by Cathie Linz
Clothing—hers and his—flew in every direction. The rough moistness of his tongue circling her nipple diverted her from her explorations of the lean hardness of his body, Excitement shot through her, heightening her craving to have him lodged within her. “Now,” she whispered, as she reached for him. “Don’t make me wait…”
With one electrifying thrust he made her his, joining them in a union that was both physical and spiritual. Leashing his own ardor, he made sure to satisfy her first: She could feel the muscles of his thighs flexing against her own as he rocked against her.
The anticipation was strong, building deep within her, deeper than ever before, stirring and soaring, expanding and contracting, rippling waves that grew. and grew. intensifying with every sliding thrust of his body.
Her breath caught, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders at the sensations flaring within her. Brett had the feeling of being suspended, poised on the knife-edge of a pleasure so sharply intense it was almost a pain, a delicious addictive pain that instantly overflowed into joyful pulsing surges so powerful she cried out in a primal display of ultimate feminine fulfillment.
Gasping her name, Michael threw his head back as he froze above her, prolonging the moment as long as he could before his climax overcame him and sent him tumbling into her welcoming arms.
“I have a small cabin in the mountains in North Carolina. If you want, we could go there for a belated honeymoon,” Michael said much later. They lay together, their legs entwined, her cheek resting on his chest, just above his heartbeat. “It’s nothing fancy…”
“I don’t need anything fancy,” she assured him, kissing the line of his jaw. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here. I’ve got everything I want right here.”
Tilting her face up to his, he kissed her before murmuring, “If I had to do it all over again there’s only one thing I’d do differently…well, two things.”
“What are they?”
“I’d tell you I love you sooner…and I’d marry you in a big family wedding.”
One month later…
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Father Lyden said. “You may kiss…”
Michael had lifted Brett’s veil and lowered his lips to hers before the priest had even finished speaking. His lips covered hers with seductive devotion and devilish adoration. Brett no longer doubted that he loved her. She knew it, just as she knew how much she loved him more every day.
She didn’t hear the sound of Father Lyden clearing his throat, she didn’t hear the laughter of those in the church. But she did hear her daughter, Hope Angela Janos, squealing at the top of her lungs.
“The ink isn’t even dry on her adoption papers and already she’s making trouble,” Michael muttered as he broke off the kiss.
“She wants her daddy,” Brett noted. “I want him, too,’“ she added with a saucy grin before turning to face the congregation.
Brett wore the same dress she’d worn at city hall, only this time they’d exchanged their vows in front of a con: gregation filled with friends and family. Juan and Linda were there, as was Michael’s secretary Lorraine. Also present and teary-eyed were all the tenants from Love Street—Mr. and Mrs. Stephanopolis, Frieda and Consuela. Keisha stood up as her matron of honor, while Michael’s brother, dark-eyed Dylan, was the groom’s best man, having flown in all the way from Arizona, his third state in as many months. The entire Janos family had shown up, with plenty of distant cousins and friends of the. family.
Instead of presents, the new couple asked that donations be made to St. Gerald’s Youth Center. At the reception given at Michael’s parents’ house, Father Lyden said he’d received enough money to begin renovations on the old gym.
There was much celebrating, topped by toasts of pálinka. By now, Brett was proud to be able to say the traditional toast of Egészégére like a native, much to the delight of her in-laws. She could even down the shot glass of chilled pear brandy without choking on it.
Brett liked Michael’s younger brother, who seemed to be full of the devil, but she worried about Gaylynn, who had just recently taken a leave of absence from her teaching job in the inner city, saying she had burnt out. Her haunted eyes attested to that fact. Gaylynn was leaving right after the reception, driving down to stay in Michael’s cabin in North Carolina. Brett hoped the change of scenery would do her good.
“If you two don’t mind, I’m going to head on out now,” Gaylynn was telling them. “It’s getting late and I’ve got a long drive;”
“You could always wait until tomorrow…” Michael began, in his big-brother voice.
Brett put her hand on his arm. “Don’t you have something you want to give your sister before she leaves?”
“Yeah.” Michael gave Gaylynn one of his trademark bear hugs. “Have a good trip, kiddo. Oh, yeah, and take this with you.” He handed her a closed cardboard box.
“What is it?” Gaylynn asked.
Knowing what was inside, Brett smiled as Michael said, “Just a little something from the Old Country to bring you luck.”
After she’d left, Brett said, “Do you think she’ll be all right?”
“I’ll have my friend Hunter check in on her.”
“Should we have warned her about the Rom box?”
Michael shook his head. “She already knows the legend.”
“That’s more than I did.”
“You don’t still think I married you because of that love charm, do you?”
“I think I’m very glad that I was the first woman you looked at.”
“You’re the only woman I’ll look at,” he said, bending to kiss her. “You sure you’re not sorry about skipping a honeymoon for now?”
Turning slightly in his arms, she watched as her motherin-law held Hope by the hand as the baby took faltering steps toward Consuela. The little girl couldn’t walk by herself yet, but the time was soon coming. And Brett didn’t want to miss a minute of it. “No, I’m not sorry,” she said huskily. “I’m not sorry about anything, not when I’ve finally gotten everything I ever hoped for.”
“Have I told you today how much I love you?” Michael whispered in her ear.
Now Brett felt married. “I just hope the box brings your sister as much love as it did us,” she whispered as she stepped into her husband’s welcoming embrace.
* * * * *
ISBN 978-14592-7898-1
MICHAEL’S BABY
Copyright © 1996 by Cathie L. Baumgardner
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