by M. C. Cerny
“This will be a real marriage, Piper.” His phone buzzes and he reaches into his pocket checking it not once taking his eyes off of me. He doesn’t answer turning it off. All I can do is stare at his semi-erect cock in his pants and swallow back anything smart mouthed to say. I thought we could sign some papers and then go about our merry way. Apparently Milo Lazare has other ideas. The last forty-eight hours have been very strange indeed.
“What is the saying, you might as well give me a test drive?” Oh no he isn’t using his lack of idioms to get to me. Arms spread wide, he shrugs smiling and I want to grab something, anything to hit him.
“Test drive?” I stare at the way his dress shirt stretches across his wide muscular chest, the buttons threatening to pop. Being the gym nut I wonder what kind of workouts he does to stay in fantastic shape like this. I might lose more than my last name in this arrangement starting with an eye if the shirt buttons ping. I know I’m staring but so is he, and I feel like turnabout is fair play.
“I thought American women were more lax in their views on pre-marital sex?” I sputter in confusion. Milo couldn’t be a doctor, he had to be insane. We went from talking about getting married to getting his Visa status so he could save Maisy to having sex without condoms. Is this real life?
“Maybe this was a bad idea?” I whimper biting my lip. Me and my big mouth, my big stupid mouth offering to marry this hunk of man in a brash decision. Is is too late to blame Diana? Images of my sweet Maisy sting my eyes. She needs Milo, and if I am honest I want Milo, and we were out of options.
“Was I wrong?” He takes a step forward and my ass bumps into the exam table behind me. Oh this is wrong for certain, just not the kind of wrong he’s thinking.
“W-wrong?”
“Come on now, Piper. You can’t proposition me without at least knowing what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I-I can’t?” I make the mistake of looking down to see the outline of his cock tight against his dress pants that hide nothing. Abso-freaking-lutely nothing.
Milo lifts me up by my hips and places me on top of the table, paper crinkles under my butt and I shift to move back. “Of course not. It’s called due diligence.” I’m utterly speechless. I don’t get far when he grabs me again and pulls me forward pulling the paper with me.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for due diligence.” My hands press against his chest over his coat and my fingers trace his name embroidered on the pocket over his heart.
“No?”
“Definitely not.” My hand brushes against his pectorals slipping under the coat this time and those hard buttons press into my fingertips or maybe it’s the other way around, I can’t be sure. His cologne is light, spicy filling my nose. There is something totally wrong about being in here at the hospital but nether of us seem to care about the rules.
“Your pulse is elevated.” Holding my wrist, his eyes concentrate on the pulse of my skin under his fingertips.
“I’m weak from blood loss.” I cop out.
He snorts, “Nice try Piper.”
My other hand slides up around the collar of his dress shirt. His head leans down and for the first time I realize how tall he is standing flush against me. My thumb touches the pulse in his neck feeling the same thump-thump-thump-thump that’s coursing through my own body.
“Yours is elevated too.” My hand continues its travels pulling his head down to me. We are so close the only thing separating us is the faint scent of sweet apples from the juice. I lick my lips and taste them. It doesn’t satisfy me nearly as much as Milo’s lips.
“I was going to wait to kiss you, but fuck it.” Milo presses his lips against mine, chins extending to breach the distance. I don’t know why he would want to wait, heck I don’t want to wait. His nose rubs my face as he inhales.
“Piper.” Crooning his lips find mine again and our kiss deepens.
His mouth tastes mine, his tongue licks swirling inside my lips sucking on my tongue. I twirl my tongue with his stroking inside his mouth meeting his for each step of this slow dance. His mouth devours mine until he stops kissing my cheek with a tenderness I don’t expect.
“I guess you like apples?” I say feeling strangely shy.
Grunting he replies, “I like you.” It feels like he’s holding back and I don’t press him again.
I try diffusing the moment with humor. “An apple a day?”
