Back Forever

by Karen Booth

  He brushed my hair from my face. “You’re so beautiful. I’m such a lucky bastard.” His stunning eyes, the green that had indelibly marked my brain, gleamed in the candlelight. “I can’t believe I get to have you all to myself. It feels like a dream.”

  Watching and hearing him say that, all while we were close enough that I could feel his heartbeat, was a dream in itself. “Today was amazing. You are so ridiculously handsome. Today made it that much more apparent.” I dragged my finger down his chest to the sole remaining button, un-tucking his shirt. “I can’t imagine being any happier.”

  He dug his hands into my hair, cupping the back of my head possessively as he kissed me. I eased to my back and his hand traveled to the strap on my nightgown, flicking it off my shoulder. His mouth found my neck, then my collarbone as he teased my breast through the silky fabric with the tips of his fingers.

  I arched my back and wrapped my leg around his, rubbing the back of his calf with my ankle. “We need to get you out of these pants.” I bucked against him as his thigh settled between my legs. “And the shirt. And whatever else it is that you’re wearing.”

  He sat back on his knees and wrestled with his shirt, having to tug on the sleeves because he hadn’t bothered to do undo the cuffs. In a flash, it went sailing over his shoulder.

  I propped up on my elbows. “Well? Keep going.”

  He shook his head. “No. That’s your job. On the wedding night, the bride takes off the groom’s pants. It’s a rule.”

  I chewed on my lower lip. “If I must.”

  “I insist.”

  I inched forward, one of my legs between his, as he remained kneeling. My focus was drawn to the narrow trail of hair below his belly button, the one that led beneath the waistband of his pants. I kissed him softly there as he dug one hand into my hair and slipped the other down the front of my nightgown, cupping my breast. The blood rushed beneath my skin, flooding it with warmth. “Like this?” I peered up at him as I unhooked the front tab of his trousers and undid the inner button. Slowly, I slid the zipper down.

  “Exactly like that.”

  I pressed another kiss to his belly as I shimmied the pants down to his knees. “You’re going to need to hop down, honey. So I can finish the job.”

  He leaned forward, kissing my forehead before easing off the bed and stepping out of his pants. I scooted to the edge of the bed and he stood between my legs. He took the hem of my nightgown into his hands, pulling it up as if the clocks had stopped and we had as much time as he cared to take. He’s killing me. Inch by inch, the air cooled my skin, silk traveling the length of my body until I raised my arms and he dropped it in a puddle on the floor. His gray and white striped boxer shorts were the only thing standing between us and I made quick work of those. Everything else between us was standing at attention.

  Oh my, Mr. Penman. I looked up at him again—he had a most smug look of pride on his face, as if he’d accomplished a grand feat, and who was I to do anything other than match his showing with one of my own?

  My hands went to his waist and inched around to his back. I loved drawing my fingers up and down the long column of his spine, feeling those sexy dimples above his ass. I licked my lips and gently took him into my mouth. He groaned his approval as I caressed and cradled him with my tongue. His legs tensed, his back arched slightly. It wasn’t my intent to take him all the way—I merely wanted to give him some of the undivided attention he deserved. The wedding had been too much about me. Plus, I knew how much he loved it.

  I looped my tongue and increased the suction, an action that prompted a response beyond a grunt. “Oh my God, Claire.” He combed his fingers into my hair, raking them past my ears and urging my chin up. “Darling, that feels so good and it just wouldn’t be right on our wedding night if that was the first act.” I carefully let him go and he dropped to one knee, holding both sides of my head. “I want to make love to my beautiful wife.” He kissed me for only a moment, then his mouth traveled to my breast. He sucked and licked so delicately that it felt as if my soul was melting.

  Being with him, like this, was so wonderfully freeing. After everything we’d been through, we were together. I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I got to keep him. We were starting a life together, a real life, the kind that everyone wants, and I knew why—it was incredible.

  I kissed him and wriggled my way back on the mattress. “Come here.”

  “I love it when you beckon me.”

