He didn’t hesitate to follow instructions. “The grass tickles.”
She grinned. “You should feel it on your nipples.”
“Maybe later.”
She straddled him and could already tell that the pose wouldn’t go well.
“Usually my knees are closer together,” she said, lodging them as close to his hips as she could manage. She scooted up his body until she could slide his cock inside her and began to bend backwards.
“Without a man between my legs, I can almost get my head to my feet,” she said.
“You can bend backwards like that and put your head on your feet?”
“Almost.”
But this wasn’t working the way she’d envisioned. Maybe there were some two-person yoga moves they could work on together. She doubted they’d find many penetration poses, however. They’d just have to keep being inventive.
“Maybe mermaid pose instead.”
She sat upright and hooked one ankle in the crook of her elbow and stretched her opposite hand overhead to grasp her wrist. Sed’s eyes widened.
“Ow.”
She dropped her leg. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I was saying ow on your behalf. Are there any poses where you just lie there?” he asked.
“Like savasana? You lie flat on your back and completely surrender to the ground.”
“That sounds nice and missionary,” he said.
“It’s also called corpse pose.”
He cringed in horror.
She laughed. “Am I scaring you?”
“I don’t want to fuck a corpse, no, or a camel for that matter. Aren’t you worried you’ll break something with all those twists and bends?”
“I can feel my limits,” she said. “I can’t, however, move when I’m contorted.” She tried to think of a pose that would open her up to him. “We could try happy baby pose.”
His eyebrows drew together. “We’ve got to come up with sexier names for these things.”
She laughed and leaned over to kiss him. “That’s a plan. And we have all day to experiment.”
“We could just call them all Jessica pose,” he said.
“That’s not very descriptive. How will you be able to request the poses you like?”
“I like everything you do to me.”
She understood that sentiment perfectly. “Then prepare yourself for Jessica pose.”
“I’m always prepared for Jessica.”
*~*~*
Neither of them bothered to put on clothes until it was almost dark and they ventured out of the house for dinner. Since the restaurant was only a mile away, and directly on the beach that their rental house overlooked, they decided to walk. Normally when they engaged in marathon sex, Jessica’s legs tired and her hips ached, but she’d done so much bending and stretching while they’d tried out various poses that her entire body felt sensational. She couldn’t stop smiling and neither could Sed. They’d both enjoyed happy baby pose and had the perma-grins to prove it.
They held hands as they strolled along the water’s edge, watching a few diehards relax in the sand and play in the surf. Almost everyone had already packed up for the day, so the usual daytime crowds had diminished. Jessica didn’t mind getting out for a little while, but she was so enjoying her alone time with Sed. When they were holed up in their rented oasis, she had Sed all to herself. On the beach and in public places, she never knew if someone would recognize him as the talented lead singer of Sinners and hound him for autographs and photos. Or worse, rip off his shirt in a frenzy of excitement. He went through more shirts that way.
“Tomorrow we should stay in and try cooking dinner ourselves,” she said, eyeing the young woman who had stopped walking up the beach to stare at Sed. Maybe it was because he was gorgeous. Or maybe she was one of his innumerable fangirls. Either way, Jessica didn’t feel much like sharing him.
He laughed. “I better get my fill at dinner tonight, then. Your cooking is atrocious, sweetheart.”
Atrocious was a bit harsh. Sed didn’t cook much either, and now that Jessica was pregnant, she suddenly wanted to learn to cook. She dreamed of being the kind of mother who made her family delicious and healthy homecooked meals every night after she’d delivered her daily dose of justice in the courtroom. Unlike Sed, Jessica had never been treated to homecooked meals growing up and felt that she’d missed out on important family connections because of that. Jessica would probably never have a good relationship with her mother, and that idea fueled her desire to be the best mom she could be. Jessica’s children would never wonder if they were good enough or loved.
“If we work together, I think we can pull it off,” she said.
“Together, we can do anything.” He nodded resolutely. “Even cook.”
She laughed—happiness bubbling up inside her—and leaned against his shoulder. “Today has been perfect. I treasure every moment I spend with you.”
“Isn’t the honeymoon phase spectacular? Before you know it, you’ll be yelling at me about putting my socks in the hamper and telling me not to drink out of the milk carton.”
She wouldn’t do that, she thought, but then she grinned. She would totally do that. “We should both enjoy this honeymoon phase while it lasts.”
“I say we shoot for a thirty-year-long honeymoon.”
“Let’s make it sixty. By then I won’t remember where you’re supposed to put your socks.”
“Oh my God, it is you!” a shrill voice carried across the sand.
Sed staggered sideways, losing his grip on Jessica’s hand, as a nearly nude body careened into him.
