“I didn’t listen to you because you were wrong. Why would I take directions from someone who’s head is up their ass? Pretty hard to navigate that way.” I rolled my eyes and stalked off, not bothering to see if he was following me or not.
Twenty-six hours, five cities, four flights, and one boat ride had finally taken us to our honeymoon destination, Venice, Italy. The full day of travel had been hard and by the time we got to our hotel around one this morning, all we’d been able to do was shower and drag ourselves into bed. The hotel, having heard it was our honeymoon, had even left chocolate covered strawberries and champagne chilling in a bucket in our room that we’d ignored.
The next morning, we’d woken up to a full, hot breakfast delivered to our room around ten. I was glad to see the food since the last thing we’d eaten had been in an airport but felt like I could have slept for another five hours at least.
Seeing how our afternoon was going, maybe we should have forgotten about this tour and stayed in bed. Only twelve hours into our honeymoon, and we were both at each other’s throats. Arguing, bickering, sniping, about anything and everything.
We’d been walking around in circles for over two hours, trying to find the location of our walking tour, but navigating Venice was nearly impossible. I watched what were clearly locals streaming past us as we blocked traffic on a little marble bridge overlooking a small canal and I envied them.
They all looked well-rested, and like they knew exactly where they were going. I, on the other hand, looked like an electrified raccoon. The moisture in the air here was playing nasty tricks on my hair and makeup, making it frizz and run, respectively. I don’t know how Venetians dealt with the constant humidity but vowed to figure out their secrets during our weeklong visit here.
A large, warm body pressed against me from behind, and I instinctively relaxed into it. Bryson reached around and took the map from me, folding it up and tucking it away. He grasped my shoulders and spun me around to face him before placing a kiss on the tip of my nose.
“Your nose is cold.”
I nodded with a frown. “It’s colder here than I thought it would be,” I admitted.
“It’s because we’re on the water.”
I nodded again and sighed, leaning forward to rest my head against his sturdy chest. His heart was thumping slow and steady beneath my face and I took comfort in his calmness.
“I’m going to email the tour people and let them know we need to reschedule for tomorrow.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “We’re tired, we’re grumpy, and we could both use something warm to drink.” He leaned back and met my eyes, brushing stray strands of hair from my face.
His beautiful hazel eyes were more brown today with just the smallest bit of dark green in the very center. They calmed the turmoil spinning out of control within me and I released a big breath of resignation. He smiled wide and turned to scan our surroundings. “Let’s head toward the Rialto and we’ll find a café before going back to our hotel.”
I nodded again and took his hand, letting him lead me through the never-ending crowd of people until the large Rialto Bridge came into view. We climbed up one side of the stone arch and stopped for a moment at the top.
The Grand Canal slid beneath us, its waters full of boats carrying various supplies to the series of islands that made up Venice, and gondolas carrying wide-eyed tourists.
“Can we take a gondola ride tonight? I read somewhere that there are sunset tours you can book.”
“Sounds good to me,” Bryson agreed before slipping his hand into mine and tugging me down the other side of the bridge.
We found a small café and ordered two hot chocolates and a slice of tiramisu upon the recommendation of the waiter. Thankfully, everyone we had met so far spoke enough English to understand us because all we knew how to say was “hello”, “thank you”, and “goodbye”, which would make for awfully short conversations.
After we finished our drinks and dessert, we wandered out of the café and over to our hotel that was within view of the Rialto. We barely greeted the concierge at the front desk before trudging up the stairs to our room.
Clothes flew off our bodies, but there was nothing sexual about it. Stripped down to our underthings, we both crawled into the double bed. He gripped my hand, squeezed it three times, and we were asleep within minutes.
We awoke a few hours later with much better attitudes and the desire to try exploring the city once again. We found a sunset gondola ride and dressed warmer than we had earlier before heading out to find where the tour left from. Unlike last time, we asked for directions and located the spot with plenty of time.
While we waited, we sat on a nearby bench and I pulled out my phone to upload some pictures I’d taken earlier. A notification popped up that didn’t look familiar, so I clicked on it and was directed to an app I’d only downloaded a couple weeks ago.
“Oh my god, Bryson. Guess what this week is?” He looked up from his own phone questioningly. “It’s my fertile week!” I held up the phone, so he could see the series of little green squares on the calendar indicating when I’d be most fertile.
Bryson scrutinized the phone’s screen before his wicked hazel eyes met mine. “That means we get to fuck?”
My cheeks felt like they’d been lit on fire as I slapped his chest and looked around to make sure no one had heard him. “Bryson!” He only laughed at my discomfort. “First of all,” I whispered furiously, “we’re trying to make a baby, so we’ll be making love, not fucking.”
I grumbled a few choice words under my breath, some of which might have been something like “damn”, “impossible”, and “frat boy”. Who knows for sure though, right?
Bryson laughed harder and pulled me to his chest. “Whether it’s fucking or making love, I’m in.” I rolled my eyes, and he just laughed harder. “When do we get to start? I’m ready when you are.”
I shook my head. “Well, I’d say we at least need to wait for a bed,” I said sarcastically.
