“What was your plan then? I’m on your lap Ames, feeling something I can’t have.” Talk about sexual frustration.
He doesn’t answer but kisses my neck, nibbling on the tender skin and licking a path up to my ear. While his mouth is busy, he turns the chair until we’re mostly facing away from the door and his hand slides up under my dress.
“Ames…”
“Shhh, Lani, I’m busy.” His arm closest to the door wraps around me, the jacket he pulled on when we got in here hiding me from view so his hand can cup my breast. His other hand is now sliding up my thigh. “Open your legs for me.” I bite my lip and tip my knees open. His hand slides up, slipping inside my panties and stroking me. “Fuck, Lani, you’re wet. I wish I could do more than this.”
“Me too,” I whisper, rubbing my ass into his hardened length.
“Slide forward a little bit and lean back into me, just like you’re lying your head back on my shoulder while we watch TV.” I do as I’m told, reaching down to rearrange my skirt. “Good girl. You remember, I told you I was going to make you pay. I’m going to make you come, Lani, and you don’t get to make a sound.” His fingers are stroking and circling and I’m trembling with the effort it’s taking to not move against him. I exhale shakily.
“You feel so good. Do you like this?” I nod, afraid to speak. He thrusts a finger inside, rubbing me with the heel of his hand. My back arches. “Be good, Lani, or I’ll have to stop.”
“Don’t,” I whisper over my shoulder. I subtly roll my hips, rocking against him and he growls in my ear, thrusting farther inside of me, his hand cupping me. I rock against him again and he pinches my nipple, causing a small moan to escape my lips. He pulls his hand away completely and bites at my shoulder. His absence leaves an ache.
“I said no sound. Be. Good.” He emphasizes his words with bites. I’m writhing against him, all caution forgotten.
“Ames. Please.” He brings his fingers back up to that sensitive nub of nerves, all teasing gone. His long fingers are circling and stroking, playing me like an instrument. I look back at him and his face looks as if he’s engrossed in the television show. I have to be flushed and I’m struggling to stay still and quiet. “Oooooh, shit Ames!” I whisper shakily.
“Quiet. I know. I’ve got you. Just come.” He’s driving me higher, and my body is shaking. My muscles tighten, everything rocketing towards the brink, and he has the foresight to take his hand from my breast and bring it over my mouth. Fucking taking care of me, even in this. I bite him and shatter in his arms, moaning against his hand. He kisses the side of my face and strokes his fingers at my center. When I’m able, I turn and kiss him hard. I don’t care if anyone walks in.
I’m still shaky, on an orgasm high. “I wish I could make you feel as good as I feel right now.” He slides his hand out from under my dress, watching me as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, one at a time, sucking my arousal off. He groans in the back of his throat. Fuck, that’s hot.
“You taste good. And I’m as close as I can possibly get right now, Darlin'. When I’m alone tonight, I’ll get off on the way you look when you come.”
“Mmmm. Maybe I’ll think about you doing that when I’m on my own.” I wink at him, feeling emboldened.
“Naughty. I like you like this.” He shifts, adjusting himself under me.
“Will you walk me out, or should I go on my own?”
“I’ll walk you out, but you should stay right here a little while longer.”
“Is there something you need?”
“There’s a lot I need,” he wiggles his eyebrows at me suggestively, “but for now I want to avoid going to the quarterdeck sporting wood.” I giggle and settle back into his arms until he’s ready to walk me to the car. I am one lucky wifey.
29
Ames
Everything, literally everything is better with Nalani. Dinner on a duty day, grocery shopping, cooking meals, folding laundry, she improves every part of my life. As hot as it was getting her off on the ship, she got me back good. She has this unexpected level of confidence when we’re having sexy times. It’s such a turn on. I got back from work, skipping my workout, because I wanted to get home to her, and she was stretched out on our bed, completely naked. She is unbelievably gorgeous all the time, but there was something about seeing her like that, slender limbs, dusky nipples, all that perfect olive skin laid bare, waiting for me. Teleporting wouldn’t have gotten me to her faster. But she wouldn’t let me touch her. She was teasing and controlling. She slowly undressed me and told me saucily that she was the only one that got to touch this time. She kissed and caressed and stroked and licked, all the while letting me watch her, but I had to keep my hands to myself. It was the hottest fucking thing ever. She had me on the edge even before she kneeled in front of me and took me in her mouth. Fuck, the things she can do with her mouth. I’ll never get enough of her. I couldn’t leave her out though. I had her begging by the time we went to bed. More than once.