“I love you. I love Sinners. I love you. I love Sinners.” Sed’s attacker squealed and squeezed him until Jessica feared his eyes would pop out. “I can’t believe it’s really you. Will you sing for me, Sed? Please. I’d die happy today if you sang even one word.”
Sed took the fangirling good-naturedly, carefully working his body out of the exuberant hold the young woman in the tiny bikini had wrapped around his midsection. Sed opened his mouth and let out a tremendous battle cry—Jessica recognized it as the one that headed “Let Go,” a lesser-known song on Sinners’ new album. When he started to sing, she wondered if he’d written the lyrics for just this kind of occasion.
“Let go! Let go! What is your price? My suffering? Let go! Let go! Is it your fate to smother me?”
The woman, unfortunately, did not let go. She tangled her fingers in his T-shirt, and Jessica cringed.
“Hey,” Jessica said, wrapping a hand around the woman’s wrist. “You’re going to hurt him.”
Jessica knew well that he was used to this kind of thing, and he never complained, but then he’d never been married to her, and she wasn’t having it.
“Don’t touch me, bitch!” the fangirl snapped, her gray eyes burning with anger.
“You don’t touch him,” Jessica said, then added, “Bitch!”
“Ladies, ladies,” Sed said calmly. “You don’t have to fight over me.”
Jessica begged to differ. “I said get your goddamned hands off of him.” She wrapped both arms around the woman’s waist and tried yanking her off, but the fangirl dug her heels into the sand and refused to budge.
“What are you?” the woman screeched. “His mother?”
His mother? Jessica released her hold to blink at her. “I’m his wife.”
Fangirl’s face fell, and she looked up at Sed. Tears pooled in her eyes. “You got married?” She sobbed. “But you were supposed to marry me!”
“If only I’d met you first.” Sed patted her head, and Jessica had the urge to rip out every strand of hair his hand touched in that small conciliatory gesture. “If you let go, I’ll give you something.”
“A kiss?” Fangirl said hopefully.
Only if he wants his lips ripped off his face. Jessica crossed her arms over her chest and let him dig himself either out of or deeper into the hole he was in.
“Not a kiss.”
; Jessica was glad he was digging himself out, not further in.
The woman’s arms loosened, and she took a half step away. “Then what?”
Sed pulled his wallet out of his pocket and fished out a bill. He handed her a dollar.
The disappointment on the woman’s face was priceless. Jessica pursed her lips so she didn’t burst into laughter.
“A dollar?” the woman said breathlessly. “I pledge my undying love for you and your stupid band, and you give me a dollar?”
“A five?” Sed pulled out a larger bill.
“I want your shirt,” she said. “And a kiss.”
“No kiss.” But the fool peeled his shirt off and handed it to her.
Let the hole digging begin, Jessica thought.
Fangirl lifted the shirt to her nose and inhaled. God, why did they always do that? The woman’s eyes rolled back, and she swayed. Sed caught her by the shoulders to steady her.
Mighty deep hole you’re digging there, sweetheart.
Before he could react to stop her, the fangirl kissed his chest—directly in the center of the lion tattoo that decorated his skin—and then dashed away, his shirt clutched against her body. Jessica started after her, but Sed caught her arm and shook his head sternly.
“I still love you,” Fangirl called, kicking up sand as she jogged backwards down the beach. “Hope you get divorced soon!”
“How nice,” Jessica said under her breath.
Sed wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her against his side. “How do you feel about eating in tonight?”
“And avoid meeting more of your delightful fangirls?”
“Exactly.”
“You read my mind.”
Chapter Four
The next morning, Sed—disguised in a hoodie, sunglasses, and a day’s growth of beard—followed Jessica through the grocery aisles after they decided they’d attempt cooking together. Sed worried using the stove might signal a fiery end to their honeymoon with, well, a fire, but they had to eat, and Jessica seemed so excited by the prospect of them cooking together that he couldn’t refuse. He’d always hated grocery shopping, but it wasn’t so bad when Jessica was with him. And he didn’t want her to do the shopping alone. She never had to do anything alone that she didn’t want to do alone ever again. He would always be beside her. Unless he died.
Gripped by an unexpected flash of anguish, Sed steadied himself with a deep breath. He’d had the dream again the night before. Again Jessica had comforted him in the night and again he’d been unable to confide his fears to her. The unexpected loss of the most important man in his life definitely birthed the dread he felt, but it seemed that anything could set him into that panicked feeling these days. Seeing Jessica happy—which was wonderful—made him worry about how unhappy she’d be when he died. It was such a morbid thought, he couldn’t share it with her. They were honeymooning, for fuck’s sake. But the idea of Jess grieving for him the way his mother grieved for his father tormented Sed night and day. He never wanted her to suffer or feel alone or sad.
“Iceberg or romaine?” Jessica asked.
Sed turned his attention to the two heads of lettuce she held out in front of her.
