Sex Sessions: After The Cut (Camera Tales #2)

by Charisse Spiers

  "Till death do us part," I say.

  He looks into my eyes. "You want to get out of here? I think I need some alone time with my wife."

  That sounds more amazing than I ever would have thought. We defied the odds. We beat the statistics. We found something and jumped all in, regardless of how crazy it looked. Instead of listening to reason in our heads we let our hearts lead, and we ended up here . . . together and completely happy.

  Completely in love.

  I touch his lips with my thumb, and then take a kiss for the road. "Lead the way."

  Saxton

  I slide the keycard into the slot and open the door just enough it won't lock again when the green light blinks, unlocking our hotel room. Our stuff is already here. I brought it earlier this morning when I checked in since we will be on a flight back home tomorrow, and then requested a member of staff to help me set up upon my call. All I can do is hope and pray to God that it's done.

  After our first dance as husband and wife, the others joined us for one more and then we said our goodbyes. I thanked my sister and Meg for everything they've done and extended a place to stay if they ever want to come to the west coast for a few days. Kambry hugged her brother tight for several long seconds. I believe it was a much-needed moment between them from the way it looked. Then I shook his hand like a man and promised to never make him regret giving her away to me. It was a mature notion and I'll never take it for granted, because if the roles were in reverse I imagine it'd be a hard task to do.

  My parents walked us out with smiles on both of their faces, threatened me with my life if I didn't bring Kambry to the house soon, and we loaded up in the limo waiting out front. Now here we are, standing at this very door. I wanted no paperwork standing in my way when we arrived at the hotel.

  My nerves are on edge. I want this to be everything she's ever dreamed of. I didn't give her the lengthy engagement or the huge wedding that so many girls require, and she didn't ask for it, but I want this to still be special for her. This is the first and only wedding night for both of it. There is no do-over here.

  She takes my left hand, her finger rubbing over my wedding band. I look at our connected hands and then at her. "It's okay. I'm nervous too. It's kind of funny right? Since we've done it umpteen dozen times before . . . "

  No words come out of my mouth at first. I silently listen to my heart pounding against my chest. She's right. I'm nervous as hell and I have no idea why. I've had sex more times than I can count, with her and with other women before her, starting at the age of fifteen in my very own bed. All boys suck at first, but each time and with each new person we learn. I've never had any verbal complaints or rumors spread that I was bad at sex. The knowledge that I have is actually the opposite. For me it's not a proud reflection now that I'm here. I'm actually kind of ashamed if I were honest. I wish I could have given her a third of what she's given me.

  Even with her, I've seen her body naked more times in the short period we've been together than some couples do in a year. The sex ranges from daily to sometimes multiple times in a day even after this long. There are times we make love, others we fuck. We've savored each other slow and steady and we've gone at it fast and hard. Positions change. We've been vanilla and we've been chocolate, the level of kink varying based on mood. Every single time is engrained in my memory forever, because I'm so far deep in love with her that there's no way out alone and still survive; but in all of those times, I've never been as nervous as I am right now. Not even the first time.

  My eyes remain on her, still wearing that dress with her hair hanging over her shoulders in big loose curls. Her cheeks are pink, her lips are full, and her eyes are clear. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Like really made you understand?"

  "Almost daily, but even on days you don't voice it aloud, if you look at me like you are now I know just the same, and maybe even more."

  I grab the back of her head and force her lips against mine, my back hitting against the door to hold it open and free my hand. It goes to the small of her back, clenching the lace fabric in my fist. Her breathing is heavy and loud as she kisses me back, turning me on more.

  She pushes forward and I let her, the door opening with each step backward I take, until we navigate past it and it shuts behind her. One by one the buttons open down my shirt, our mouths remaining glued together at different points as our heads move.

  My hand relaxes a little more with each new touch from the tip of her tongue on mine. A small zipper leads me up her back until I find the start between her shoulder blades. I lower it, unzipping her dress in a fairly quick fashion, and at the exact time that she finishes with the last button.

  She pulls away from me and looks up into my eyes. Her lips are the color of Crimson. "Tell me I'm not the only one that's nervous," she whispers.

  I grab her hand and place it over my heart, letting her feel my erratic heartbeat. "There isn't a prior time in my entire life that I've been as nervous as I am right now."

  "Why are we nervous? It doesn't make sense."

  My fingers grip around the wide strips of fabric on her shoulders, as well as the straps of her bra, and I peel them down her arms together, revealing her upper body. Chill bumps become noticeable all over her skin. "I don't know. Maybe it's because there is no more question if you'll be with anyone else this way for the rest of your life and vice versa. Maybe, for me, it's worrying that sex with me will get old for you. Or it could be that the next time we have sex we know it'll be different. We will no longer be breaking the rules set in the beginning of time. I never said I didn't agree with some of your parents’ morals, they were morals I was taught too, but only in how they went about teaching them. Husbands and wives are what sex was created for even though we didn't abide by it. Now we get to experience it in the purest form."

  I remove her bra. My hands follow the dress to the waist, pushing it over her ass until it falls down her legs to the floor, leaving her in only a pair of heels and panties. She pushes my shirt over my shoulders, letting it drop to my wrists where I finish removing it. "I'll never get tired of sex with you, Saxton."

