by Noelle Adams
Forgetting about the possibility of wrinkling her wedding dress, Jessica collapsed into a chair in the Sunday School room and tried to suck down enough air to breathe.
“You okay?” Daniel asked, closing the door behind them and shutting out the rest of the wedding party.
They’d been left alone for a few minutes before the remainder of the pictures and reception.
“Yeah. It’s just all so surreal.” The world had finally unblurred, but now she was exhausted and strangely shaky. She was having trouble getting her mind to process what had just happened.
She’d gotten married. To Daniel. It had actually happened.
He walked over until he stood beside her, and his expression reflected concern. “Are you sure you wanted to—”
He broke off mid-sentence, evidently remembering he wasn’t supposed to keep asking her that.
She found the energy to almost smile. “Thanks for stopping yourself. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”
“Honestly, I feel pretty hot and overwhelmed myself.”
“Really?” He looked as composed and attractive as ever, although not as slick as he had earlier. “How did you feel after your first wedding?”
When his face closed off immediately, she knew she shouldn’t have asked. His marriage to Lila was still a sensitive subject—was still inviolate—and she knew better than to ask him to spill. Especially at a time like this.
She sighed and hunched her shoulders slightly, feeling more exhausted than ever.
“Not like this,” he said at last.
She glanced up and saw his expression had returned to normal. At least he’d answered.
“I was completely overwhelmed that day. I think everyone is on their wedding day. But I was…”
“You were thrilled,” she completed for him. She smiled at him, trying to show that she was perfectly fine with his being honest about it. She was perfectly fine. Trying to compete with Lila—in Daniel’s heart or as a pastor’s wife—would be a losing battle for Jessica, and she simply wasn’t going to do it. “She was thrilled too. Everyone could see that.”
“Yeah.”
Ridiculously, Jessica felt almost near tears at the thought of how happy both of them had been that day eight years ago. How young they’d been. How they’d expected a lifetime together.
Why shouldn’t they have expected it?
“It was a long time ago,” Daniel said at last. “We both know it’s not the same, but I’m happy about this too.” He gestured between them to indicate their own marriage. “It’s not the way it’s normally done, but that doesn’t mean it can’t work. I think it will be good.”
“Me too.” Her relief must have been evident in her tone, in her smile. She stood up and put a hand on Daniel’s arm, wanting to be close to him in any way she could.
He reached out and drew her into his arms.
She returned the hug immediately, instinctively, and they hugged for a long time.
She shook against him with emotion, although she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just the aftermath of the wedding anxiety.
His arms, his body, his breath was strength to her. Warmth. Comfort. She needed it.
There was one silly tear on her cheek when she pulled away, and she had no way to hide it.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I might scream if you keep asking me that.”
He wiped the trail of the tear away with his thumb, his eyes the kindest things she’d ever seen. He didn’t love her like Lila, but he did love her—in all the ways that were important, in all the ways she needed. She’d be a fool not to see that and appreciate it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you scream,” he said, his irrepressible humor emerging at last. “It might be worth giving it a try.”
***
Their reception was being held in the church fellowship hall. It wasn’t as fancy as another venue might be, but it was a lot more convenient for their guests. The hall wasn’t a gym—the kind found in a lot of contemporary churches—and it dressed up pretty nice. Since it was so close to Christmas, the florist had used clusters of poinsettias, garlands of pine and holly, and a few arrangements of red roses in the shape of Christmas trees.
Jessica was deeply relieved they’d decided against a sit-down meal, since she wasn’t sure she would have made it through such a long production. She wondered how women lasted through receptions that stretched late into the evening after the stress of a wedding.
She rushed the photographer through the pictures, since she’d been to far too many weddings where she’d had to wait bored at the reception for ages before the bride and groom finally made an appearance and she could go home. Then she put on her favorite part of her wedding ensemble—an adorable fake-fur shrug—and she and Daniel went to the fellowship hall to greet their guests.
She still felt the same jittery excitement she’d been feeling since they’d gotten engaged, intensified now that the wedding had actually happened, but she was also overwhelmed with the idea of so many people waiting to hug and congratulate her. She didn’t like being the center of attention, and constantly smiling was starting to hurt her face.
To give herself motivation, she kept telling herself that she and Daniel just needed to make the round of greetings. Then they could cut the cake.
Then she could get out of here.
“You look so beautiful,” Miss Ross, her second-grade teacher, said, giving her a hug.
“Thank you.” Each conversation was almost exactly the same. She wasn’t sure she looked beautiful anymore, since the waves in her hair had flattened and her makeup had mostly worn off, but people kept telling her so anyway.
“We weren’t sure you were ever going to get married.”
She’d heard the same sentiment so many times—this week, this month, and the last several years of her life—that she didn’t let it bother her anymore.
Willow Park was a small town in an area with traditional values. It didn’t matter that she had a good career and her independence. She would be incomplete in their eyes until she got married. As wrong as she believed that to be, she tried not to hold it against them.
