Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2)

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Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2) Page 13

by Drea Braddock


  Norah and Ka‘eo aren’t concerned with formal clothes or matching outfits. There’s no pressure. I shave and select a navy, fitted aloha shirt with a wave pattern and charcoal submersibles. Nalani looks like a goddess in an emerald-green jumpsuit, her dark brown waves loose over her shoulders. The color and cut of the top remind me of her sexy swimsuit. I help her do the clasp on her necklace and press a kiss to her neck. I don’t know if we have enough time for a good talk, but I feel like I have to try to clear the air in some way. Giving her space hasn’t worked, it’s time to go back to how I normally deal with things: head on.

  “Lani, are you mad at me? Things have felt really weird, and I want to fix it, but I don’t really know how.”

  She sighs. “I don’t know that we have time to get into this right now, Ames. It’s about time to leave, and I don’t want to make the wedding harder.”

  “It’s that big?” Now I’m really worried. “Is there any portion of it that I can help clear up at all? I hate feeling like this.” I keep my hands on her shoulders. It’s the most contact I’ve had in days.

  She closes her eyes, and I can almost hear her brain looping on her. “The kiss at the pier. That first day.”

  “All the way back then? What about it?”

  “It was so hot, Ames. I wanted to rip your clothes off right there at the car. But then you asked me if I thought it looked right, like if people would buy it was a newlywed kiss.”

  “Shit. I was messing around, joking because I knew the guys were probably watching us. It made me laugh thinking about how obvious it must have been that we didn’t want to stop with a goodbye kiss. I wanted you so much it physically hurt! That’s been bothering you all this time?”

  “Yes,” her voice is small.

  I wrap my arms around her, talking down into her soft hair. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? I don’t want my jokes to hurt you.”

  “I was confused and emotional. I didn’t know how to transition from the sexy hotel bubble to regular married life and then, after that comment, I worried that I couldn’t tell what was real and what was for show.”

  “Fuck, Lani. I’m so sorry.” I kiss the top of her head, willing my heart to stop racing now that I know what was bothering her.

  She tips her head up to look at me. “So?” I must look as confused as I feel because she shakes her head in annoyance. “What is real and what’s for show, Ames? You told me how important appearances are to you, especially around work. I’m not good at pretending. It doesn’t matter how attracted I am to you, I can’t share my whole life, my house, and my body with you only for appearance’s sake.”

  “None of it, Lani! None of it was for show! None of it is for show!” I rake my hand through my hair, pacing away from her. "I haven’t concerned myself for one solitary second with other people’s perceptions of us, I was just going off of how I feel when I’m with you.” She exhales shakily. “You really worried I was pretending?” I can’t keep the hurt out of my voice.

  “Sort of, yes. I didn’t know for sure, and the worry had me frozen. The longer I worried the more I convinced myself you didn’t really want me at all.” She’s doing that thing where she twists her fingers together. I hate that I made her feel like this.

  “I want you so much I can’t think straight!” I kiss her, putting all of my pent-up longing into it. “That makes me feel awful. Thank you for telling me though. We should finish talking about this when we get back tonight.” I kiss her, letting it go on much longer than I should because I’ve missed it so much. I’ve missed her. Fuck, her tongue in my mouth is like coming home. “Darlin', it hurts that you have a hard time believing that I could like you as much as I do. I wish I could help you to see yourself the way I see you.” She squeezes me and I hold on tight, willing her to believe me. Please, let me fix this.

  I hold her hand on the drive out. I don’t want to let her go. The small stretch of beach is empty except for our little party. The ceremony reminds me of ours: short, simple, but special. Ka‘eo's photographer friend, Ben, captures everything. The spot is beautiful, with the bright turquoise waves in front of them. I have my guitar and Nalani and I sing the “Hawaiian Wedding Song.” I spend the ceremony looking at my wife, hoping she’s remembering our wedding too. Nate pronounces them husband and wife and they both step forward, hands on each other’s faces, kissing tenderly. My best friends are married! We all cheer for Mr. and Mrs. Maheloha, Ben takes a few more photos, then we drive back to the Hammonds’ house.