  Her shaky hands go to my belt. She pulls it from the leather loop and toward her, so that she can remove the metal spike from the hole. "You want to know why I'm glad I waited for you? Why I'm glad I married the guy I gave my virginity to now?"

  My arms outstretch and my palms press against each wall to my side in the short, narrow entryway. "Yes, because I thought you didn't wait for yourself."

  She unbuttons my slacks slowly, and then lowers the zipper, revealing the front of my boxer briefs. "I didn't . . . mostly. I was scared my parents would find out and I'd get in trouble, but there were times that I thought hard about it. I can remember a couple of times that I was able to sneak enough time with him to do it, to get it over with, and one of those times I came really close to just giving in; mostly just to spite them because they were smothering me."

  "What stopped you?"

  "I knew he wasn't who I wanted to give that part of myself to. It didn't matter how bad I wanted to do it, because I wanted it to be with someone that it was never a question when it came down to actually doing it. I didn't want to weigh the option of yes or no." She strips me bare. I step out when my pants and underwear are at a heap at my feet and then kick them out of the way. "With you I never thought twice about my answer. It was always yes. And let me tell you something. It was every bit worth the eighteen-year wait. I can stand here now and know I'll never get tired of sex with you, because to me it's already the best, and I have no one else to compare it to. You can make love to me and know you're the only one that's been there, and that's special to me."

  "I wish I could say the same," I say through gritted teeth, scared to blink, and trying to refrain from letting her see me cry for a second time today. There are very few times a man is allowed to cry: his wedding, the birth of his children, or the death of a parent or spouse. That's it. The first of those three have been used.


  "I don't."

  Her response throws me off. "What?"

  She shrugs. "Maybe it's different for a female, but I'm glad you were with other girls before me, because to know you've been with others, some most likely better than me in every way, and then choose to keep only me forever is the only thing I need to forget that I'm not your first. Being your last is so much better."

  "Fuck, Kambry," I whisper, instantly dropping my arms and picking her up at my front. That damn moisture aggravating the hell out of my eye runs from me before I can catch it.

  I turn my head toward my shoulder to try and stop it when she wraps her legs around my waist, but she forces me to look at her. "Stop trying to hide your emotions from me. I'm not going to think you're any less of a man for shedding a few tears when we are talking about us. I want to know you're in this as deep as I am. I want to know how you feel. I want to feel how you feel."

  "I'd rather show you."

  Kambry

  He turns to walk us further into the room and I look up for the first time, no longer sidetracked by conversation. "Oh, Saxton . . . "

  The room is littered with red rose petals, starting on the fancy white comforter in the shape of a heart and cascading across until they drop off onto the floor where they get more scattered the further from the bed they get, the last one at his feet. In the middle of the heart sits a wrapped box. Champagne on ice anchors one side on the nightstand.

  I reach over and shut off the lights on the wall, leaving the room in an amber glow from the candles randomly set out in the room. The only overhead lights now on are the two dim spotlights above the bed. My eyes scan the room over and over, unsure of where to really start. "Do you like it?"

  I wipe my eyes on my forearm. "It's perfect."

  He walks me to the bed and lays me on top so carefully I feel like a glass doll. I lock my feet around his waist as he stands upright, but he grabs one ankle, prying it off. One hand cups my calf while the other removes my heel, letting it drop to the floor. Then he does the same with the other side, before peeling my panties down my legs. He leans in and his body comes to stop just above mine. "I have something for you before we go any further."

  I shake my head, pointing at the sapphire and diamond necklace still around my neck. "You've given me enough. Between the guitar, the ring, and this necklace, not to mention the dresses, my birthday, and the puppy that I miss already, it's too much. Luckily I trust Meredith with my life or I would not leave her responsible for ensuring my fur baby gets off that plane in LA. Take it back or save it for Christmas. I haven't even gotten to give you your gift yet."

  He smiles at me. "I can't do either of those things."

  I narrow my eyes at him. "Stop showering me with gifts. It makes me feel awkward. You know I don't expect them nor do I need them."

  "Just open it."

  He hands me the black box wrapped with a white bow. "Fine."

  I pop it off and remove the lid. A folded up white piece of paper sits inside on top of black tissue paper. My brows scrunch. "What is it?"

  "Open it."

  I do as instructed. It's a copy of an original document. I skim the wording, gawk at the humongous number nestled in the jumble of words, and end on the signature of a name I don't recognize. "Wait. What exactly is this?"

  He flashes me a grin. "I got an offer on my house and I accepted with the stipulation that they close within thirty days so I can be out."

  I blink at him like an idiot. I'm not the smartest girl, but I'm not the dumbest either. "Offer? As in sold? When did you put it up for sale? It's been just shy of a week."

  "Monday morning. The second I knew you'd take me back I contacted my realtor. I told her I'd up her commission from the sale a little if she made it a priority. She had it ready for open house within hours. By the time the first offer came in and I realized how fast I could move it we were engaged, so I wanted it to be a wedding present. And because I got two offers I was able to take the highest. I've talked to the homeowner of the other house already and my banker. It wasn't easy, but when I want something bad enough I make it happen, so I worked it out to where we can do a double closing in the same day."

