by Lucy Monroe
"I thought I'd do the dishes since you cooked."
"I have a better idea."
She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. The message there sent her body into immediate nuclear meltdown. "You didn't even remember me," she said in a desperate attempt to remind both of them why making love wasn't a good idea.
"I've spent every night for six weeks dreaming about you. When I touch you, it's like connecting with the rest of my body. You didn't make a mistake with me. We belong together, and one of these days you're going to believe that."
"You left."
"I was coming back."
"You forgot our marriage."
"So, let's get married again. I'll remember this one, I promise. You can wear a white Mexican dress with lots of lace, and I'll hold your hand in front of a priest in the oldest church for three hundred miles."
"You want to get married again?"
"Yes, but can we wait for Moonbeam to get down here? She can fly down tomorrow, and we can have the wedding the next day."
Her thoughts were swirling like a whirlpool after a storm. "You want your mom there?"
"I'd like my brothers, too, but I don't know if they can get here fast enough."
She squeezed her eyes shut to make sure she wasn't dreaming. It was just like the night six weeks ago, but this time he was sober, and she knew it. He meant it. He wanted to stay married to her. He wanted another wedding, one he could remember.
"A dress will sure cover a lot more than my original wedding outfit," she said, trying to lighten his intense regard with a joke.
"Maybe you can wear it on our honeymoon." She couldn't answer because he'd given in to the living desire shimmering between the two of them and kissed her. Hard masculine lips cherished her mouth instead of devouring it, and any protest she would have made died unspoken.
She didn't want to fight him. She wanted to believe they could have a future together because the feelings he invoked in her were real and they were strong.
Still buzzing from the pleasure he'd given her earlier, her body reacted to his kiss like a power plant on overload, every nerve ending sparking with electric intensity. She needed body contact. Now.
Untying her robe with a jerk, she let the purple silk fall open. One step and her body was pressed against his, her breasts nestled against the hot, naked planes of his chest. It felt incredible, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to experience all of him against all of her.
With impatient movements, she pushed his shorts down and then had to put a brake on herself and pull the waistband out so she could free his impressive erection when it got caught on the fabric and he groaned.
She wanted it; she wanted him with a feral desire that came from deep inside her.
His entire body jerked when her hand closed possessively around the part of his body she wanted buried deep in her.
And still his lips cherished hers, his tongue brushing the seem of her lips with gentle insistence until she opened her mouth. She sucked on his tongue, kissing him with aggressive desire she'd only ever let loose with this man.
On a fundamental level she trusted him more than she'd ever trusted another human being in her life.
That trust had been betrayed, but he was intent on making up for it, and she was of a mind to let him. At least if it meant joining his body with hers right now.
She caressed his hard length, stroking up and down and gently cupping him at the base.
A shout erupted out of him that she swallowed into her mouth, taking the sound captive in her throat as if it belonged to her as much as he did.
And he did belong to her.
At least for right now.
Two big hands cupped her backside and lifted. She had to relinquish her hold on his hardness as he physically lifted her so she could straddle him. She locked her legs behind his back and moaned into his mouth as the broad tip of his penis pressed against the still swollen and already very wet flesh of her opening. He teased her, letting his head slide inside of her a little deeper with each thrust, but not giving her the deep penetration she craved.
She tried to press down, but his hold on her was too tight.
She ripped her mouth from his. "I want you inside me, Colton. All the way!"
But instead of lowering her body, he lifted her farther up until he barely maintained contact between their two sexes. Then she felt his mouth on one aching nipple.
He sucked gently and kissed her, laving her breast with his tongue, rubbing his stubble-roughened cheek against flesh already highly sensitized. "You've got the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen."
And to prove he meant what he said, he turned and gave her other swollen curve the same treatment, using his tongue and lips in ways that brought tears of frustration spilling out of her eyes.
It felt so good, but she wanted, needed, his complete possession.
"Please, Colt, don't make me wait!"
He went still. "You call me that in my dreams."
He really did remember her in his dreams. She'd called him Colt from almost the first, and he'd liked it. "This isn't a dream."
"No, it's not." He started moving, and then she felt a wall against her back.
With torturous slowness, he lowered her body until she had the same maddeningly shallow penetration he'd given her before.
Dark brown eyes caught hers. "You are mine."
"Yes."
His mouth came down on hers again with more passion than before, but no less care. It was all pleasure, and then he thrust up into her, seating himself completely in her body. She gasped at the full feeling, shocked anew by the length and breadth of his excited flesh.
It was too much, but she couldn't let him leave her.
He rocked his hips, thrusting inside her with short but powerful movements, caressing her insides, stretching her to a point that was just this side of pain, but was oh, so full of blissful gratification for her feminine flesh.
His kiss grew increasingly demanding until his tongue possessed her mouth with the same effectiveness of his erection in her body.
She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and tightened her legs around him, keeping him deep inside her as they moved together against the kitchen wall.
