Shotgun Honeymoon

by Terese Ramin

  The marriage license bureau was just open by the time they reached it.

  Impatient, nervous and excited, eyes on Russ searching for signs of doubt the entire time, Janina went through the formalities, showed her driver’s license and signed at the X as required. Her sprained wrist was nearly as shaky as her breath.

  Russ’s, on the other hand, was as firm and bold as the grin he tipped her and the prolonged kiss he planted on her mouth before picking up the pen.

  Janina sighed and calmed at once, sank into the rock-solid strength of him while he swiftly and surely assigned his life to hers. Something significant had happened between them at that gas station this side of Seligman. She couldn’t name it, but she recognized “it” as an event and clung to it along with Russ.

  Then they took their license, paid at the cashier and headed for the Strip.

  The argument started almost as soon as they left the marriage license bureau.

  Russ was in favor of raiding the nearest cash machine, then taking enough time to book a chapel for a little later in the morning or early in the afternoon while they spent a few hours preparing to do their wedding up right.

  Janina objected instantly. Now that they’d arrived she wanted to get the wedding over with so there’d be no chance of anything getting in their way. She remained absolutely adamant on that score, until Russ pulled her close, linked the fingers of both his hands oh so carefully through hers, dropped a most fiancé-like kiss on her nose and suggested in a hot whisper that shivered through her nape hairs and fuzzed heady suggestions down her spine that he planned to have only one wedding in his life and only one wife, her, and consequently he didn’t want her to regret anything…like not wearing white, or not getting her one opportunity to see him in a rented tux, or having a double-ring ceremony, or…

  Her mouth began to curve reluctantly upward at one corner at shopping for her wedding dress…

  Her smile went shy with delight and widened.

  …picking out wedding rings, one of which he intended to wear for the rest of his life…

  Her smile trembled, her eyes burned and blurred with tears, and she capitulated.

  Just like that.

  Well, just like that after she turned her head to find his mouth on a searing kiss that was as deep as the ocean and bright as the moon, hot as the sun and breathless as the wind, and that made more promises than a false lover ever dreamed of, because neither the kiss nor Janina had any intention of playing Russ false.

  E

  “Platinum,” Russ said firmly when Janina dithered over the fourth tray of wedding rings, unable to decide. “Platinum is the purest and the best, that’s what we want.”

  Janina eyed him worriedly. “It’s too expensive. We don’t need to start out this way, really.”

  A trace of something Janina recognized as typical Levoie amusement twitched the corner of Russ’s mouth and settled in his eyes. He swallowed it valiantly. “Trust me. Do you like the ring?”

  Janina hesitated. Trust him? Oh Lord, she wanted to, she did. Heart, soul, body, mind, instinct and intuition. All of her wanted to trust all of him. And the ring…the ring was…

  Beautiful. Exactly what she’d choose for him—them—if her brain would disengage and she didn’t have to think.

  “Yes,” she said quickly, before she could change her mind again. “Platinum. It’s wonderful. I like the ring.”

  Russ grinned. “Good.” He nodded at the jeweler, who pulled the rings in question and put the other trays away. “Now.” Russ rested his hands on Janina’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go find your dress so I don’t see it before the wedding. I’ll finish up here, pick up my tux and meet you back here in…”

  “An hour and a half,” Janina supplied then planted a laughing kiss on Russ’s mouth. She might feel dithery, but no way did he get to dictate it all.

  “An hour and a half,” he agreed, smiling. “Or less.” He looked down at her and his eyes darkened and grew hot, and everything inside Janina liquefied. “I think I’ll book a room near the chapel,” he muttered hoarsely.

  Unwilling to trust her voice, Janina merely nodded. Then because she couldn’t seem to stop herself, she pressed her body the length of his, flattened her right palm along the nape of his neck, ignoring the twinges in her wrist as she did so, and lifted her face to his.

  His parted lips barely touched hers before he set her away from him with a molten, “God, Janie, don’t tempt me, not here. I don’t know if I could stop.”