Bryson could not be deterred.
He made a show of observing our surroundings before jerking his head toward a darkened doorway nearby. “What’s wrong with over there?”
I shook off his arm and sat up straighter, fighting to keep the smile off my face. “You’re disgusting. I’m not having sex in an old alleyway.”
“Hey, don’t knock it because it’s old. The youngest building in Venice is like six hundred years old.”
I raised a brow. “Reading the tourist material we picked up at the airport, are we?”
Bryson shrugged and wrapped his arm back around me. He leaned close until his warm lips met my chilly ear. “If you’re going to make me wait, I’m going to make it hard for you.”
I rolled my eyes again. “I think I can control myself.”
He ran his tongue along the edge of my ear and I fought off a violent shiver. “We’ll see about that, wife.”
That word wife did more to my insides than his tongue ever could. Judging by the smug smile on his face, he knew that too. I crossed my arms over my chest in defiance and readied myself for a long night of holding him off.
Thankfully, the gondolier called us over then, and we boarded his sleek, black gondola. I was thankful for the company, sure that it would throw a wrench in Bryson’s plans.
I was wrong.
We took our seats in the back of the gondola, right in front of the gondolier, and Bryson immediately slid his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side. I was enjoying his warmth until the hand around my shoulders started wandering.
“Bryson!” I whispered angrily.
“What’s the matter, babe?” he asked innocuously as his hand slid further down my side until it was skimming the side of my breast.
I squirmed in his arms, but that rocked the boat and I stopped immediately. I knew the canals weren’t deep, but I was not going to be the idiot tourist who capsized a gondola.
“Cut the shit, Thompson,” I growled under my
breath.
He leaned down and sucked my earlobe into his mouth. It slid from between his lips with a pop before he answered. “I’m just holding my wife.”
His wandering hand had somehow found my hardened nipple through the layers of clothes I wore, and he slowly, maddeningly circled it while I fought to keep still. A small gasp flew from my lips as he pinched the little nub between his fingers.
I crossed my arms over my chest and it thankfully dislodged his hand from my breast. Another few minutes of that and I would surely have embarrassed myself in front of the poor unsuspecting gondolier.
But, Bryson wasn’t done.
He slid that same hand down my side where it rested on my hip and pulled me closer until there wasn’t even a breath between us. My eyes widened as his fingers slid from my hip to the space between my legs.
Surely, he wouldn’t.
Bryson was still for a long moment before one of his thick fingers pressed against me. Finding little resistance through my thin pants, his digit found my clit, and I barely withheld a gasp.
The space between my legs felt damp as I tried to focus on the sights around us and ignore the things Bryson’s fingers were doing. I was throbbing beneath his touch and without my permission, my hips slid further down the seat and widened.
Bryson immediately took advantage of the new position and replaced his single finger with another, covering a larger surface area and pulling another gasp from my lips.
How much longer could this damn ride be?!
Bryson leaned down again to whisper in my ear. “I want you to come, Kenzi.”
My eyes widened in alarm as I met his hooded gaze. I shook my head sternly, and Bryson responded by pressing his fingers harder against me.
“Yes, baby. Come for me.”
I let out a frustrated breath and squirmed against his fingers. I could tell by the tightening in my lower belly that it was coming dangerously close to not being my decision anymore.
“It makes me so hard seeing you like this, Kenzi,” he murmured into my neck. “You look so sexy right now. I can’t wait to get you back in our room.”
My body and mind were completely at odds. My brain knew that what we were doing was completely inappropriate, but my traitorous body was passed caring. She knew how good Bryson could make us feel, and it seemed like she was the one running the show at this point.
“I wanna’ feel how wet you get when you come against my fingers, Kenzi. I wanna’ see that blush spread down your neck and know it’s also covering those pretty tits of yours.”
Holy shit.
He was upping his dirty-talk game, and I was helpless to fight against it.
“Let me watch my wife fall apart under my fingers now, so I can make her fall apart on my tongue later. You want that, Kenzi? You want to come in my mouth tonight?”
I was a goner. Completely done for.
“Uh huh,” I squeaked as I squeezed my eyes closed against the onslaught of Bryson’s words.
He nipped the sensitive skin that connected my neck to my shoulder and pinched my clit between his two fingers. “Come, now,” he commanded, and my body obliged.
I was trembling so hard I worried I’d shake the gondola beneath me. Bryson kept a steady pressure on the space between my thighs while kissing and licking every inch of my neck he could reach. When I was finally spent, he retracted his fingers and brought them to his face.
With a wicked glint in his eyes, he pulled the two fingers he’d used on me to his nose and moaned. “So delicious.”
My eyes fell closed as a shiver raced through my body. I was too afraid to look up for fear I’d see someone who’d realized what we’d done, so I kept my face safely tucked in Bryson’s chest until I felt the gondola slow.
We stood from our seats and Bryson pressed a tip into the gondolier’s hand. “Grazie,” he called as we raced away from the canal and toward our hotel room.
I think we were hurrying for different reasons entirely though.