  I smiled. “I’ll try to beckon more often.”

  He climbed onto the bed and descended on me, with soft, tender kisses and a hand through my hair. I opened myself to him—in every way—I didn’t even close my eyes. I wanted to look into that stunning face of his and see the man I was so lucky to have.

  He drove inside purposefully. Wow. He really did have reason to feel proud. I clutched the sides of his face and our kisses became a torrent of love and passion and heat, all swirled into one. He pressed down on my pelvic bone and I lifted my knees higher to let him in as far as he would go and it felt so sublime, so satisfying. It took my breath away.

  He rocked against me faster now and the pressure was building. He dropped his head and I kissed his forehead, feeling the heat radiate from his skin.

  “Look at me,” I whispered. In the faint candlelight, his eyes fluttered open, showing me a dark intensity rimmed by soft, feathery lashes. His lips, the mole on his left cheek, that absurdly angular jaw—it was all so perfect and all mine. It left my insides feeling soft and gooey.

  “I love this. I don’t think I could want anything else. Ever.” He smoothed my hair back from my face and shifted his weight to an even more gratifying place. He read my cues as my breath hitched in my chest, taking longer, harder strokes.

  “Oh God, Chris.” I had to close my eyes. It was too overwhelming—the pleasure and his beauty, coupled, was an overdose of amazing things. “Yes.”

  “My favorite word out of your mouth.” He raised his upper body and picked up his pace. His own breaths came fast and shallow, the tension in his body more apparent.

  The pressure pushed against the dam, pulsing and ebbing closer until I couldn’t take it anymore and I let go. Chris quickly followed. Waves crashed and washed away, only to be followed by new ones. Eventually, they became soft and fleeting, replaced by contentment.

  He carefully lowered himself alongside me and I curled into him. “I love you so much, Chris.”

  He held me as if he’d never let me go. “I love you so much, Claire Abby-Penman.”

  I reared my head back. “That sounds better every time you say it.”

  “Just wait until perfect strangers start saying it. Then your mind will really be blown.” A happy wiggle happened between us. “Is that?”

  “It is. Somebody is apparently awake.”

  He lowered his head, kissing my stomach. “Hello, Nipper. Mum and Dad love you too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Never before had I been grateful for turbulence. One more jiggle and I might have to be the first man to induct a pregnant woman into the Mile-High Club. The plane to St. Marten pitched, it dropped, it bounced. Claire grasped my arm with an iron grip, leaning into me and digging in her nails, hard—totally worth it.

  “I hate it when it does that.” She glanced nervously out the window. “It’s not even stormy out.”

  “I don’t know.” I pressed a kiss to her cheek, staring down into her cleavage. “It doesn’t bother me.”

  The black top she’d chosen for travel was everything I could have asked for—a V-neck just low enough to display the incredibly sexy swell of her breasts, especially from my perspective. It was nipped in at the waist, flaunting the curves that were more maddening every day. Never in a million years had I anticipated that my pregnant wife would be such non-stop temptation.

  Thank goodness for three whole nights, just the two of us, in my villa in St. Barts. Our villa. I had to start remembering to call things “our” and not “my”. I l
oved the sound of “our”. Even better—“pregnant wife” had the most incredible ring to it.

  Three nights wasn’t as much time as I would’ve wanted to spend stark naked and in bed with Claire, but three was better than none, and with the crazy realities of life at home, we didn’t have much choice. Christmas was in four days, so we had to be back for that. Claire had a major update due to Laura Simmons on January fifth.

  Claire’s black top tormented me even further on the short flight into St. Barts. The rickety old airplane never maintained any one altitude, and her breasts jiggled and jostled as she clung to my arm. It was a miracle I was able to walk off the plane without my pants broadcasting to the other passengers how much my wife was making me barmy.

  Jean-Luc, the caretaker’s son met us at the airport terminal. “Monsieur Penman, Madame Penman.” It was apparent he knew that he was skating on thin ice with Claire as he would only look at her for a fleeting second. He’d taken her daughter’s virginity the last time we were here, so there was good reason for staying under the radar. Still, he retained a professional air.

