Virgo - Mr. Intelligent: The 12 Signs of Love (The Zodiac Lovers Series Book 9)

by Tiana Laveen

  People chattered around him while others got seated in the beautiful church. Nico was his koumbaros, his best man. He was happy to see that Amara was in attendance and had the girls with her, too. Though she’d now officially filed for divorce, it seemed that Nico and his soon-to-be ex-wife were amicable. Chi sat next to his cousins, wearing a wrinkled white dress shirt and crooked black tie. His jet black hair was parted down the middle and draped over his shoulders. It pleased him to have his surrogate son in his midst. His brother stood by the priest as everyone got to their places and a hush came over the church. Five bridesmaids dressed in various shades of blue turned towards the doors, too. The music began, and the songstress stood.

  The woman wore a silky blue gown with a white sash, and her curly afro hair was adorned with flowers. Her voice radiated through his very soul as she did a remarkable rendition of, ‘Apopse Tha Se Oneireuto’ by Giorgos Mazonakis.

  Nico lowered his head, looking deep in thought. Vangelis stared at his brother, understanding that this was the end of one chapter for him, but the start of another for them both. It must’ve brought back memories for the man, but for when Nico held his head high once again, his eyes glossed over and he winked at him. Vangelis nodded in reverence and appreciation, then turned his attention to the stoic priest. Nico held on to the stephana, the two gold crowns—one for him and one for his bride.

  And then, there she was…

  The doors opened and people gathered to their feet. With her father at her side, and his mother at the other, Sahara was a vision of perfection, sitting on a pedestal, one that he could not shake her free from even if he tried. Mom kissed Sahara on the cheek, then patted her hand and hugged her before taking her seat. Emotions swelled within him from the sight. Mom had begged to be with Sahara while she prepared, to be in the midst of it all, and she’d gotten her wish.

  Drifting like a soft, warm dream, Sahara floated down the aisle. Her father soon took his seat next to her mother and Leonard, and now, she was right there beside him, pulling at his heart and tearing him apart.

  “You look beautiful!” he whispered, unable to rid himself of the huge smile on his face.

  “Thank you. So do you!” she whispered back.

  The priest began, and Nico placed their gold crowns, ribbed with blue and white ribbons, upon their bowed heads, making them King and Queen for the day. The ribbons symbolized the love between them. He did this three times throughout the ceremony, followed by an instruction for them to kiss. They held their candles and conducted that ritual without a hitch. The ceremony went on as planned, and Nico did his part to the letter. He had them exchange their rings three times, symbolizing that marriage is give and take and that when one partner is weak, the other is strong, and vice versa.

  The moment came to kiss the woman one final time…

  He turned to her and tears brimmed in his eyes for she looked up at him as if he controlled the moon and the sun. Hope and promise gleamed in her gaze, as if she believed she’d trust every word that would ever come out of his mouth. Gathering her close, he claimed her lips in a kiss, one that consumed him like an inferno.

  When he released her, she whispered, “Se agapo,” with perfect pronunciation.

  They walked around the altar three times, embodying their first walk as a married couple. Three also stood for the trinity. The cheers and love bestowed upon them afterward was almost too much for him to bear. Over three hundred people had attended, offering their congratulations.

  The whole ceremony seemed so unreal, too good to be true. He kissed Sahara several times, just to ensure he wasn’t dreaming. After they posed for several photographs, he and Sahara made their way to the white limousine that was parked in front of the church. Now, it was Sahara’s turn to showcase her culture—the reception, which she’d promised would be ‘off the fucking chain.’

  “All right, come here!” he said as soon as the limo pulled away from the curb, headed to Maritime Museum for their reception. He grabbed her and leaned her back, practically attacking her and causing her to giggle and squirm beneath him. Pressing his hand against her breast, he squeezed over the material of her wedding gown, then bent low and kissed them, wishing he could feel the nipples hardening against his tongue. He heard the limo driver chuckle, so he pulled himself away from her for a moment to bring up the privacy partition, then went right back to her, ravishing her like some starved beast.