  Dazed, Janina blinked, half smiled, blushed when she realized how far she’d unintentionally teased and tormented him. Then the woman in her wakened and brazenly decided she had nothing to be embarrassed for. So on a heated, “See you soon, babe,” she brushed an alluringly seductive hand across his mouth and down his chest, turned and sashayed provocatively away, leaving Russ staring after her slack-jawed, heavy-loined and damn uncertain of his own name.

  She hadn’t anticipated finding the perfect dress at the perfect price in the perfect amount of time, but she did all three and despite being hampered by her injuries when she wanted to try things on.

  The dress was a two-piece affair, ivory and slim with a sleeveless, deep-cut bodice of lace and some stretchy-but-gorgeous fabric Janina couldn’t identify offset by a faux closure of pearl buttons behind which lay the real hook-and-eye closure. Her skin heated when she imagined Russ fumbling to open the bodice and she immediately promised herself matching ivory lingerie, too.

  And she’d worry about getting herself into the hooks and eyes once she got to the chapel later.

  The skirt matched the bodice exactly, though without the stretch. When the two pieces were put together, they looked for all the world as though she wore only one piece.

  A rack of hand-painted, beaded shawls caught her eye and she allowed herself to splurge on one bit of color to go with her dress, before finding a small beaded purse that she was quite sure she didn’t need then turning her attention to shoes. They were a bit more difficult to find as her feet were narrow and she hated heels, but she finally reconciled herself to the lowest pair of heels she could find—two inches—and decided it was time to make the decision about what to wear on her head: veil, no veil, hat, flowers.

  When she found the sun hat with its long filmy ivory trailer about the crown and its bunch of Arizona wildflowers tucked into the band, she didn’t look further.

  Russ had been waiting nearly an hour by the time Janina returned with her purchases.

  The time without her had sobered him—again—plenty, nearly returning him to his usual, reserved and downright reticent self, but the sight of her glowing face and her arms loaded down with purchases brought him to his feet with a grin. When she pressed into him immediately upon reaching him and leaned into him for a kiss, the grin widened and softened to something far deeper.

  “Hi.” He nuzzled her ear. “Welcome back. I was about to send out search parties.”

  “Hmm.” Her murmur was unrepentant. “I promise I’ll be worth the wait.”

  “I know that.” Russ’s whisper was hot. “I just don’t want to lose you before you find out whether or not I am.”

  Then before Janina’s body could recover from that promise, he relieved her of her bags and caught her elbow to steer her toward the car.

  It was time to head for the chapel.

  With her heavily lashed mahogany eyes, the creamy olive skin courtesy of her Spanish heritage, and rarely tamed halo of brown-black hair, Russ had always found Janina beautiful. But the sight of her dressed to wed him rocked him on some visceral level, stole his breath and left him more speechless than usual. She’d grown into the promise her features had presented at sixteen, taken on character that went far beyond simple prettiness. Soft teenage potential had grown into the phenomenal power that was woman: exquisite, electric, peerless.

  Russ swallowed. No longer merely beautiful, she was, simply put, stunning. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Unused to and unstea
dy on the two-inch heels, she walked toward him carefully, unconsciously graceful, her body swaying, floating forward in time to some inner music. Her color was high and her entire being seemed to glow. Her eyes were alight with anticipation and fire, steady on Russ’s as she drew opposite him before the minister. The only evidence of nerves was the dart of her tongue along her stitched lip and one corner of her mouth, the faint swallow that drew Russ’s attention to her throat and down to the medieval cross done in silver with green Baltic amber stones that nestled just above her breasts.

  The sight calmed him. Metal and stone always did. It was one of her favorite pieces of jewelry, he knew; she wore it often. She’d purchased it at a Renaissance fair outside of Santa Fe a couple of years ago. He knew, because the piece was one of his. He doubted she knew he’d designed and smithed it, but it didn’t matter. He’d designed and made the wedding ring after seeing how often she wore the cross.