“You’re not keeping me away.” He kisses me again drawing me deeper into his spell. I don’t have time to think about anything but him and where this is and isn’t going.
Temporary, right?
Divorce after a year, maybe two?
I hesitate needing something firmer to stand on. Maybe it’s too late to question our decision but I do it anyway. “We don’t even know each other.”
Milo frowns. “We don’t, but we could try. That’s why I wanted to wait to kiss you, but I’m not very good at denying myself.”
He laughs but it sounds strangled.
“What are you saying?”
“People have married for lesser reasons. In my country, marriages have often been arranged. When I think about it, is this really any different?” Milo moves in to kiss me all over again, but I lean back hands pressing his chest to put space between us. He obliges but doesn’t seem to like it. I’m still wrapping my mind around what he said.
“Arranged marriages?”
“Yes, I’m from Georgia. I’ve been in the US since medical school.” I hadn’t thought about what this would mean to him.
“So you’ve already thought about all of this.”
His hands run down my shoulders. The juice perked me up, but his eager kissing mouth left me hazy.
“I have. I think we can make this work. We’re a little short on time to court each other, but we’re adults.”
“Court?” Such an old fashion word, I hope he didn’t think I would turn into some pliant housewife kneeding bread at dawn.
“Ah, date.” Milo clarifies catching my hair in his hands pulling me in and I wonder what the hell I agreed to after all.
“Do we really have time for that?” I ask as I calculate the days in my head.
“For you I’ll make the time.” He tells me with a kiss on my forehead that lingers and I believe him.
4
Milo
“We should celebrate.” It’s day thirty-two before I’m kicked out of America and we’re standing inside the county courthouse holding a stamped packet of papers. We have our official marriage license with all three copies notarized. The packet feels awfully thin to be so official.
Piper eyes me suspiciously. “Celebrate how?” I like keeping her on her toes and ponder what to do next. It’s early afternoon and if this could lead to kissing her again I would be fine with that. She tastes delicious and apples are my favorite snack when I’m not around her.
Don’t judge me.
I brush her loose hair back behind her ears catching the pink lock between my fingers. “Maybe we should have one date, or at least dinner so we can get to know each other. No friends, just us, okay?” The week has been busy. We both got blood tests and I squared away putting Piper on my health insurance plan once we got married official since it made better financial sense.
Piper looks anywhere but at my face. You might think this wasn’t her idea at all the way she avoids making eye contact. It’s a paradox how brave she was asking me to marry her and now eight days later she can’t even look at me.
“I’m going to have to call my parents. Not right this second but soon. They’re in Arizona right now.” I wonder if she’ll invite them to the wedding but don’t press my suddenly skittish bride.
“Me too. Mine live in London, maybe we could Skype them?”
“Sure. Because that’s not weird at all.” She quips and I’m pretty sure this isn’t the same person who barralled into my office a week ago.
“Sorry, it’s just that I hardly get to see them so we try to do video chats as often
as possible. I have a camera set up in my home office because we usually speak two or three times a week.”
“Oh, wow. Mine are touring the Grand Canyon in their RV. We’ll probably have crappy cell service when we call them.” I can’t say I’m sorry either if the phone cuts out. I’ve had a renewed energy hopeful I’ll get to stay in America and I sometimes forget that Piper has a whole other life I know nothing about.
“Alright let’s go to my place.” I drag her toward my car getting her inside. Rarely do I take women anywhere near my house but since Piper will need to be moving in it seems silly to wait. I’m nervous wondering if she’ll like it. I’ve owned it for a while since living at the hospital was frowned on after my first month working here. The drive over is quiet. I concentrate on the road and force myself to follow the speed limit exactly keeping myself in check.
It’s not until I park my car in a small space between the brownstones that Piper looks around. She hums to herself and I let her inside shutting the door behind us. She’s actually here in my house and theres a tight thumping in the center of my chest seeing her walk around and take it in. I’m proud of what I’ve earned and now I’ll have someone to share it with–even if it’s only temporary. I push the thought down along with the sharp burn in my gut that someday she might leave me.