  The wedding reception is like our usual Friday night dinners, kicked up a notch. The feeling is festive and there’s lots of hugging and happy tears. Issa starts the rice cooker, then latches on to Nalani, pulling her out onto the lanai with Norah. It’s still too early to start the coals, so the guys follow them out. Plus, K doesn’t want to be away from his bride. He lifts her out of her chair, putting himself in her place and pulling her into his lap. I do the same with Nalani. Anything to be closer to her, to try to make the physical improve the emotional. Norah curls into K, but Nalani stays upright. It feels awkward and my stomach aches thinking of all of the unease that we let build up all week. I gently lean her back against my chest, twining our fingers as I hold her close with our arms over her middle.

  “You look gorgeous today,” I whisper in her ear, kissing it lightly. She sighs, the tightness of her posture melting into me until we’re pressed close. I run my nose down the line of her neck, kissing where I see goosebumps rising. She adjusts herself, getting more comfortable and it feels like a substantial prize. This is what I’ve been missing. I’m caressing her arm with my fingertips, eyes closed, soaking in her smell and warmth and I open my eyes to catch Ka‘eo watching us closely. I grin, but he stays serious. I can’t be concerned with K, I’m focused on Nalani right now.

  The women are talking about the ceremony, Nalani sharing bits about our wedding and Issa chiming in with her own stories. I’m able to fully focus on expressing how much I care about my wife through my touch. There’s no end goal in mind, other than hoping she’ll feel more connected to me, that she won’t have to ask whether it’s real. Nate presses a kiss to Issa’s cheek and gets up to start the coals. I start to move, but he waves me off, telling me to stay put. That’s fine by me. I hold Nalani for another 20 minutes, caressing her lightly, pressing small kisses to her exposed skin, and playing with her hair. I can’t get enough of touching her. It feels like it will never be enough, and I can’t let us slide back to where we were before.

  26

  Nalani

  Nate and Issa have provided a feast. There’s huli-huli and char-siu chicken, rice, grilled vegetables, and mac salad. They’re such a funny, lively group and it’s been surprisingly easy to fit in. After dinner, Issa makes coffee and Norah brings out her cupcakes. Now I get why everyone kept talking about her baking — they were little paper-wrapped bites of heaven. Nate and Ames go inside to grab mugs and the ladies lean in conspiratorially.

  “I feel like I’ve joined an exclusive club! I didn’t even know I wanted to be in, but now that I am, I want all the secrets!” Norah laughs.

  “What secrets do we have?” Issa asks.

  “Hmmm, let’s go straight to the nitty gritty! How about, veteran to newlywed: how is married sex different?”

  “Do you mean married in general? Or are you asking me about old people married sex specifically?”

  Norah snorts. “I’ll take anything I can get!”

  “I’m sure Nalani can back me up here to some degree,” Issa starts, nodding in my direction, “but married sex is better because of that deeper connection. There’s something special about that commitment, knowing that your bodies belong solely to each other. And the years only improve that. You’ll know his body as well as your own. All the tricks and moves that you use have been developed specifically for each other. It’s awesome.” God, that sounds amazing. And I feel like a fraud sitting her, letting her act like we’re on the same level.

  “Well, that sounds like
a dream come true! Since you brought it up, how does ‘old people married sex’ differ? And you know I object to that; you and Nate are only a few years older than we are.”

  “I can’t speak for everyone, of course, but I’d say it’s less exciting. At least in terms of what other people would think of as exciting. It’s not less for us. But we have kids running around and neighbors and busy schedules. Our bed is freaking comfortable and private. No one is stripping naked in the living room or having sex on the kitchen countertops.”

  Norah’s lips are twisted into a smirk. No doubt she and Ka‘eo have had adventurous sex all over the place. Issa is laughing and I mutter, under my breath, “That’s not happening in our house either.” Except there’s silence, in the absence of Issa’s boisterous laugh, and everyone heard me. Everyone. Including Nate and Ames, who have just stepped out onto the lanai with the coffee mugs. I can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, then, as if they’re attached by wires like a group of marionettes, they all swivel to look at my husband. Ames’ eyes widen the smallest amount before he forces out a laugh that sounds false to my ears.