Daniel put a hand on her back in a possessive gesture she really liked. So what if they weren’t blissfully in love? They were partners in this. They understood each other. And they could be happy.
“She was just waiting for the right man,” he said, amusement in his voice.
Jessica smiled up at him, probably looking rather fatuous. “That’s right. Who would have guessed it was the boy next door?”
“Isn’t there a song about that?” Miss Ross asked.
Jessica knew her musicals, and without thinking, she sang a few bars from the song Miss Ross was referring to from Meet Me in St. Louis.
She was no Judy Garland, but she was at least on key.
Then she realized everyone around her had stopped to listen, and Daniel was smiling in appreciative surprise.
She broke off. “Sorry. Is that the song you meant?”
There was a smattering of applause and laughter, and Daniel slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.
“You should sing more often,” he said.
She felt vaguely pleased by the reaction, but she wondered why she’d burst into song that way.
All her life, she’d made sure she stayed out of the spotlight. That wasn’t going to change now.
***
That evening, she took a long shower, shaving carefully and spending more time in the bathroom than she ever had in her life.
She and Daniel were spending the night in the house.
They’d gotten all her stuff moved in last week, and he’d been living here for the last three weeks. They’d agreed there was no reason to go to a hotel for their first night as man and wife.
They weren’t doing a honeymoon. Daniel had just started his job, and he couldn’t take time off during the Christmas season anyway—one of the high points of the church calendar. Plus, Jessic
a couldn’t help but think a honeymoon would be a waste of money.
Maybe later, they could take a vacation together, once they were comfortable with being married to each other. But right now it would awkward. It would place pressure on their marriage they didn’t need.
So their first night would be in their own bed, in their new house.
She brushed her hair, which she’d kept out of the water in the shower, and put on her new nightgown.
She wasn’t about to wear anything overtly sexy or romantic, since she didn’t want Daniel to think she was trying to turn the evening into something it wasn’t. So the gown she’d bought for tonight was simple and blue with lace straps and a ribbon that tied off under her breasts.
It wasn’t likely to take Daniel’s breath away, but it was pretty, and it matched her eyes.
She tried not to stare at him as she emerged from the bathroom. He’d taken a shower before her, and now he was half under the covers, propped up on pillows, bare-chested, and reading a book.
She wasn’t looking in his direction, but she felt his eyes on her as she went to the corner, where Bear was begging at the base of the dresser.
Jessica picked up the bone, which she’d placed on top of the dresser earlier, and motioned to Bear’s bed.
The dog eagerly scrambled to the bed and greeted the bone with enthusiastic mouth noises.
“Now, you stay,” Jessica told Bear, as she turned back toward her own bed. Bear was usually well-behaved and probably wouldn’t try to leap onto the bed to join them tonight.
Hopefully not, anyway.
Daniel was still watching her as she approached. “Are you tired?” he asked. She couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.
She shrugged. “A little. Not too bad.” She’d been exhausted earlier, during the reception, but now she felt too wired and jittery to be tired. “What about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“What are you reading?”
“Bonheoffer.”
She gave a breathy laugh. “A little light reading before bed?”
“He’s pretty compelling.”
“I’m sure. You can keep reading if you want. The light won’t bother me.”
She felt rather adrift all of a sudden, though. She’d assumed they’d have sex tonight, but maybe Daniel would rather read.
She wasn’t anyone’s dream wife, after all. She thought she was attractive enough, but she doubted any man had ever had sexual fantasies about her. They usually didn’t think about her at all.
When he just looked at her some more, she gulped. “Seriously. You can read, if you’d rather…”
“If I’d rather read than what?”
Her cheeks warmed, but she was determined to be adult and mature about this topic. “Well, I was thinking we might…we might have sex. But we really don’t have to.”
“I didn’t know if you’d want to right away.” He placed the book on the nightstand, which was an immense relief. At least he didn’t prefer Bonheoffer to having sex with her. “We can take some time to get used to things before we have sex, if you’d be more comfortable with that.”
She gave him a faint smile. “We’ve known each other all our lives. I know you. I trust you. Sex is one of the…one of the perks of marriage, so I figure there’s no reason to wait. Unless you don’t want to.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to?”
“I don’t know.”
“I could ask you the same thing. We’ve always just been friends, and I’m not any sort of dream man. I didn’t even know if you’d be attracted to me.”
She realized he was serious—that he had no idea how incredibly handsome and irresistible and sexy he was. And not just to her. Women always noticed Daniel.
“You look pretty good to me,” she said without thinking. He looked more than good without a shirt on, his shoulders broad, his abs tight, and a scattering of dark hair on his chest that she felt the sudden desire to touch.
His mouth tightened with suppressed amusement, and she blushed even deeper. But she pressed on, “But you’ve never been attracted to me, so if you’re not…if you’re not into it, that’s totally fine. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
It might hurt her feelings a little, but she absolutely wasn’t going to take it personally. If this was going to work, then they couldn’t put pressure on each other.
“I can be into it. That’s not a problem.”