  He touched it now with an index finger, tipped a smile at Janina, folded her hands gently into his and nodded at the minister.

  The “you may now kiss the bride” part was nearly a disaster, at least as far as the minister’s embarrassment level was concerned.

  The trouble started when Russ fumbled out the rings—including the one he’d made for her and still had in his pocket after Maddie showed up—and Janina had to put his on his middle finger because it was too big for his ring finger. Russ blinked at her, clearly taken aback by his mistake. He recovered quickly, and told her they could either return the ring and exchange it or get it sized, not to worry. Then he took her hand to slip her ring onto her finger.

  Janina took one look at the ring he’d designed and brought with him from home, misunderstood what was happening, thought he’d bought it when he’d shipped her off to find her dress, grabbed her hand back and opened her mouth on a furious protest to tell him that of all the things they couldn’t afford for him to have done, this was chief among them.

  He hushed her with two fingers to her mouth, reclaimed her left hand firmly and told her in the fewest possible words as he deliberately fitted the ring to her finger that he hadn’t bought the ring, he’d made it for her. That’s why he’d suggested she choose a platinum band for him. She stared at him openmouthed for a moment, then burst into tears and wept happily for the remainder of the ceremony.

  Which meant that by the time they got to the “you may kiss the bride” statement, things were already a bit out of hand and, given permission, Janina simply launched herself bodily into Russ’s arms, hooked her elbows around his neck and kissed him as though her life depended on it, and showed no evidence of stopping in the near future.

  Russ didn’t seem keen on the idea of letting her go soon, either. Still, he retained enough presence of mind so that when the minister cleared her throat loudly for the third or fourth time and suggested that they carry on in a room, he came up for air, swung Janina into his arms and got them both out of the chapel as quickly as his long legs could carry them.

  Chapter 5

  The hotel-room door bounced hard open against its stop then held wide when Russ and Janina slammed into it together, breathing hard. Janina was already shimmying her skirt up her hips and had reached for Russ’s fly by the time he kicked the door closed behind t

  “Janie, Janie!” Laughter was harsh, guttural, strained. “Slow down, please. I’m too close to gone. Slow down or I guarantee things’ll be over before they start.”

  “As long as you’re inside me when it happens I don’t care.” The tension, the need in Janina’s voice was as raw as Russ’s, if not more so.

  Russ tried to hold her still. “I do. I care. I’ve dreamed about this too long. I want it good for you, for both of us. Premature is not the way this is going to happen.”

  Janina stilled for an instant then drew a long shuddery breath. She reached up and traced her green-taped, stitched-up fingers along her new husband’s jaw. “How many times have I heard you or one of your brothers say, ‘Trust me’?” she asked.

  Russ simply watched her. Trust me was what he and his brothers said when there was nothing else to say, when they didn’t know if they were coming out of a situation or not, and sometimes when they didn’t trust themselves in a plan. They let someone else do the trusting, have the faith, bring them through when they weren’t sure they could do it themselves. He was pretty sure that wasn’t where Janina was going with her question.

  Maybe.

  The very corner of one side of her mouth curved. She nodded and began to tug him deeper into the room, toward the king-size bed that was its focal point. “You guys say it a lot, you especially. I’ve always trusted you, Russ, and every time you say it, I know it’s true. It’s a Levoie saying, right?”

  He flicked a glance at the bed, brought his gaze back to her and dipped his chin once—cautiously.

  Her smile widened in anticipation, invitation. Her breath moved visibly faster in her lungs, causing her breasts to swell provocatively above the low-cut, heart-shaped bodice of her wedding ensemble. Her eyes were liquid, dark…a summons Russ could not ignore.

  “I’m a Levoie now, too,” she said hotly, and pushed him onto his back on the bed. “Trust me.” She crawled onto the bed over him. “I need you badly now, but nothing’s going to happen before it’s time.”