Feelings that were so much more than physical buffeted her heart and her body as pleasure spiraled a notch tighter with each movement of his big body against hers. Her muscles locked in preparation for climax. Incredibly, he swelled even more inside her as his body pounded against hers.
The pleasure burst and splintered inside her, so strong that she stopped breathing for several seconds, a soundless scream vibrating in her throat as her body bowed against his. His shout was loud and feral as he tore his head away from hers and climaxed with more power than anything she'd ever known.
"Fayre." It was a rough shout of completion, of continued need, of absolute possession.
Her lungs expanded, and she cried out, "Love me!" as his powerful orgasm spilled her body over into a second one.
"Yes, angel." He hugged her tightly to him, continuing his thrusting, both their bodies vibrating with their mutual pleasure. "Yes."
They both shuddered with the aftershocks as oversensitive flesh rubbed against oversensitive flesh until finally, he went completely still against her. Of their own volition, her ankles unlocked, and her legs dropped down so that she was held up and pinned against the wall by his body's intimate connection with hers only.
"We need a bed."
"The dishes…" A dumb thing to remember after such incredible pleasure. "Can wait."
Placing a hand under each armpit, he lifted her and stepped backward. Then he slowly lowered her to a standing position.
"How do you have the energy to do that?" She was in good physical shape, but after what they'd just shared, it was all she could do to lean against the wall and not fall on her fanny.
"I'll let you walk to bed." He said it like a concession, and she was unconvinced it had a thing to do with him not being able to lift her.
&
nbsp; She smiled, though. He was such a wonderful man. He didn't want her to feel like a weakling. "Thank you."
He insisted on showering before sleep, and this time he let her wash him, too. He about deafened her with his response to soap lather on his nether regions. Afterward, he carried her to bed, and she teased him about being a caveman.
He made love to her with her hair wrapped around his fist Neanderthal fashion. He was careful not to pull it, but she experienced an extra level of excitement at his blatant male possessiveness, even if it was a joke.
He was still caressing her when she fell asleep, exhausted from a marathon of lovemaking she had no idea any man could sustain. Even him.
Colton woke up in the middle of the night with his wife nuzzled into his side and felt as though he'd made it to paradise. No longer taunted by dreams, but satisfied beyond belief by reality, his face split in an uncharacteristic grin in the darkness.
She was his now.
He was sure of it.
They'd made love over and over again the night before until he'd finally tired the little thing out.
She'd fallen asleep as her body convulsed in something like her tenth orgasm. Hell, it could have been more.
Not that it mattered. The only thing he cared about was whether or not she believed she could trust him.
It would help when she woke up and he was still there. Not like six weeks ago or even the day before when he'd left her bed to make her dinner. He'd watched her waken, thinking she would open her eyes and look at him, only to see her hand go questing and come up empty.
Then her face had contorted, and he knew she was remembering, so he'd rushed over to find that questing hand and let her know he would always be at the other end of it from now on. He was determined to be next to her when she woke up this morning, but he had a couple of things to do first.
She was sleeping so soundly and had been so exhausted when she had fallen asleep, he figured he had at least a few hours before she woke up.
This time when she awoke, the only thing Fayre could smell was the masculine, earthy scent of the man beside her. Her hand had not even moved an inch before it encountered warm male flesh. Opening her eyes, she smiled like she had not smiled in weeks.
He was awake already, watching her, his own lips curved in a grin. "Hi."
"Good morning, Colt."
"You slept a long time. It's no longer morning."
The lack of direct sunlight in the room gave a deceptive impression that it could be early morning, but one quick peek at the alarm clock proved him right. "It's almost one o'clock!"
"Yes."
She bit her bottom lip. "I guess you woke up a long time ago?"
He reached out and brushed his finger along her lip and then tucked her hair back behind her ear. "You could say that."
"But you stayed with me."
"I didn't want you to wake up alone."
"Which is sweet, if a bit ridiculous. He wouldn't let us wake you up either."
At the sound of a feminine voice coming from the doorway, Fayre craned her neck to see who was talking.
"Hello, Fayre. I'm Moonbeam."
Her name fit her extremely well. The woman standing on the other side of the room had hair the color of a moonbeam. Her tiny body and pixieish face also seemed more ethereal than human, and Fayre could completely understand why Colton described her as a flower child.
Her clothes weren't tie-dyed, but the flowy silk top and matching pants had been batiked with vibrant shades.
Fayre grabbed the sheet and pulled it to her chin. "Nice to meet you."
Colton sat up, apparently totally unconcerned about his wide expanse of naked chest and stomach. Of course, the woman was his mother.
"Moonbeam, I asked you to wait until I brought Fayre out to meet you."
The older woman put one hand on her hip, looking an awful lot like a mother despite her startling appearance. "You didn't ask, you told. Which is impolite as I'm your mother. Your brothers are eager to meet your wife, too … or should I say fiancée? This whole getting married twice idea is lovely, but a little confusing."
Fayre stared up at Colton, feeling very much as if she'd been hit by a truck. "Your brothers are here, too? You told them about our wedding?"