“Oh. I just didn’t want to assume that cliché about men always wanting sex, no matter who or what—”
“Don’t assume that cliché. It’s not true. But I can definitely be into this.”
She raised her eyes in surprise and saw he looked almost sheepish.
“You look pretty good to me too,” he said, something thicker in his tone that made her breath hitch.
They smiled at each other—completely understanding each other—and Jessica’s excitement returned with full force.
“Okay,” she said, feeling pleased and gratified that he was attracted to her like she was to him. “So we got all this worked out then?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“So sex tonight?”
He nodded, a warm look in his eyes that made her shiver. “Sex tonight.” Then his expression changed. “Are you a virgin?”
She blinked. “Yeah. You know I believe in waiting until marriage.”
She knew he believed the same thing. She was pretty sure Lila was the only woman he’d slept with before tonight.
“I know. But people can believe it and still not be able to hold themselves to it. I would understand. You know that, right? I mean, I would never judge—”
“I know. I know that. I know you’d never judge. But it’s true.” She ducked her head. “I waited.”
His face had softened when she darted her eyes up to him again. “Okay. I don’t want you to be nervous. I’ll try to be gentle.”
She crawled under the covers as he reached over to turn off the light on his nightstand. The room wasn’t pitch black, and she could see him move beside her.
To cut the sudden tension she felt, she said, “There’s no reason to be too gentle. I don’t think I’m going to break.”
He laughed—his deep, familiar laugh. She suddenly realized she should try harder to be sexy and romantic, rather than making him laugh.
She tried to think of something sexier to say, but everything that came to her mind seemed absolutely ridiculous. Cheap, shallow words. Not like her—or him—at all.
There was no sense in putting on a show, anyway. This wasn’t the consummation of a great romance, and it wasn’t likely to be the kind of sex that blew the roof off the house.
It was just them.
She’d barely resolved herself to this reality when he moved over her and edged down to kiss her softly.
She’d kissed men before, but only a few and not very often, so she wasn’t very experienced. Even his lips moving gently against hers now felt new, strange, exciting. He smelled like soap, and she tried to relax into the kiss.
His tongue delicately glided over the line between her lips. When she parted them for him, he licked lightly across the undersides.
It felt increasingly good. Made her breath quicken and her blood pound. She reached up to tangle her fingers into his thick hair.
She was just getting into it—starting to get the hang of it—when he moved away, but only to trail little kisses over her face and down her neck.
She gave a sharp gasp when he found a sensitive spot at the base of her throat.
“How is it, Jessica?” he murmured against her skin.
“Good.” She gave another gasp as his tongue fluttered against that same spot. “I like it.”
“Can I take your gown off?”
“Of course.” It made her a little nervous again, but it was dark in the room. Her body was okay—long and slim—but it wasn’t anything special.
She helped him pull the gown over her head and then shuddered when his mouth moved down to her
naked breast.
“Oh!” she gasped, grabbing at his head instinctively.
He flicked her nipple with his tongue, sending little tugs of pleasure shooting down between her legs.
As his mouth moved against her flesh, another sensation joined the first one. She shuddered in the wake of it. Then arched up as he nuzzled between her breasts.
She tried to hold it back, but a little giggle escaped her lips.
He raised his head. “What are you laughing at? I might be out of practice, but surely I’m not that bad at it.”
She bit her lip, silently cursing her lack of control. She really hoped he wasn’t offended. “You’re not bad at it at all. Your beard tickles.”
It was the truth, so she might as well admit it. Maybe it wouldn’t spoil the mood too much.
He chuckled, obviously not offended. “If it really bothers you, I can shave it. But I don’t think it will tickle for long.”
She blushed red hot when she realized the implications, and pressure tightened at her groin. Not wanting him to get the best of her, though, she said, “That sounds kind of smug. I’m not sure I’ve seen any cause yet for you to be—”
She broke off with a ragged gasp when he grazed her nipple with his teeth.
“What were you saying?” he asked, a delicious kind of texture to his tone.
“Don’t be smug.” She wanted to laugh, which was so strange since she was quickly growing aroused at the same time.
He kissed and fondled her for several minutes, and it wasn’t long until his beard tickling was the last thing on her mind.
She’d never felt like this in her life—like she couldn’t quite control the motion of her body. Her hips kept rocking restlessly, and she was stroking and clutching at Daniel’s back, head, and chest. She started making silly little sounds, although she tried to stifle them since they made her self-conscious.
Something visceral was changing in Daniel’s body too. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the signs of the change, since he was still caressing her very carefully and often checking to make sure she liked it.
But he was tenser now as he moved on top of her, and his touch wasn’t quite as controlled. He took her breast in his mouth again, but this time it felt more eager, more excited.
She pressed up into his mouth, pushing his head down to hold it in place as he suckled. It felt so good—and so frustrating at the same time—that she couldn’t hold back a soft sobbing sound. One of her legs had somehow wrapped around his hips, although she wasn’t conscious of moving it, and she found herself shamelessly rubbing herself against his hip to ease the ache at her center.
