On The Dotted Line

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On The Dotted Line Page 4

by Kim Carmichael


  Before he let loose, bizarre recorded organ music filled the room and he turned toward the entrance of the chapel.

  The doors opened and Willow entered.

  Well, Willow and a ton of artificial glitter entered. Reverend Calloway wasn’t kidding, the front woman donned his short-term fiancé with a veil and tiara and a bouquet of flowers, but everything from her head to her toes seemed dusted with glitter.

  “I got the veil option.” Peter winked.

  “And the bejeweled option.” At last calmness claimed him, the same kind as when sleep finally found him, or the aspirin started to work on a headache. He smoothed down his jacket.

  Even in the saccharine setting, the ethereal quality Willow possessed shined through brighter than the sparkles. If they had time for a white dress and clean up, she would have been a magnificent bride, one he couldn’t help but paint on the beach at sunset or in a forest with flowers in her hair. Watercolors would suit her best. Maybe one day when her dreams became a reality, and her Nan was settled, she could smile about their brief time together.

  He held out his hand when she joined him. Playing her part to a T, she handed her bouquet to Peter and laid her hand in his.

  “Dearly Beloved...”

  No sooner did the man get the second word out than Willow raised her hand. “Stop.”

  “Keep going.” He grabbed her hand back. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest and he broke out into a sweat.

  “No.” She resisted.

  “We’re getting married.” He widened his eyes. How dare she leave him with less than ten minutes to spare? Where would he find another girl, the only option now was that woman at the front.

  “I won’t say these vows.” She lifted her chin.

  “Would you rather recite your own vows?” Reverend Calloway asked.

  “Yes.” They both said in unison. Right now he would hire a screenwriter. One thing about Willow, at least she was genuine and wouldn’t say words she didn’t mean. An admirable quality for anyone, but especially a wife.

  “Very well.” The man glanced down at the paper. “Willow, why don’t you tell Randolph how you feel?”

  He restrained himself from telling her to get on with it, and they faced each other.

  Her hand trembled only slightly, and she inhaled twice. “Randolph, when I woke up this morning I never anticipated the turn my life would take tonight. After today a piece of us will always be intertwined. I hope you get everything you want out of our union.” She stared up into his eyes. “I promise to do my best.”

  “Randolph, do you have anything to say to Willow?” The minister nodded at him.

  The urge to pull her closer overtook him, but he resisted and chose to lace his fingers in hers. Her words were elegant and telling to the kind of person who somehow saved him. Maybe the energy she spoke about was upon him tonight in the alley.

  He stepped toward her and gazed into those eyes. The light blue was more of a tint rather than a pure color, completely unique, exactly like her. “Willow, you came into my life when I needed you most. I promise to make sure I deliver what you need to make your dreams come true. You are genuine, the real article and utterly stunning.”

  A blush stained her cheeks. She licked her lips and blinked several times, taking one step closer to him before turning back to the official.

  “Wonderful.” The minister gave them a broad smile. “Though we are keeping with our own special ceremony I still must ask if you, Willow Day and Randolph Emerson Van Ayers the Third take one another as their lawfully wedded spouse?”

  He held his breath. The next four words had him sliding into home.

  Willow faced him. “I do.”

  Without waiting for the go ahead, he answered. “I do.”

  The minister put the bible down. “Are we exchanging rings?”

  “Oh.” Willow’s blush instantly vanished.

  No matter what galaxy they lived in, every woman wanted the ring. Apparently someone didn’t read the contract too close, the mention of the rings was in section three point nine. “I have the rings.” He let go of her only to retrieve the box out of his suit jacket pocket.

  The second he opened the red leather box with the two rings, she gasped and put her hand to her chest. “Randolph, I can’t take that.”

  “This was my great grandmother’s ring.” He lifted the six-karat marquis yellow diamond out of the box. “For as long as we are married I would be honored if you wore it.”

  Her focus shifted between him and the ring. She nodded her understanding and with a bit of color returning to her face, held her hand out.

  He slipped the ring on her finger. “Perfect fit.” The way she basically told him she didn’t expect the ring permanently renewed a bit of his faith in the world, as did the way she wouldn’t sign their contract right away because she thought her allowance was too much. In his whole life no one ever complained of extravagance. Maybe they were destined to take this journey together.

  “My turn.” She plucked his great grandfather’s platinum band out of the box, closing her hand around the jewelry. “It has good history.”

  “I hope so.”

  She put the ring on his finger, the visible proof he’d succeeded, and they stared at each other. In anticipation of the last sentence, he squeezed her hand.

  “By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you man and wife.” Reverend Calloway said the magic words.

  Peter lifted his watch and nodded.

  Five minutes to spare.

  “You may now kiss your bride.”

  At the acknowledgement he won, he took the woman who made his life possible into his arms. “I will never forget what you did for me,” he whispered the words across her lips and their mouths connected.

  He planned on giving her a chaste, sweet kiss. A simple kiss of gratitude, one to seal the deal, something to create a basic bond.

  Instead, she instantly reacted. Rich, plump lips molded to his, filling his mouth with such as sweetness that he had no choice but to part his lips to take a better taste.