  “Van… Van. Van! Vangelis!” she squealed as he fought the layers of her dress and slid his hand beneath all the material until he’d reached the honeypot. Undoing his pants, he shoved them down to his calves, then reached for his dick. Thrusting his tongue in her mouth, he positioned himself between her legs and shoved his hard cock deep inside of her. Her eyes rolled as he moved faster and faster with each needy stroke. His grunts were loud and feral for he couldn’t control himself; he was falling in love all over again at warp speed. The knowledge and realization that this was now his wife made it all the more erotic. He never realized that such a thing would turn him on in this way. She orgasmed hard, shivering and sighing beneath him.

  “You’re going to rip my dress!” she whispered between sighs of ecstasy.

  He hadn’t even realized he’d been fisting the material and yanking it as he kept it high above her thighs, ensuring nothing got in his way.

  “I’ll buy you a fucking new one! Shhh! I’m tryna cum!”

  Her eyes widened and then she hit him about the shoulder, forcing him to laugh… but never slow. He felt the cool air against his exposed ass as he pumped and then he groaned as he came, flooding her garden with his milky gift.

  After a few moments, he regained his composure and rolled off her, slumping lazily onto the side of the seat. Panting hard, he forced himself to reach low and pull up his underwear and pants to make himself presentable once again while she did the same. Reaching for her hand he held it tight… so damn tight.

  Minutes later, they were inside the venue, greeted by joyous screams and confetti. The sounds of Jill Scott and Anthony Hamilton crooning ‘So in Love’ drifted to them from the DJ booth. He cracked up when Sahara broke away from him and began to pop her fingers and dance as her bridesmaids and brother surrounded her. The crowd of about seven people danced and sang, joy in their voices.

  He wanted in on the action so he joined in, her friends laughing loudly as they danced with him, moving about like beautiful blurs of blue against earthy skin. Dad soon broke up the gig and demanded that they move their behinds to the main area and get the party started.

  “You just want to get drunk! Don’t worry, Dad, there’s plenty of booze to go around!” Nico cackled as he pulled Dad away.

  Less than thirty minutes later, people were enjoying the dinner buffet which featured fried fish, macaroni and cheese, sweet potato casserole, collard greens seasoned with smoked turkey, baked lemon chicken, lima beans, salmon and crab legs, buffalo chicken wings, beef barbecue, honey glazed carrots, and large squares of moist cornbread. However, there was another entrée, too; on a cutting board off to the side under a heat lamp sat Mom’s contribution—the roasted lamb, which people were completely devouring and praising.

  “I’ve never had soul food before!” his father screamed over the music as he made love to his damn plate. The man disgusted him and made him smile at the same time. “Geez! This shit is amazing!” More laughter ensued from Dad’s antics as he worked his fork along the resting plate with one hand and held an ice cold beer in the other.

  “Welcome to the family, Sahara! Na Zisoun!” one of his cousins yelled, wishing her a long life. Sahara was enjoying her bowl of collard greens and baked chicken. “If you feed Van with this stuff all the time, he’s going to be 500 lbs. by the end of next week! This is so delicious!”

  Sahara smiled proudly. Her two aunts, who owned a catering business, had cooked the food.

  “I’ll make sure to give everyone my Aunt Ernestine and Aunt Deborah’s card. I cook well, but I’ve got nothing on them!” She wi
nked in his cousin’s direction then took a delicate sip of her wine.

  Mom seemed rather reserved as she watched from a distance. Every now and again Van locked eyes with her, catching her staring. Soon, guests began to pin money on them—a bit of Greek had slipped inside the reception activities after all. A few hours later, Vangelis was completely buzzed, laughing and talking loudly. He was having a hell of a time, dancing and singing, feeling joyous and giddy. His hair now flopped about in his face as he shimmied about the room with children and made his mother dance to some silly song with lyrics that said, ‘I’m a gummy bear… a yummy bear…’ Mom’s face reddened with what he imagined was embarrassment, and that delighted him all the more.