When we made it to our hotel, we threw casual greetings at the concierge but didn’t wait for his response before sprinting up the stairs and flinging our room’s door open. It wasn’t even fully closed before Bryson’s lips were on mine and his hands were pulling on my clothes.
He kissed me deeply, using one hand to angle my head to the perfect position as his tongue plundered my mouth. I gave as good as I got, raking my fingernails down the hard planes of his naked chest and nipping his bottom lip.
He groaned into my mouth and maneuvered me until the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed and we both fell onto it in a tangle of arms and legs. Once on the bed, we both slowed down.
The fiery passion was still blazing as hot as ever, but suddenly we didn’t feel the need to rush. It seemed like we were both content to indulge in the other rather than consume them.
Bryson pulled his lips from mine and moved to kiss down to my chest and further to my stomach. “Are you ready to make a baby, Kenzi?”
My belly clenched as a wide smile spread across my face. I nodded, uncertain if I could form words at that point.
“I wanna’ give you a baby,” he murmured as his lips trailed along the skin between my hips. “I can’t wait to be a dad. To make you a mom.” His eyes met mine then, the sincerity in them taking my breath away. “You’re gonna’ make the best mom.”
The tears I’d been fighting won the battle as one glided down my cheek. My smile was still as wide as ever as I pulled Bryson up, so I could reach his lips. “I’m ready.”
Bryson nodded against my mouth and even though we spent long minutes lost in that kiss, it felt like we found each other in it too.
Chapter 7
Present
“He finger fucked you in a gondola?!”
I jumped to my feet and scanned the office before shooting a death glare at my coworker, Josie. “Did you have to say that so loud?! And must you call it,” I scanned the room again and saw, thankfully, no one was paying attention to us, “finger fucking?” I whispered. “What happened to calling it plain old fingering?”
Josie ignored my question and shook her head using her perfectly manicured hand to fan her face. “I had no idea straight-laced, accountant, Bryson had that in him.”
My lips twitched. “There’s a lot you don’t know about him.”
“And you really came right there beneath the gondolier’s nose?”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “Why did I tell you this story?”
I could hear the smug tone in her voice without having to look up. “Because you came into work with a starry-eyed look on your face and I badgered you until you told me what put it there. Why do you think you had a dream about that, anyway? Wasn’t that years ago?”
I frowned. “Yeah, it was. I dunno’. Things have been strained between us lately and maybe this is my subconscious’ way of reminding me of the good times.”
Josie snorted delicately. “Some good times you had there, Mack.”
My lips twitched again and this time I let them widen into a smile. “Girl, the stories I could tell you…”
Josie giggled. “I need more. My love life is pathetically nonexistent.”
“Good morning, ladies.”
We turned together to find Mason walking up to our desks. He was wearing a pair of silver slacks, paired with a lavender button-down shirt that accentuated the incredible blue color of his eyes.
“What has you two so giggly this early in the morning?”
Josie answered immediately. “Finger–”
“Puppets!” I cried out, interrupting my big-mouthed friend before she could finish her sentence.
He raised one dark brow. “Finger puppets?”
I nodded frantically. “Yup. Finger puppets.”
“What about finger puppets?”
“How many times are we going to say, ‘finger puppets’?” Josie murmured.
I shot another glare her way, but she ignored me again. Clearly, I needed to work on looking more f
ormidable.
“Um.” I wracked my brain. “Oh! I’m thinking of getting some for my niece.”
“Nice save,” Josie mumbled under her breath and I made a mental note to kill her later.
Mason’s perplexed gaze cleared. “Maddy, right?”
Now it was my turn to look confused. “Yeah, Maddy. How’d you know that?”
Mason cleared his throat. “Uh, I think you mentioned her once or twice.”
I couldn’t ever remember talking to Mason about my niece. I was going to probe deeper, but he kept speaking.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I came here to ask you something.”
I swiveled my chair toward him. “What’s up?”
Mason coughed awkwardly and grabbed the back of his neck before meeting my eyes. “Well, I’m in a bit of a predicament. I got tickets for me and my niece to see a concert tonight, but she got grounded and isn’t allowed to go anymore.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that?” Where was this going?
He looked away again quickly before meeting my eyes. “The tickets weren’t cheap, and I really don’t want to waste them, so I was wondering if you’d go with me.”
My eyes widened in alarm and I opened my mouth to respond, but he kept talking.
“I would ask one of my buddies to go with me, but it wouldn’t exactly be their thing.”
That made me pause. Now I was curious.
“What’s the concert?”
Mason chuckled. “It’s Taylor Swift.”
“I love Taylor Swift.”
“I know.”
I frowned again. “How do you know that?”
Mason’s smile widened. “At last year’s holiday party, you informed everyone of your preference. I believe your words were ‘I fucking love Taylor Swift’.”
My face heated. I’d had a lot to drink that night. Bryson and I had been fighting on the way to the party and when I got there, all I wanted to do was forget.
But, the fact that Mason remembered was a little odd.
“You remember that?”
Mason’s eyes grew serious. “Of course.”
Trying Page 5