  For a moment Russ could only stare at her, mesmerized. Then the unholy grin Janina had only seen twice before on him spread across his features and put the devil in his eyes.

  “Trust you,” he said. Not a question. Laughter and something else filled his voice.

  “Trust me,” she repeated, moving farther up him.

  “Because you’re a Levoie now.”

  “That’s right.” Why did she suddenly have the feeling she was getting in over her head in this conversation?

  No time to think about that now. Russ caught her legs and slid his palms up her thighs to her hips.

  “I trust you,” he said thickly. “Panties off.”

  “Not wearing panties.” Janina swung astride him and quickly freed him from the confines of his trousers and shorts.

  “Good—aaah…” Russ’s groan was primal and harsh when she rubbed against him, naked sex to naked sex, for the first time. His member thickened and strained upward, his lower body bucked. “You’re so wet.”

  “I told you I was ready.” Janina’s laughter was both smug and husky. She rose on her knees, undulated her hips and stroked him again with her body. Reached between them to trace the tip of him with her uninjured ring finger. Again he thrust upward and expanded, and a few latent drops beaded beneath her finger. She smiled a deeply feminine smile and stroked them down his length, circled as much of his broadness as she could. “You’re ready, too.”

  Russ’s fingers curled hard on her thighs. Sweat beaded his forehead. “I thought we’d already established that.” His laughter was tight, painful.

  Hers was breathless, giddy. She shifted forward, her grip on him firm. “A woman likes evidence.” She teased him lightly with her entrance.

  In a rush, Russ turned the tables on her, hooked his hands around her hips and ended the play. “Put me inside you,” he commanded. “Now.”

  Janina’s eyes widened, her breath caught. Then, belly already tightening, heat already beginning to coil and flare, she sank onto him.

  Leaned forward onto her hands to take him deeper, faster—and winced.

  Russ caught her shoulders and half rose to sitting, mood forgotten. “Janie, are you all right? I should have my head examined. This can wait. You need—”

  Janina groaned and shut him up with a kiss that was highly explicit, mostly tongue, and exceedingly deep. “I need you,” she said against his mouth. “Hard, inside me, now. And if you pull out, I will scream with frustration. But I can’t ride you easily the way I want to at the moment, so if you’d put me on my back and do the honors?”

  He wanted to be convinced, but all those years of needing to make sure no one hurt her, and especially not him, got in the
way. He hesitated. “Janie…”

  She knew, somehow understood his hesitation. She didn’t know how she knew, especially now, but she did. Perhaps because it was Russ and that was the only thing her intuition needed to cobble it all together.

  She framed his face between her injuries—between the green-and-blue wraps that he hadn’t even noticed when she’d stood before him and said “I do,” because he was the kind of man who’d seen only her in that moment—and kissed him again, this time with passion and something purer, deeper than mere carnality.

  “It was twinges in my wrist, Russ, that’s all. Nothing life-threatening. Painful but not deadly, isn’t that what you say? Not…interrupting. A matter of changing position so my wrist doesn’t hurt, not stopping altogether. Okay?”

  Russ said nothing, only studied her face for what seemed eternity, canting his head from one side to the other and drinking Janina in visually and unreadably. When he’d seen whatever he’d been looking for, he shifted her a bit, raised his knees behind her back and began to rock. His fingers went to work on her bodi

  “If we’re going to take our time, we’re wearing too many clothes,” was all he said.

  Janina gasped and Mmm’d, and swayed into the rhythm he set, wrapping her stockings-and-garter-clad legs around his hips and lifting her chest to his fingers as he undid hooks and eyes.

  “I’m not letting you out of me just so you can get undressed.”

  Russ stopped opening her bodice, leaving her breasts bound, and dipped his head to lick the corner of her mouth, gently tracing the curve of her lips over to her stitches with his tongue. “Is that a challenge?”

  “Only if you feel up to it, rookie.”

  Midnight eyes glittered. “Trust me.”