Today is Thanksgiving and it feels like a big deal. Our first holiday together. Daniel and Connie had already made plans with some of his extended family and Nalani doesn’t want to push her dad, especially not with family around. I don’t mind because we’re going to spend the holiday at the Hammonds’ with the whole gang. Even Fern and Deacon, back from their honeymoon, will be there.
Everybody is bringing at least one dish that means Thanksgiving for them. Norah said they always had glazed ham to go with their turkey growing up in Colorado. She’s bringing that and taro rolls now that she’s perfected her recipe. Ka‘eo is providing the pa’i’ai and spam musubi appetizers. Issa is originally from Georgia and she’s making peach cobbler for dessert (she said because she likes it, not because it’s Thanksgiving) along with the turkey. Nate said it’s not Thanksgiving in Minnesota unless you have green bean casserole. He’s on that. I’m making Mama’s cornbread dressing and Nalani is making Connie’s candied sweet potato casserole recipe with purple yams. Deacon and Fern are bringing macaroni and cheese, Jameson is making mashed potatoes and gravy, and apparently Everett Dawes bakes pies. For a guy who has a hair trigger temper, especially about his appearance, he sure seems to lean into subverting expectations.
Nalani has some secret box she’s been working on that she won’t let me see. I’ve been giving her a hard time about it, jokingly. I like that she has something up her sleeve. Our apartment smells like sage and bacon, warm cornbread, and fresh rosemary. I’m really looking forward to spending this holiday with our friends.
“Maka, are we supposed to dress nice or lazy?” She has an old apron on and her hair is up in a messy knot. I can’t help imagining her in nothing but the apron. I’m going to get myself into trouble if I’m not careful.
“Good question. Let me ask.”
Me: Dress code?
Issa: Comfy. Even pj’s are permissible
Issa: strike that
Issa: you probably sleep in your underwear
Issa: nobody but Nalani should be seeing that
Me: Roger
Me: I won’t let it break my heart that you feel that way
Me: But only because my Lani makes up for it
Issa: You’re incorrigible
Issa: Also, bring your guitar
“Issa says comfy clothes, even pj’s, although for some reason she doesn’t want me to come in only my underwear.”
“Good, I agree with her.”
“You don’t want me in nothing but my boxers?” I press her into the kitchen counter from behind, my hands smoothing over the curves of her ass.
“Oh, I definitely want that. Preferably nothing at all. But only for me.” She turns around, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine.”
“Yours, huh?” She blushes but doesn’t back down. “I love it. Be as possessive as you want. I told you before, I’m yours.” I part her lips with my tongue. “Are you mine, Lani?” She kisses me back, matching my intensity. “You are, you know. A
ll. Mine.” My lips are possessive, hungry. We have some time before the food finishes, and I feel like staking my claim. I take my wife to bed.
We get to the Hammonds’ right on time. I’ve never been accused of inefficiency. The kitchen island is covered in food, and everything smells incredible. Issa pulls Nalani to the stove, asking her to taste the gravy for her and their son, Thomas, tackles me. I drop to the ground, letting him crawl over me with his favorite dump truck.
“Uncle! Uncle! I dwiving on you!” His little giggle kills me. The Hammond kids are the cutest. Millie, their youngest daughter at 18 months, toddles over and throws her body over my face. I bellow with laughter and Thomas throws himself over my stomach. “Doggie pile, Uncle!” Jameson joins in while Dawes watches us with a smirk. We roll around on the floor, laughing and playing until Issa calls them over to wash their hands. Jameson grabs Thomas while Millie puts her hands up to me, flailing until I pick her up.