  Soon, he and Sahara were hugging one another, her mascara a mess from laughing and crying, all because of love…

  His family surrounded them and began to chant and dance about, tossing dishes on the ground and singing ‘Opa!’ for good luck. He spun his bride around and around, then brought her in for a kiss… one that was probably not appropriate for children to witness but he no longer cared. People cheered them on as he held her tight, his tongue down her throat as he groped her ass. He’d lost all class, all sense of decorum, all sense, period. He was madly in love, his mind officially lost, and he didn’t feel the need to send a search party out to retrieve it.

  Bringing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Can you still feel me inside you? Is your pussy warm and swollen from the good fucking I gave you on the way over?”

  Smirking, she wrapped her arms around his neck, looked him in the eye, and nodded.

  “I saw you tonight and I… I died. You’ve created a new me, baby. There will always be a permanent visitor in your museum… it’s no longer abandoned. You’re my little red globe, and I set you high in my curio cabinet and refuse to let you go.”

  “You’re just saying these things… you’re drunk.” She giggled.

  “I’m drunk, but I’m in my right mind. I may not remember half of what happened tonight come morning time, but I’ll remember this… I’ll always recall how you looked at me when you said ‘I do.’ And I’ll always remember how you held and shielded me during our first dance, allowing me to cry in private for just a minute against your shoulder, so that no one else could see it… thank you. Those were tears of joy, not pain. I can’t imagine being any happier than I am right now…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I Want to Be Your Sledgehammer…

  …A couple weeks later

  “Ohhhh! Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Sponge! Bob! Square! Pants! Absorbent and yellow and porous is he! Sponge! Bob! Square! Pants! If nautical nonsense is—”

  “Van! Would you please stop singing that annoying children’s show song?! I’m on the phone!” Sahara yelled out as the man continued to help pack up her leftover odds and ends in her house and load them onto the moving truck.

  “How can you say it’s annoying? You obviously don’t have good taste in music.”

  She ignored her husband while opening up closet door after closet door, ensuring nothing of value was left behind. The place looked so odd empty like this…

  Since her home sold quicker than either anticipated, even cutting into their wonderful, magical honeymoon in Greece, she’d had to make mad dashes to send faxes and sign papers via email once she’d accepted the offer. Despite it all, she was happy to have it scratched off their to-do list. They’d hired a company to pack and move her items, but for some reason her husband insisted on participating, stating he didn’t trust these guys and he wanted to keep an eye on things.

  His paranoia was running amuck. And he was getting on everyone’s nerves with his chipper singing, patching up some scratches and dings on the walls that no one would notice but him, and looking over everyone’s shoulder to ensure they followed his strict, totally unrealistic expectations and instructions. The guy even put on a jumpsuit as if he were some professional painter, and brought over a toolbox filled with assorted hammers that looked as if they’d all been invented two hundred years ago, and used for that long of a time, too. When she’d told him he was being irritating, he’d simply smiled and said, ‘I don’t care. You need me here, trust me.’ All she could do was roll her eyes at the man and try not to laugh at his shenanigans.

  “Hey, Sahara!” he yelled out from another room as she ended her call to her mother.

  “What, babe?” she asked, picking up bits and pieces of paper from the floor.

  “Were you expecting anyone?” Perplexed, she looked towards the open front door and spotted a white BMW pulling up. Her heart beat hard within her chest as she grabbed the material of her over-sized gray T-shirt and fisted it into a tight knot. Damien got out of the car, a smirk on his face.

  “SHIT SHIT SHIT!” She raced to meet him at the front door and prevent him from entering.

  “Heeeey, beautiful.” He bit into his lower lip and looked her up and down as if she were the last dessert in town.

  “I need you to leave, Damien.” She looked over her shoulder and spotted Vangelis standing some feet away. When she caught his expression, a chill crept up her spine. Spinning back around towards Damien, she shooed him away as if he were some annoying gnat.

  “But I don’t have all of my things.”

  “Yes, you do. I told you that I gave you back all that I had. As I was packing up more stuff, I found the other trophies and FedExed them to you, remember? I have proof via the tracking number that you received them.”