  “I’ve told you dozens of times, Jean-Luc. Please, call me Chris.” Even with my sunglasses on, I had to shield my face from the blazing afternoon sun. “We’re on island time. No worrying about titles and formalities.”

  “Yes, of course. Chris.” He grabbed one of our suitcases and hoisted it into the back of the car. “Would you like to drive or shall I?”

  “I’ll take it.” I put my arm around Claire’s shoulder. “Precious cargo.”

  He tossed me the keys and climbed into the backseat while I held the door for Claire.

  A little bit of turbulence in a jet had nothing on bumpy, virtually unpaved St. Barts roads. Eyes on the road, Penman. I didn’t even really have to look. Claire’s jiggling cleavage occupied my periphery and it was stunning.

  We got to the house and I was quick to dispatch Jean-Luc. “You don’t need to worry about the bags. I’ve got it from here. You go enjoy your day.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to make sure the new cook has stocked the kitchen.” He pointed to the front door.

  “We’ve got it. I’ll call you if there are any problems.” I keyed into the door. “Go ahead, darling, but don’t go in our room yet.”

  Claire started down the white stucco steps to the villa courtyard.

  “What time should I come by tomorrow to check on you?” Jean-Luc asked.

  I realized then that Jean-Luc would only be cramping our style when I’d been waiting for one thing…time alone with Claire, with zero chance of interruptions. “You know, we’re only here for three nights. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

  “Are you sure? You pay me to take care of things.”

  “And I’ll call you if we need anything. That goes for the new cook. She can come for dinner tomorrow night, but otherwise, tell her to stay away.”

  “Stay away?”

  “Yes. Stay away. Mrs. Penman and I need our time alone. Completely alone.”

  A look of recognition finally washed over his face. “Ah, I see.”

  Nothing like being a little slow on the uptake. “Thank you for everything.”

  I hurried down the stairs with the suitcases. “Claire?”

  “In here.” She’d wandered into the living room off the kitchen and was looking out through the picture window down to the churning sea. “What should we do today? Beach?”

  Not unless you want sand in some uncomfortable places. “No way. You and I aren’t going anywhere.”

  She turned, frowning adorably. Then she seemed to catch the look in my eye. “Oh really?” She gasped when I swept her into my arms.

  “I couldn’t do this upstairs. Carrying a pregnant woman down a flight of stairs seemed reckless at best.”

  “Please don’t throw me in the pool.” She clutched my neck and leaned into me.

  “Maybe later. For now, I have to carry you over the threshold.”

  She giggled. “Really?”

  “Yes. I didn’t have a chance to do it at home.” I strode across the courtyard and leaned with my knee into the wall for leverage as I opened the door. With as much drama as I could muster, I walked her over the threshold. “There we go. That’s how you do it.” I kissed her and placed her feet on the floor.

  She gasped again when she looked into the room. “Chris. Oh my God. It’s gorgeous.”

  I’d had two hundred white tulips flown in from a flower importer in St. Marten. In vases all over the room, it was as if we were at a flower show. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, none-too-subtly pushing up on her breasts with my arms. The ocean view has nothing on this.

  I kissed her neck and she hummed. “That feels so good.”

  “This top you’re wearing has been tormenting me all day long. Now it’s time for me to get my reward for being a good boy.” I pulled the garment up along her body and dropped it to the floor. The black bra she had on, lace that barely contained her stunning breasts, had everything below my waist hot, tight, and on alert.

  “It has?” She turned and looked up at me with those big blue eyes, her chest nestled between us.

  I need her right now. “Yes.” My brain stopped working—my dick was on duty now. I took off my shirt and pants in record time. The boxer shorts went right with the pants. No use wasting time. I reached around and unhooked her bra. Breasts. Lovely, lovely breasts. In my mouth. Now. I gripped her ribcage and teased her nipple with the tip of my tongue. She moaned sweetly.