“Queen Millie cannot deign to walk to the sink, Issa. I must carry her.” Issa rolls her eyes, but she can’t help but smile when Millie crows “ka-ween” in her sweet little voice. I help Millie wash her hands and put her in the highchair on the lanai.
Nalani ducks under my arms, wrapping hers around me and whispers into my ear, “Please, no more carrying babies. I don’t think sneaking away is plausible and I cannot spend all of today ridiculously turned on.” I grin at her, sneaking a kiss. “Promise me, Ames! This is serious.”
“I can’t promise that, Darlin'. Babies love me. And we can always sneak away. Actually, we don’t even have to sneak. I’d happily announce to anyone and everyone that I’m going to ravish my wife. I have no shame when it comes to how much I want you.” She pinches me and scoots away before I can retaliate.
Our Thanksgiving meal is next level delicious. Everyone eats until we’re stuffed, then we sit and talk until we’ve digested enough to have room for dessert and coffee. We fully intend to continue to sit long enough to eat round two for dinner as well. That’s not hard to do with all the good conversations going on around us. Instead of separating, men and women, everyone stays as they were. K pulls Norah’s feet into his lap, rubbing them while he chats with Deacon about their trip. Fern is curled up in her husband’s lap, fingers in his hair.
“The wedding was so nice! Just us and our families in the Smoky Mountains,” Fern tells us.
“What made you choose Tennessee?” Nalani asks, snuggling in close to me.
Deacon answers. “Everyone had to travel, so it felt fair. And this was the first time our families met. We made it like a group vacation.”
“It was so fun!” Fern giggles. “We had wild game nights, drank cocoa by the fire every night, and after the wedding they all went back home and we spent a week in a cute little mountain cabin, just the two of us.” Deacon leans in, whispering something in her ear and Fern blushes a deep pink. Newlyweds, man.
“We didn’t expect to come back home and be 1 of 3 newly married couples!”
Issa snorts. “Bunch of impatient weirdos.” We all laugh. “So who will be next?”
“My money is on Jameson,” I crack. “He has that Texas charm. Plus, Dawes is too prickly.” They both flip me off.
After we devour Dawes’ delicious pies and the men have finished washing the dishes, Issa calls me over.
“Did you bring your guitar?”
“You told me to, Issa! I could never disappoint you.” I hold her hand over my heart.
“Stop trying to charm me, Ames, you’re a married man!” She slaps at me playfully. “I have a surprise, but now that I’m going to spring it on you, I’m worried. If I overstepped, do that thing you do and smooth things over, please? I don’t want Nalani to be uncomfortable.”
“Sure, whatever you need.”
“Well, call your lady over.”
“Darlin'!” Nalani’s head pops up and K grins at me. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to know what that’s about or not, but it’s better than the unreadable stares he was giving me last time we were all together. “Issa wants us in here.”
“Ooooooone second, Maka.” K grins wider, but Nalani doesn’t see him because she’s concentrating on a paper spread out on the table, crayon in hand. “Thomas and I are finishing a masterpiece over here.” A minute later she walks in, grabbing my hand automatically. Every time she does something like that, something that makes this feel real and comfortable, I feel ten feet tall.
“Nalani, I heard Ames found you again because you were playing piano at The Blue Note Hawai‘i. And he first fell for you hearing you sing. We got a tiny taste at the wedding, but it wasn’t the full experience. You’re allowed to say no, I won’t be offended in the slightest, but I borrowed this swanky electric piano and forced Ames to bring his guitar. Would you please, please, pretty please play for us? And maybe sing? PLEASE?” Her over the top begging has Nalani giggling. Hearing what Issa asked, the others come inside and sit in the living room.
“I don’t mind playing or singing. I do this for money, you know. But I hope you’re aware that this isn’t something we prepared for. It’s not like we’ve been practicing at home, putting together a setlist for you guys. So, you know, just extend us a little grace.” She’s talking while setting up the keyboard, in professional mode. I love watching her like this. She’s poised and graceful. She plugs it in and sits down, facing everyone. She plays a little trill and then turns to me. “I don’t know what songs we might both know. I can play some, if you think of anything, throw it out there.”