  “No need to be embarrassed, Lani. She takes the cleanliness of our food prep areas very seriously. Cross contamination is no joke in the Cabot household.” There’s such caring in his expression it pains me.

  Norah chimes in,“That actually makes me more comfortable thinking about eating at your place, Nalani! I realize disinfecting is a thing, but I don’t want to eat food with the thought that someone’s ass has been on the countertop where everything was made. I’m with you, girl.”

  My smile feels shaky, but I’m sure no one, outside of Ames, will notice. I try to keep up with the conversation, but my heart isn’t in it and my mind keeps wandering. I’m so embarrassed. But I’m also grateful for how quickly Ames smoothed things over. It was incredibly considerate. I think about the night and how he treated me until we say our goodbyes and drive back home.

  By the time our front door closes behind us, I’ve officially reached my breaking point. The sexual frustration is at such a level that, instead of freezing and disappearing inside of my head, I’m going to explode. I’m a ticking time bomb. The wedding was beautiful and everything with Ames felt like the bubble again. We were so in tune. He touched me, held me, kissed me, and made me feel like I was the only one he saw. He saved me from looking foolish in front of his friends, being so careful with my fragile feelings. I have been so stupid. So cowardly. So weak.

  I stride purposefully to the bedroom portion of the open, studio apartment. I’m standing at the end of the bed, breaths puffing out in angry bursts like I’ve been running. Ames walks towards me, hands outstretched like he’s trying to calm a cornered animal. I feel like a cornered animal.

  “Lani? What’s wrong? Did I cross a line? Touch you too much? I hope I wasn’t disrespectful; I’ve missed being close to you so much…” he looks worried and that sets me off even more. Still, even in the face of me being irrational and crazy, he’s concerned about me first. I’m pacing, furious with myself, but not able to form a coherent thought. All I know, for sure, is that anything brought up by my anxiety cannot be trusted. Jerk brain doesn’t ever want the best for me. But it seems like Ames does. The only thing that’s left is how much I want him.

  I stop pacing and stare at him across the width of the bed. He is standing there, concern etched across his deep blue eyes, his chiseled jaw set. His shirt is hugging the lines of his chest and he’s so sexy it pisses me off more. What kind of idiot falls asleep every night next to that, too scared to try for anything more? I growl and launch myself at him.

  I slam into his body, wrapping my legs around his waist, kissing him. He stands there for a moment, dumbfounded, before he’s gripping my ass, kissing me hungrily. There’s no tenderness or reserve. We’re all fire with dancing tongues and squeezing hands. He tastes good and I’m moaning, my anger from before burned out and replaced with pure lust. He kisses and licks down my neck, stopping below my collarbone. He brings his face back up to mine, eyes darkened with desire.

  “Lani love? Can I—”

  I interrupt him. “Don’t be a fucking gentleman right now, Ames! DO YOU WANT ME?”

  “Fuck yes. Always. Forever.”

  “Then shut up and get naked.”

  He’s still supporting my weight with his strong arms, and I hurriedly start unbuttoning his shirt. He backs me into the wall, bringing a hand around to push my jumpsuit down. We both come to the conclusion that it’s not enough at the same time. He turns around, dropping me on the bed. He throws off his shirt and leans over, swiftly pulling my jumpsuit down and off. I sit up, making quick work of his shorts and boxers.

  Ames Cabot naked is even better than I remembered. Every muscle is perfection. Every line begging to be traced with my fingers. The golden trail of hair leading to his perfect, erect cock makes my mouth literally water.

  Holy. Shit. I can’t believe all of this is mine.

  He pulls me to standing, kissing me roughly as he removes my bra. He kisses his way down my body, teasing my nipples and making me quiver.

  “Darlin'?” I open my eyes, looking down at him. “I want to take my time. I want to taste every inch of you.” I bite my lip, my entire body burning from the inside out. “But I can’t. I fucking can’t, Lani. I need you too much.” I nod shakily, shoving down my panties and kicking them aside. He lays me back, pausing to rake his eyes over me. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He brings his body over mine, kissing me deeply and with one thrust we’re joined.