What must they think? Colton had not once accused her of being a gold digger who had taken advantage of his inebriated state, but his family wouldn't be as trusting. They didn't know her, and she'd had too much experience with being the recipient of negative assumptions to believe now would be any different.
"How did they get here so fast?"
"Yes. Yes and they flew on Rand's private jet. I wouldn't mind having one of those."
"But how…"
"Colton called everyone in the middle of the night last night to tell us the news and ask us to come," Moonbeam answered for her son.
"Is she awake?" This time it was a masculine voice.
Fayre dove under the covers. "Tell him to go away." Her hair was a disaster, and she was naked.
"She's awake, but I don't think she's coming out until you and Moonbeam leave."
Fayre nodded under the covers in agreement.
The man chuckled, and then another feminine voice intruded. "I want to meet her, too."
"Is that Fayre?" yet another woman asked.
"Well, if it's a party, why wasn't I invited?" The voice sounded so much like Colt that if he hadn't been right next to her, she would have wondered if it was him.
Was it Carter or Rand? She remembered their names, but Colt had never said anything about one of them sounding just like him. Maybe the men didn't notice. She bet her sister-in-law did.
"It's not a party." Colton was laughing, so the words came out choked.
Fayre kicked him under the blanket. He said a not very nice word.
"Come along. I'll see about making lunch." Moonbeam's voice left no room for opposition.
"I want more than salad," Colton warned.
"I'll help her." The offer came from one of Colton's brothers, not the other women.
It was silent for several seconds before Colton tugged at the sheet and light blanket she'd burrowed under. "They're gone. You can come out."
She dropped the blankets and sucked in a big breath of air, glaring at her husband the whole time. "If your whole family is here, what are you doing in bed with me?"
"I didn't want you to wake up alone."
"That's nice, but don't you think bringing your mom, brothers and sisters-in-law in on it was overdoing it a tad?"
His smile was all rascal. "I didn't put them in bed with us, did I?"
"They probably think I'm some bimbo who tricked you into marriage when you were drunk."
"Why would they think that?"
"You were drunk when we got married."
"So? Moonbeam thinks getting drunk that night was the smartest thing I've ever done and leaving without talking to you was the dumbest."
"You told her all of it?" Fayre threw the covers back over her head. "She's going to hate me."
Instead of pulling the covers off of her, Colton tunneled under them. "She's going to love you."
"She'll think I got pregnant to trap you into marriage."
Colton kissed her, and Fayre forgot everything but the sensation of having him so close.
When he lifted his head, the blankets slid down to leave them both exposed. "Fayre, my family is happy for us. Okay?"
"How can they be? You married a showgirl! I remember what you told me about your brothers. They're both rich. They attend charity balls and drive sports cars that cost more than some people's houses. Rand is married to a woman who is a descendant of the founding family in their hometown. She owns this island. The only thing I own of any value is my car. Don't you see the difference?"
Colton's eyes were warm and incredibly tender. "All I see is a woman I would give my life for."
Tears filled her eyes, and she punched his shoulder. "Don't say things like that."
"Why not? It's
true. I don't care about money or who your grandparents were. I only care that when I'm with you, I don't feel like the secret bastard son of Hoyt Sloane. I feel like a man worthy of an amazing woman's love and courage."
She bit her lip, trying to stop its trembling, but nothing could stop the tears spilling over from her eyes. "I d-do l-love you."
His mouth came down again, and he kissed away the tremble and the tears.
Then he slid off of her and onto the floor beside the bed.
Leaning over, he grabbed something off the nightstand and then faced her. "I don't remember asking you to marry me, and I want that memory to share with our children."
She sat up and clutched the sheet in her hands, not bothering to cover her body. It belonged to him, and his family had closed the door when they left.
It was just her and Colton.
"You got down on your knees in the middle of the restaurant."
He smiled. "I like this better." And he was looking at her, all of her, but not with lust, with awe.
Frissons of joy went all through her.
He took her left hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. "I love you, Fayre, will you marry me?"
She was too choked up to reply, but she nodded until it felt like her head would pop off.
Then she felt a ring sliding onto her finger, and she looked down. A big square-cut emerald glittered up at her.
"We'll both wear rings after the ceremony at the Mexican church." He said it like a vow.
She swallowed.
"I love you, Colt. I don't understand how I could love you so much so fast, but I do."
"I know, Fayre. I feel the same way. I fell in love with you on sight six weeks ago, and I did it again yesterday. Please don't ever make me live without you."
She shook her head until he stopped the movement with another kiss.
Far from thinking the worst of her, Colton's family embraced Fayre from the moment she made her first nervous entry into the kitchen. His brother Carter had made lunch as her new sister-in-law Daisy had been quick to point out. She was obviously totally besotted, and Fayre thought that was sweet. Rand and Phoebe were too busy canoodling in a chair by the table for them to be of any help at all with the meal, but no one else seemed to mind.