  A small moan escaped her throat and she wrapped her arms around his neck. With an unexpected need stirring inside him, he held her tight against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, and bent her back as their tongues dared a small touch. Call it relief, need or something completely different, every nerve ending fired off, shooting stars through his whole being.

  “Talk about a whirlwind marriage.” Peter’s voice interrupted them.

  Willow’s gasp broke their kiss. He stood up, blinking to bring their gaudy surroundings into focus, but he only saw his new bride with her fingers pressed to her lips.

  “Well, may I present to you for the first time …” The minister took a breath and peeked down at his notes. “Mr. and Mrs. Randolph Emerson Van Ayers the Third.”

  Peter clapped.

  “I wish you the best of luck.” The minister nodded.

  With a lifetime spent planning every move, reading every line, watching everything with laser-like precision, the kiss threw him off. He stared at Willow.

  Chapter Three

  “Mrs. Van Ayers, would you like another glass of champagne?” As they walked down the hallway top floor of the luxury hotel on the Las Vegas strip, Randolph held the bottle up. “We have to finish it, it’s part of our wedding package.”

  “That’s not the champagne that came with our wedding package.” She held her glass out for more of the incredible treat. After the wedding Randolph took one glance at the bottle the chapel gave them, dubbed it unacceptable and by the time they returned to the limo, Peter procured something more to Randolph’s liking. Though she would never admit it, the drink was amazing. Bubbles of expense tingled across her tongue. Though it caused a lot of bitterness, sometimes money tasted sweet.

  They continued toward their room and Randolph filled their glasses once more, finishing off their second bottle. “Mrs. Van Ayers, I propose a toast to you. You saved me from mys
elf.” He tapped his glass against hers. “My long search is over.”

  A bad case of the giggles found her as an image of him in his suit and tie searching for buried treasure flashed in her mind. She stopped and bent over, the laughter paralyzing her.

  “What is it?” Randolph put his hand on her back.

  She caught her breath enough to get her words out, but the pressure built. “I have a feeling you’ve never searched for anything in your life.” She straightened up and leaned her head back to capture the last few drops of the amazing liquid, tripping on her own sandal. The floor didn’t want to cooperate with her feet. “Oops.”

  In one graceful move, Randolph caught her, lifting her as if she didn’t weigh a thing. “You’re wrong. I searched for you.” His green eyes darkened.

  Her world spun at the sudden movement, but her body tingled at the way he stared her down. “Well, you had to search for your current wife in an alley.”

  “I couldn’t have found a better one on Rodeo Drive.” He brushed one fingertip across her cheek. “Trust me.”

  The man changed once they made it official. His soft touches and sweet words coupled with the champagne riled her up. “Oh.”

  “I think we should go to our suite now.” He carried her down the hall. “Unfortunately, we drank our dinner and I need to learn to take care of my wife better.”

  She licked her lips at the way he glanced at her with an alcohol induced twinkle in his eye, but willed the little flutter in her stomach away at how he kept calling her his wife. Though technically true, it wasn’t spiritually true. “You just don’t want me dropping dead before the year is out.” She needed to say something to make him stop.

  “Honestly I don’t want you dropping dead at all.” He tilted his head and one of his curls sprang down on his forehead. “Never. You will forever be a part of me.”

  With no response to those amazing words, she went with her gut and curled one arm around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him.

  Suddenly a set of soft lips were upon hers. The same lips she discovered at her wedding. In need of another sampling, she opened her mouth to try out that tongue once more.

  “Should we get you to your room?” A male voice interrupted them.

  “Peter’s still here.” She tapped her husband. Her husband? “Oh my God.”

  “What’s wrong?” Randolph looked around.

  She motioned for him to bend down and cupped her hand over her mouth.

  Randolph offered her his ear.

  “You’re my husband.” She hoped he realized the enormity of it all, because she didn’t know if she realized it.

  “And you are my wife, Mrs. Van Ayers.”

  “Mrs. Van Ayers.” She needed to hear herself say her name aloud. What had she done? Lost in her thought she used her nail to trace the outline of his ear. “You have a very nice ear.”

  “Where is this room already?” Randolph lifted his head.

  “Right here.” Peter stopped in front of a set of double doors and held up a card. “I have your keys right here.”

  “Don’t you think keys were better when they were keys and not just some plain nothing?” She scowled at the white plastic credit card looking thing with the hotel logo on it. “Totally not sexy at all.”

  “What is sexy?” Randolph carried her the last few feet.

  Her mind didn’t want to focus, and she couldn’t remember what she wanted to think about. Something about ears or maybe her name. “Real keys, real kisses.” She narrowed her eyes, studying his ear some more. It had to be ears. “Someone sucking on your earlobe? I think it’s a forgotten erogenous zone.”

  He stepped backward over the threshold and snapped the unsexy keys out of Peter’s hand. “Say goodnight to Peter.” He opened the door.

  “Goodnight, Peter.” She waved at him as Randolph took them inside. She held on to her husband. The world moved with them and she quickly made out a huge room with ultra-modern furniture overlooking the Las Vegas Strip. All the lights sparkled outside the darkened room.