  I moan, muttering “finally” into his mouth. He laughs. He’s propping himself up with one arm, his other hand stroking every bit of my skin he can reach. My fingers are roaming his back, his neck, up into his hair, down to his ass. I feel like I can’t be close enough to him. I’m lifting my hips and he’s rocking into me, our rhythm picking up. He’s whispering that I feel good, that we’re made for each other, that I’m everything he’s ever wanted, and my brain can’t decide if I want to cry from his words or scream with pleasure. I toss my head back, “OH! Harder, Maka. Deeper.” Ames grins at the moniker, thrusting deeper and kissing my exposed neck. He feels amazing. This is all better than my dreams about him during the forced dry spell.

  “I’m close, Darlin'.” I am too and knowing he’s with me is all I need to take me to the brink. He brings his mouth to mine, tongue plunging in tandem with his cock, and I explode, calling his name. He rocks forward one more time and crashes with me. We’re a panting sweaty heap but he doesn’t pull away. He stays there, kissing me passionately and caressing my skin.

  He sighs, taut muscles relaxing as he rolls over me, tucking me against his side.

  “You called me Maka,” he beams at me. “It’s stupid how much I liked it, even though I don’t know what it means.”

  My cheeks pull up in an answering smile, big enough to make the small muscles ache, but I’m definitely not telling him what it means. That’s too much, even to admit to myself.

  “Sorry that wasn’t a longer, more tender experience. It felt like it had been forever. And God, I have wanted that so much and I didn’t think you did. I tried so hard to give you space.”

  I’m staring at him, mouth gaping open enough for a shark to swim in. “You didn’t think I wanted to have sex with you? At all?”

  “Well, no. I thought you needed space and time to get there. I didn’t want to be pushy. Fuck, I’ve fought hard not to push you. And, if I’m being honest, it felt like you weren’t as affectionate, since I moved in. You haven’t been as playful or flirty. I’d started to worry that you weren’t really attracted to me. Like maybe the time at the hotel was a fluke.”

  A crazy laugh bubbles up from deep inside of me. It’s the only possible reaction to that ridiculous statement.

  “Fuzakenna! I must be better at disguising my feelings than I thought. Basically, it’s been the exact opposite of all of that, Ames. It was too hard to be close but never get anywhere. I haven’t been as affectionate
because I’m always so turned on and you seemed fine with staying where we were. You weren’t trying for more, and I was so wrapped up in wondering if it was all for show, I got myself all knotted up.”

  “Really?” He seems so genuinely surprised I can’t do anything but laugh.

  “Have you seen yourself? Good Lord, you’re sexy!” I run my fingers down his chest, tracing that trail of hair. “Every single thing about you gets me. And you’re always walking around half naked, taking care of me, making me melt with your kisses, then immediately falling asleep. You’ve been slowly killing me!”

  “Well, if this is how you deal with stress, I am all for it.” He kisses me until I’m aching, wondering how long it will be until he’s ready for round two.

  “I hope you know I’ve felt the same way, Lani. It’s been torture sleeping next to you.” He runs his hand up and down my side, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone so much. I’ve wanted more since day one, but I didn’t want to scare you off.” I can’t quite believe what he’s saying. It feels too good to be true. But I’m not going to let that cause me to freeze up again.

  “I’m not scared, Ames. And I want more of this. As much as you can give me.”

  And he gives me more, late into the night.

  27

  Ames

  I did not see the weekend going the way it did, based on how things were Friday night. Even after we talked, I wasn’t sure how ready she’d be for anything physical. I was happy just to be able to touch her again. I in no way expected her to literally jump me but, hot damn am I glad she did! We’re back to the bubble vibe. Apart from the tension that builds every time I look at her. You’d think having sex would make the need less, but that hasn’t proved true. I want her even more now. All the time. Everything else feels a little easier too, now that I’m not expending energy worrying that she’s not attracted to me or that I’m making her unhappy. Focusing on making her happy is much more fun. Fuck, I want to focus on nothing else, ever.

 

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