  I stare at him; trying to absorb everything he's telling me. "That smaller house on the beach is really going to be ours?"

  "Yes," he laughs. "But you do realize that most women want a bigger house and not a smaller one right?"

  "I've always been a little weird, but I love that house. It has character. I've thought about it a lot since you showed me the key. I can see our family there."

  He kisses me. "I love you, baby, and I'm glad you're not like most girls. I just want whatever makes you happy."

  The waterfall that is my tears begins. "I love you too. I'm a little overwhelmed. Happy. I'm happy. It's just hard to believe we are actually starting a life together. A week ago I thought I had lost you forever. Then you came back and it's been full throttle ever since. It's just all hitting me now. I never have to go to bed without kissing you goodnight or wake up alone ever again. It's just overwhelming. I'm a wreck."

  "I know, baby, and I'm sorry. I should have never done that to you, but it took me a little while to figure out that I'd rather be bad for you than live without you. There's just one more thing."

  "Bad or good?"

  He smirks. "To me good, to you, it depends."

  I laugh through my tears and shove at his chest. "God, just tell me. What is it?"

  "Well, since you're such a simple girl, downsizing and all, and I'm such a frugal guy, I have enough equity from the sale of my house after the remaining loan is paid off and the realtor gets her cut that we can pay cash for you a brand new car and still put some back so that we have plenty of wiggle room—meaning we don't even have to touch my existing finances for a while if we didn't make another dime from filming—until we figure out what the hell we're going to do when this porn thing ends with us."

  "A car? I haven't even thought of that since I left mine behind."

  "I didn't figure you had, but it's a necessity. Not that I mind you driving my truck, but I'm not leaving my wife without a vehicle if I need mine. Period."

  My emotions are nowhere close to calming from the raging storm they've become. How we always end up in deep conversations naked I'll never know. It's like things are backwards. Adam and Eve wanted clothing and we want nudity.

  I can't escape the fact that he spoils me. He treats me like a queen. He's the best man, and I get to call him my husband, but I want to learn to be his partner even when I feel like he's so good at taking care of me. It's hard for me when I've been working so hard to feel independent, but I can also see that it makes him happy. It's really quite unfair to him.

  "Then I'll give you what I've made if you want to do that. I can help."

  "No. That's yours. You earned it."

  I go into panic mode like I used to when my mother wouldn't let me breathe, always hovering over me and checking on me in my room at least every fifteen minutes when I was home. My entire adolescence I had no room to grow, to learn, or to mature. I had no chance at independence. It's why being an adult is still a bit of a challenge for me. It's why I'm scared to spend too much money in fear of having nothing left. Managing finances is like a foreign language because I've never had to do it before. I never had the option of getting a job or learning responsibility aside from cleaning my room. "Same as you. What good is it to me? You won't let me spend it anyway! Please, let me feel like I contribute to our life. It's a part in this I need."

  "Why won't you just let me take care of you? It's my job, and one I gladly accept. It's what I want to do."

  "Please." I wipe my eyes again. "I want you to feel like I'm your equal. I want you to teach me how to do our finances together. You're smart. I can see that. I don't want you to support me, though. I want us to support each other. I want to feel like an adult. I've been babied all of my life."

  His eyes fall. "I'm not trying to control you or what you have. Do I make you
feel like you wouldn't have the same access to finances as me even if you were not a contributing income? I didn't want a prenup. It's all ours, Kambry, but at the same time I've had a few years to play with the money I've earned on top of saving it. You haven't. I just wanted you to keep what was rightfully yours."

  "No," I whisper. "It's all together or all separate. I'm not going to sit on money while you pay for everything. I can't. I want you to treat me like an adult even though I know you have good intentions. I want responsibility. I physically need it."

  His face lights back up as a smile forms. He takes a deep breath. "Okay, hardhead." He kisses my forehead. "Even though it's beautiful. Under one condition."

  "What?"

  "When you find out what our finances look like before and after we put them together, you can't mentally separate them as yours and mine when it comes to you needing or wanting something. No matter what the number, it's ours. I need you to remember that for a few years I did nothing but work and save. The only two big purchases I made were my house and truck, so don't freak out like you just did when you saw how much the offer on the house was, and I want you to fix up our house the way you want it. The money is yours to use as you see fit."

  "You said one condition, but that is two things."

  "But they go together."

  I glance down the length of his body, sighting between my boobs. Abs. That's what I see. The further down, the closer it is to mine, until there is no gap at the point between my legs where his pelvis connects with my skin. I finally consider this moment for what it is: our wedding night. All I can concentrate on is his naked body over mine and the part of him that is sitting relaxed between my thighs. I toss the paper and box aside, then wrap my body around his. He's still smiling. Geez I married a hot man. I'm going to love looking at him for the rest of my life. If he wants to talk more it's not going to be for at least the next twenty minutes.

  His smile falls and he looks at me. There he is. My large friend that brings amazing orgasms has come out to play. He's hard. His chest begins heaving up and down and it's hard to remain serious. "You just got wet."