconds away from calling my doctor and having her run the damn test on Christmas morning. Are you pregnant?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you need to answer me. Now.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Don’t test me, Claire.” He looked deep into my eyes, pleading for me to answer him. “Tell me...”
I leaned close and kissed him. Then I stood up. “We need to finish this tree before your mom gets here.”
“You’re not going to answer me?”
“Is there a reason why we have five Christmas trees around the house? Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?”
He stood up and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and locking me in his embrace. “You have two seconds to tell me the truth.”
I blinked and he shook his head.
“Claire Statham...” He slowly released me, but before I could make a dash for the kitchen he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder. “You and I both know that I’m going to get the truth out of you. Why are you making this difficult?”
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