“Wow you have a really nice place.” Piper leaves her purse on the counter and I walk her around letting my hand fall into the small of her back as if she’s mine. She will be mine, just not yet I remind myself.
“Let me give you a tour.” I guide her through my home.
“You live here alone?”
“I have, yes it has three bedrooms and two full bathrooms and a powder room.”
“No rush to fill those up?”
I chuckle. “Not until recently anyway.” We walk past the foyer. “This is the kitchen obviously, dining room, living room. Down the hall is the master bedroom and a balcony that looks into the backyard.”
Piper drags her fingertips over the marble countertop gently. She’s tactile in everything she does and I itch to have her hands over my body tracing it the same way.
“Drink?” I ask her.
“Sure, whatever you have.”
I open the fridge peering inside, there’s cheese, leftovers, and a few paltry items. Pathetic. I should have thought about this sooner but I was limitied to sparkling water, beer from the last time my buddy Beck was over to watch a game and wine. Shit. I’ve haven’t even spoken to Beck yet.
Internally I cringe, “Wine? Half a bottle of red left.”
“Perfect.”
I fill our glasses and we make small talk finishing the wine quickly on empty stomachs. Smooth, I forgot dinner. A crappy husband I’m turning out to be starving my bride. I’m feeling tipsy because it’s not often I can drink and relax with good wine and even nicer company. Piper is stunning, over the age of eighteen, and doesn’t require medical assistance. I should probably get out more.
I nearly tip the now empty bottle over and Piper catches it in time kneeling on the kitchen floor.
“Good catch.” I praise following her down to sit. She laughs and places the bottle on the floor sideways spinning it.
“Wanna play a game?” The request is met from under her lashes hiding her dark eyes from me. I’m determined to change that.
“Sure.” I spin the bottle wondering how this will pan out.
“Uh oh what should we bet?”
“How about each answer a person gives the other has to get naked.”
“Not fair. I’m wearing half the amount of clothes you are.” She scowls. Pink lips and big eyes I could drown in.
“Totally fair.” No way was I going to let her think she was going to beat me. Oh no, I was determined to get her naked or at least partially disrobed. Admittedly I’m an opportunist.
“I don’t think those are the actual rules. Isn’t a person supposed to lose and then the clothes come off?”
The bottle spins and spins landing between us, no target in sight.
“Do you really feel like losing or getting to know each other better?” And by better, I mean with significantly less clothing on pulling my tie off and unbuttoning my shirt to even things up. Her eyes roam my face making the rounds of my body. I smile under her shy perusaul hoping I pass.
“So what made you want to be a doctor?” She pats a spot next to her and I scoot over leaning back against the cabinets. It’s not comfortable but she’s not nervous and I’ll take it.
“When I was little we lived in Georgia about a half hour from Tbilisi. That’s the capitol city.” My voice gets this cadence talking about my country.
“Is that by Russia?”
“Yes. I’m not unfamiliar with living in a war torn country. Most people think of the larger conflicts. Serbia or Bosnia, but my home was destroyed by soldiers because we wanted independence from the Soviets.”
“I’d never heard of it before.”
“Most haven’t. My country has a president, and a constitution, but we were still fighting up until 2008 in civil conflicts. My parents traveled a lot but gave up the house we had moving to London permanently. The rest of our family lives on the coast of the Black Sea now.”
Piper is inquisitive and genuine. Her voice whisper thin asks, “Did you see stuff during that time?”
“I guess it’s a long answer but yes. I knew what amputated limbs from bomb blasts looked like and bullet wounds. My uncle lost a leg and my dad was in the military. It’s how my parents met.”
“Your mom’s a doctor?”
“No, a journalist. She works for a Canadian publication and traveled all over. They met and it was love at first sight for them.”