“I’ll jump in if I know it. We’d all rather hear you anyway.”
She shakes her head but starts playing. It’s the first song I heard her singing when I got home that day. I forget there are other people here. I could listen to her playing and singing for the rest of my life. Fingers crossed. Hazel, the Hammonds' 7-year-old daughter, comes over and sits on the floor in front of the piano, completely entranced by Nalani. She sings a line about the sweetest thing you’ll see, and my chest feels tight. She’s certainly that for me.
The final chords ring out and everyone applauds, but Nalani doesn’t pause. She rolls into a more upbeat instrumental piece. She does “You’ve Got a Friend” and I join in. Her dropped down interpretation of Kacey Musgraves’ “Slow Burn” gives me chills. Same with “Mother.” That one gets me teary eyed. No one else knows about her mom’s cancer or the test results we’re waiting on, but I know that’s why she picked that song. She takes random requests and plays things we’ve never heard before over the next hour. We end with “To Love” and it feels as magical as it did the first time. I stand behind her, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders, goosebumps on my skin as our voices join together. Issa and Fern have tears in their eyes. Hazel jumps up and down, clapping enthusiastically.
“Auntie! I love to hear you sing! Can you teach me to play and sing like you?”
“If it’s okay with your parents, I’d be happy to. You know, I started playing when I was younger than Thomas.” Hazel looks fit to burst and Issa actually does, the tears that had been pooling during the song running down her cheeks.
Nate swoops in, comforting his wife and moving the piano out of the way and I suddenly remember the secret box. “Lani, what was in the box you brought?”
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Everyone is standing close by; she doesn’t have to do anything to address all of us at once. “Making holiday cocktails is something I’ve been doing at family gatherings the last few years. Now that I’m part of a group that mostly doesn’t imbibe, I thought I’d try my hand at some virgin cocktails!” She starts unpacking her ingredients. “I’ve been secretly testing them on my parents to keep it a surprise. I can make a hot buttered rum, without the rum of course, and I also brought stuff for my take on a spiced chai old fashioned. I don’t see why only drinkers should get to enjoy special drinks!” She shrugs as if she didn’t do something incredibly thoughtful for all of us. K scoops her up in his huge arms, thanking her enough for everyone. He’s the only one of our grou
p that chooses not to drink because he liked it too much and didn’t want it to become a problem.
“Thanks, little Cuz!”
Nalani gets to work, making everyone’s drinks. She even brought pretty garnishes to add, like whole dried star anise and an orange to make little twirly things, whatever those are called. If the alcoholic version is half as delicious as this virgin spiced chai old fashioned, I can understand why my mom had problems cutting herself off. Although that was probably more numbing herself to her problems than the taste, but what do I know? I pull my wife away from the drinks for a moment, pouring all of my feelings into a kiss. I’d prefer to let it go a while, but apparently, she was serious about making everyone else drinks. She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses the tip of my nose, squeezing my hand before going back to work. I’ve been dismissed.
I take my drink and go out on the lanai to get some fresh air. K stands next to me, leaning on the railing with his own drink. “You guys good? You look like you’re good.”
“Yeah man,” I smile, “we’re awesome. Really awesome.”
“I’m glad, Braddah. Nalani is good people, and you’re like family.”
I tip my chin at him, not needing to say more. That means a lot to me, and his expression says he knows.
“Hey, sorry about giving Nalani a hard time before. It wasn’t about you, but I was worried.”
“When did you give her a hard time?”
“I guess it didn’t bother her too much if she didn’t mention it. That’s good. I talked to her that first night we got together, the four of us. She’s not an impulsive person and I was concerned because this was all really fast. I thought maybe it was because of Auntie Connie. I shouldn’t have pushed. It’s obvious this is the real thing.”
“No worries man. I, uh, didn’t know you knew about Connie.”
Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2) Page 15