  “I think we should get you to the bed.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.

  At last she remembered what she wanted to think about, her name. “You didn’t say it.” She stuck her lower lip out to let him know she didn’t approve.

  “What didn’t I say?” He put her purse and shawl aside.

  “For a man with very good manners and my husband, I can’t believe you don’t know.” She reached up and flicked his earlobe with one finger. Her mouth watered. Wait, maybe her thoughts were of ears after all.

  “Forgive me for my faux pas.” He laid her down on the bed and joined her, putting his hands on either side of her and lowering his head to the crook of her neck. “What if I make it up to you, Mrs. Van Ayers?”

  She squirmed at how his voice vibrated through her whole body. “I suppose you can.”

  He trailed his lips up her neck to her ear.

  She held her breath.

  He ran his tongue around her ear creating a slow circle of shivers. “Better?”

  All he succeeded in doing is making her want more. “Not yet.”

  “Let me try harder.” He blew into her ear.

  Unable to get comfortable, she continued to writhe. “Getting there.”

  “How about this.” He took her lobe between those lips and sucked.

  “Oh, God.” Her body turned into nothing but a bundle of sensation, and going with what her body told her to do, she slid her hands underneath his suit jacket.

  “Hold on, I think I’m missing something, Mrs. Van Ayers.” He leaned up, removed his jacket and tended to her other ear, repeating his series of licks, kisses and sucks on her opposite side.

  “Now I’m balanced.” She gave in and raked her hand through his curls admiring how they shined with the glitter they doused her with. Perhaps she only wanted to think about his hair.

  “I will strive to keep you perfectly even.” He glanced at her. “May I kiss the bride?”

  “You already did that back in chapel and in the hall.” Though she could go for some more anytime.

  “Correction, you kissed me. I think it’s my turn now.” He lowered his lips to hers.

  All her random thoughts dissipated at his kiss. Thoughtful yet passionate, he took his time to taste each of her lips before deepening the kiss and finding her tongue with his own.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

  Any last bit of control she possessed was lost the moment he moaned. The weight of his body was perfect to keep her from floating away, the bulge in his pants hitting her in exactly the right way to make her want to lose control. She pulled his starched shirt from his pants, sneaking her hands up his back.

  Randolph slid his mouth down her jaw to her neck. His light kisses teased each of her nerve endings to life.

  “Randolph.” Like it or not, he was her husband and he was turning her on. Her inner primal self wanted him.

  His hand traveled down her side, grazing her breast, and rested on her waist. “Do you need something?” He spoke into her open mouth before finding her lips once more.

  She answered by kissing him harder and raising her knee. Every time she shut her eyes she seemed to spin, and rather than fight the feeling, she let it overtake her, doing how she had been taught her entire life and going with what she wanted, what would make her happy. As if led by some unknown force, she pried her fingers into the knot in his tie and untied it.

  He broke their kiss, stared into her eyes and snaked his hand inside the top of her dress. “Willow?”

  “Yes.” Her breath caught. He cupped her breast in his palm. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly pulled the tie out from his collar.

  “No bra?” He grazed his thumb across her nipple.

  She bit her lip. Already her entire being was over sensitized. “Never wear them.” She managed to release two of the buttons on his shirt, but gave up on the work and yanked it open the rest of the way. Satisfied the way the buttons
popped off, she ran her fingertips across his smooth chest.

  “What else don’t you wear?” He shimmied out of the wrecked shirt, throwing it off the edge of the bed.

  She trailed one fingertip up from his belt buckle, over his flat stomach and up to his neck. “I’ll give you one guess.”

  “Yes.” He crushed his lips to hers.

  Sensation, arousal and desire encompassed her. They kissed and touched, igniting her whole body.

  She lost herself in the way he held her and how his muscles rippled beneath her hands.

  Finally, he discovered the fact that she didn’t wear underwear, and his hand skimmed over her, taunting and teasing, until he treated her to one finger and a second. “So maybe you like me just a little.” He chuckled.

  She held on to him for support. “You’re very handsome.”

  “You are very beautiful.” Once more he kissed her and applied pressure where she needed it most.

  She shook her head.

  “You are. I watch you enough to know.”

  “Really?” His naked body pressed against hers. Though she never remembered either of them removing the rest of their clothes, the proof of his arousal rested against her inner thigh, hot, thick and ready for relief.

  Off in the distance the telltale crinkle of a condom wrapper told her satisfaction would soon be hers. She reached down, biting her lip when she could barely get her hand all the way around him. “Randolph.”

  “May I give my beautiful wife a real wedding night?” He sheathed his erection.

  “Yes.” At the moment she would gladly trade her monthly allowance for an orgasm.

  With no resistance, he entered her and sucked in his breath.

  At being filled, she gasped and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. Her body opened up for him, welcoming the invasion.

  “You’re perfect.” He put his hand behind her head and gave her a deep, languishing kiss.

  All the rushing from earlier vanished, and he took his time with liquid smooth strokes that built her arousal at the perfect rate.

  She shut her eyes, focused on the sensations around her. Their scents intermingled with their bodies, his breath quickening, the way they moved together, no longer two separate people but a unified force together.

 

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