“That’s so impulsively romantic.” Her voice is filled with wonder. I think about what we’re about to do ourselves, but say nothing.
“Yeah, I don’t think she’s left his side once since then. She stayed in Georgia to marry my dad. What about your parents?”
“Mine were born and raised here with blue collar jobs. Nothing too exciting except they’re taking vacation time to travel with their RV while my sister and I housesit for them.”
“All the more reason for you to be moving in with me as soon as possible.”
“Right.” Her eyes roll. I’m serious about her moving in and pull her into my lap.
“I’m 38 years old Piper. As nice as I’m sure your parents’ house is I kind of like this one.”
“I kind of like it too.”
“Can I show you the bedroom again?” I coax getting up off the floor keeping her in my arms. We haven’t divested a stitch of clothing in all this time.
“Are you asking me to sleepover before the wedding?”
I bark laughing. “Obviously I am.”
I carry her toward my room. The one I plan to be sharing with her in the next few days. I dump her on the bed tugging her dress over her head, and crawl over her pinning her down under me. She’s lean but soft in all the right places distracting me. Seeing her hair spread over my white bed sheets in a curling dark fan makes my dick pulse hard. I need to slow down if this is just a sleepover, I’m not in any condition to drive her home and I’m not sending her off in some cab.
“So.” She lays pliant her eyes smiling and a little drunk.
“So. This is the bed.” I pat the mattress rolling my hips into hers eliciting a moan that sounds like music and magic all at once making my cock harder between us. Control is not my friend tonight, but it will have to be. I’m saving the other stuff for the wedding night or as much of it as I can.
“Uh huh.” Her hands reach for me touching. The soft pads of her fingers press into my skin in our push and pull.
“And the closet is over there.” I point to the left pulling down the lacy cup of her bra kissing her left breast. In the dark, I lick her areola sucking it in a pop. “And over there is the master bathroom.” I nudge my head to the right leaning down to kiss her right breast cupping her small tit in my hand rubbing the rosy nipple
into a hard nub. I kiss the center of her chest where her ribs begin to separate and the thin skin flutters with her heartbeat underneath. I feel weirdly protective of Piper.
“Milo.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.” Piper pulls my head down practically eating my grinning face. Our mouths open and tongues play tag stroking back and forth. She tastes like wine and sweetness.
It’s surreal having her in my bed, in my house, and about to become my wife in a few days. She is less a stranger and I revel in feeling her body against mine. Her hands slip between us unbuckling my belt and pushing my pants down from my hips. She grips my dick separating it from my boxer briefs in her grasp. She rubs it back and forth, her thumb slipping through precum at the tip. She buffs it over her wet pussy lips kissing the tip to her hole. Heat hugs me coaxing me deeper, coaxing me in more than barely the inch of my crown, but I pull back reminding myself we’re both a little drunk. Not tonight I groan.
“Milo?”
“Shhh, Piper.” I run my hand through her hair pulling her to my chest. Her heart is frantically beating rapid beats per second. I’ve lost my focus and can’t count the thready beat.
“Aren’t we going to have sex?” Her small voice in the dark helps me gain my focus back. We’ve already gotten our test results back. We’re both clean and haven’t had sex in while but that doesn’t mean we have to rush headlong into doing it right this second as much as I want too.
I clear my throat. “Eventually.”
“Eventually?” The way she articulates the word drawn out and slightly pissed off makes me smile. She makes those five syllables sound like ten annoyed punctuation marks.
“When I take you, I want you to be my wife.”
“Uh, what happened to test driving?”
“I’m rescinding?” I lean up on my elbow not sure why I let myself drink that blasted wine. I’m probably not making any sense leaving her confused with my mixed messages. “With everything else so rushed we don’t have time to slow down. Whether it takes us the rest of the days or longer I want something to be special for the both of us.” And maybe ease her into me being in charge in the bedroom. I’m not trying to be misleading.