  One hand slid to her waist and shimmied down the knit skirt she was wearing. One feel of her lace panties and I had to look. Oh shit. Those had to go, too. Now.

  My lips tore into hers. It felt as if I would never kiss her hard enough. On autopilot, as if I wasn’t myself, I walked her backward until we were up against the door. Claim her. I grasped her hand and put it behind my neck, then reached down and cupped her ass, hoisting her up and bracing her back.

  Her legs clamped around my waist. “Ooh. This is a new one,” she purred.

  Wait. Door sex? What are you doing? My brain decided to step in. “Do you think this will be okay? You know, for the baby?”

  She nodded. “I think it’s fine. The baby is still so small. Just don’t drop me.”

  “Never.” The mid-afternoon light glinted off her collarbone. I steeled myself, praying for restraint. “I don’t know. Something about this seems wrong.” I grunted when she licked her lower lip. “And something about it is incredibly hot.” I eased my head back to see it all—her full breasts within reach of my mouth, her ripe little mound of a belly. “If I didn’t want you so badly, I wouldn’t even suggest it.” My eyes continued to rove over her. So sexy. I reached under her ass, finding her wet already.

  She closed her eyes as I rubbed in tiny circles. She hummed. I kissed her. Enough foreplay.

  I eased my way in, wanting to be as gentle as possible. She surprised me when her eyes flew open. “Oh.” A huge smile spread across her face. “Wow. That’s different.”

  “You’re okay?”

  Her eyes closed again. “I’m better than okay.”

  She molded around me—intense, clinging heat that made it feel as if I might detonate. I sucked in a deep breath, grappling with the sublime way it felt to have her body around me. That’s it. The air was sticky and sweet, her blonde hair stuck to her shoulders in tendrils, even a few draped down on to her chest. My body felt as though it was on fire, the need for her so unquenched that it had to be doused. And it wasn’t as though we hadn’t just made love the night before or had a quickie that morning, it was the freedom of the moment, away from everything at home—phones, demands. Away, from everything, for now.

  Her breasts bounced when I popped her up to get a better grip on her now-slippery and sweaty body. Careful. Animal urges battled inside me, which I had to fight off—I didn’t want to drive us both to our destination—I wanted to go sailing off a cliff, but she needed gentle. I would be nothing but careful. I gr
ound against her slowly with every forward motion. She bucked her hips into me, moaning and gasping. Our wet and eager mouths slid all over each other, as we had the first night we made love, in this room, after an interminable wait.

  “Oh God, Chris.” Her eyes flashed open.

  Is something wrong?

  She pitched forward and bit my shoulder, digging into my biceps with her fingers. “Oh God, yes. Do that.”

  Everything’s right.

  The pressure in my groin was unmistakable. I was a whisper from rocketing into space, but I had to keep going, take my time, for her. Her ankles locked harder around my waist. The urge to unleash the beast inside me was overwhelming and still, I kept it controlled. Slow. Slow. Slow. She was tightening around me, which made my head swim. Hold on. Hold on to her. With an abrupt wave of sweet mercy, she gave way, knocking her head back against the wall, arching into me with such force that I thought I might fall over.

  Every part of her body that touched mine hung on for dear life, especially the parts engaged in the release, which contracted around me in deep and powerful pulses. She squeezed the peak out of me—it rushed from my body in waves, deeply satisfying waves.

  We were both breathing harder than we do at the end of a run. Claire’s chest was heaving. There was no ignoring it, even after I’d just had my needs met. Round two would be soon, perhaps after a snack.

  “That was incredible.” She dragged her finger down the center of my chest. “I think you earn major husband bonus points for not only accomplishing sex against a door, but sex against a door with a pregnant woman.”

  She loosened the grip of her legs around me and I gently lowered her to the floor. I took her hand and towed her to the bed, where I threw back the covers. “As long as that wasn’t too much for you, I will take all of the husband bonus points I can get.”

  She climbed into bed and I drew back the curtains. The sky was a brilliant pink and orange now that the sun was starting to set. “Trust me. That wasn’t too much. It was just right.”