  “No, no, no, baby. I left behind one thing… you. I’ve come to get my things, and I’m not leaving without you.” He started to embrace her and she stepped back, almost tripping over the threshold. “Come on, baby… I saw that your house was for sale and I didn’t want to chance not being able to talk to you or see you again, see your face… plead my case… We have a lot to discuss.”

  “Please, stop. I’m married!” she said through gritted teeth as she thrust the huge diamond in his face and wiggled her fingers about.

  Damien’s smile slowly faded, and then his face grew tight with anger as if, in some strange way, he’d been betrayed.

  “Married?! Who? When the fuck did this happen?!”

  The moving crew slowed down and craned their necks in their direction, no doubt aiming to eavesdrop on the juicy exchange.

  “It doesn’t matter to who. Please leave!” She pointed back at his car.

  “I deserve an explanation! After all we’ve been through, shit! I understand you dating other guys, baby. I even get you fucking someone else till I got my shit together, but to actually go and get married?! Are you fucking serious?! How could you do this to me, Sahara?!”

  She couldn’t believe her damn ears. The audacity of the man…

  “Damien, if you don’t get your ass away from my damn door!”

  “Or what?! You gonna call Leonard?! Fuck Leonard!” He bumped his chest into her and before she could even part her lips again, he shoved her to the side, almost toppling her. The sun was blocked by a monster then—a reserved creature of the day who turned into a possessed demon at night…

  …Her damn Virgo husband.

  Someone had woken the giant, and there was no way to push him back up the beanstalk…

  Vangelis spread his arms across the doorway and looked down at Damien as if he were a piece of dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.

  “Who tha fuck are you?” her ex questioned.

  “She asked you to leave,” Vangelis stated calmly, though the way he sucked his teeth said that he was far from composed.

  “You must be one of the movers. Get back to work, man! If you’re helping her pack up her shit, then do it, but stay outta grown folks’ business. This is between me and Sahara.”

  Vangelis reached slowly into his back pocket and pulled out a huge hammer. The damn thing looked heavier than the moon and sun combined. He turned it around in his hands, a sinister smirk on his face.

  “This hammer has been in my Greek family for generations.
My father had it, his father had it, my grandfather’s father had it, and so on and so forth. Now, I have it. Isn’t it nice?” He began to beat the damn thing against his palm as he glared at Damien and, for the first time in her life, she saw true fright in the man’s eyes. “I almost threw it away because I hate clutter, but now I’m so glad I didn’t. Looks like it’ll come in handy.”

  “Sahara!” Damien screamed as he glared at her from over Vangelis’ shoulder.

  “Why are you calling her? She can’t help you. Good thing I’m a doctor because you’re going to need one if you don’t forget you ever knew her and go on your merry little way.”

  “What tha fuck?! Maaaan! Do you know who the hell I am?! I will—”

  “I am not going to yell at you, sir. I am not going to scream and throw things, either. I am just going to take this hammer and crush your fucking skull in if you don’t get the fuck my wife’s property. Simple as that.”

  Damien’s eyes grew huge as he stumbled back with wobbly legs as if he were drunk and trying to recall his way back home. Seconds later, the slam of his car door echoed, followed by the squeal of his tires.

  Vangelis leisurely slid the hammer back into his pocket, closed and locked the door, and returned to the kitchen. She stood there with her mouth open, speechless, totally in shock that she could have quite easily been witness to a murder, perhaps one that was long overdue.

  Soon, she heard her husband singing once again, as if nothing had happened.

  “If nautical nonsense is something you wish! Sponge! Bob! Square! Pants! Then jump on tha deck, and flop like uh fish! Hey, Sahara, join in! I need you for the chorus!”

  She shook her head and resumed her chore, picking up pieces of paper to discard.

  “Sponge Bob Square Pants…”

  “Awww, come on! You can do better than that. I barely heard you. Say it with your chest like you mean it!” the insane man directed. “Or do we need to hammer out a practice session?” He burst out laughing, amused with his horrid play on words.