“You’re planning to put that on a burger, I hope,” he said.
“It won’t kill you to eat salad.”
He licked his lips—her uttering the word kill sent him into dark thoughts again—and glanced away. “Get what you like.”
“You’re eventually going to have to tell me what’s bothering you.”
He forced a smile, glad he’d been smart enough to wear his sunglasses today, and not just to prevent overzealous fangirls from recognizing him. “Nothing’s bothering me.”
“Right,” she said, placing both heads of lettuce into their cart. “But you’d feel better if you told me what that nothing was.”
“How about some cabbage?” he asked, reaching for a pale green head. “I love cabbage!”
“You do?”
It was okay, but he felt compelled to distract her so she’d stop worrying about what was bothering him. “My grandmother used to make the best cabbage rolls.”
Jessica brightened, and it was all he could do not to toss her into the produce bin and have his way with her. That smile of hers always sent a surge of testosterone through his body.
“I’ll make you some,” she said.
“You know how?”
She shrugged. “How hard can it be?” She pushed the cart a few feet and then stopped to pull her phone out of her purse. She searched online for a recipe and scowled at the screen. “These cabbage rolls are really high in fat.”
“Do they have mayonnaise on them?” He couldn’t help but tease her about her bizarre cravings for the most fattening of condiments.
She elbowed him in the gut. “Not until I put it on them.”
She lifted a cantaloupe in one hand and a honeydew in the other. “Which melon do you prefer?”
“Yours. Should I make sure it’s ripe?”
“Sed!” she admonished, but she shifted one boob between the other two melons. It was definitely the best-looking melon of the three.
“I think you’re supposed to tap them.” He tapped the cantaloupe. “Or is it thump them?” He flicked a finger against the honeydew.
Her eyes widened.
“Wait, I remember. You’re supposed to squeeze them.” He palmed her breast, and the tighter he squeezed, the deeper she drew in her breath. He bet her pussy would be a tight fit at that moment—slick and hot.
A young man—eyes fixed on their inappropriate melon demonstration—walked into a bin of apples and sent them tumbling across the floor. Startled, he backed into the oranges and knocked over a crate, adding to the chaos. Jessica lowered the melons and returned them to their displays before grabbing the cart and hurrying to the next aisle.
“Merv,” said a voice over the store’s intercom, “cleanup in produce.”
Jessica rushed down the aisle, giggling. “We need to swing by the ice cream section.”
“Can’t forget the Rocky Road.” She requested him to buy it for her more often than mayonnaise.
“Or the strawberry syrup.”
“On Rocky Road?” Yuck.
“No. On you.”
Well, okay, then. That sounded like a dessert he could enjoy even more than she would.
While they were waiting in the checkout line, a small paperback caught Sed’s eye. He picked up Fifty Fast Feasts for Fit Families and tossed it into the cart.
“Someone probably got us a cookbook as a wedding gift,” Jessica said.
All their wedding gifts were at his place—now their place—yet to be opened. It was possible that they now owned dozens of new cookbooks. “If it’s a copy of Fifty Fast Feasts for Fit Families, I’ll be offended.”
“Offended? Why? Just hearing you say the title is a priceless gift.” She pressed her tongue against her upper teeth to cut off a laugh, but short bursts of air huffed out her nose in a most adorable way.
“It costs like five bucks.” Sed tossed a hand in the direction of the cheap publication. “And it’s in the checkout line.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” Jessica said.
“If that’s how much a friend or family member thinks of me when buying my wedding gift, then yeah, I’m offended.”
“I didn’t say it was one of your friends or family members. That’s probably what my cousin Fred bought us.”
He laughed and draped an arm over her shoulders. “Then we’ll return that copy and buy volume two: Multiple Magnificent Mayonnaise-Masked Meals.”
“Deal.” She pecked him on the lips before stepping forward to unload their cart onto the conveyor belt.
He nudged her aside. “Let me do that.”
She straightened and planted a fist on both hips. “I’m perfectly capable of unloading a fucking grocery cart.”
God, he loved that temper of hers. He couldn’t help but fire it up a bit more. “Oh yeah? Prove it.�
�
She snatched a pound of ground turkey out of the cart and plopped it down on the belt.
“Wow, you do have mean skills,” he said, faux applauding. He lifted two cases of water in one go and set them on the belt behind the forward-moving meat.
Jessica grabbed a head of lettuce in each hand and tossed them on the counter before reaching for the head of cabbage. Sed blocked her like a basketball player who didn’t care if he got a penalty and seized the cabbage.
“I didn’t want that cabbage anyway,” she snapped, going for a jar of her favorite brand of mayonnaise instead.
Sed tossed the cabbage from one palm to the next and around his back in his best Harlem Globetrotters impersonation. Jess pretended to slam-dunk her mayonnaise on the belt. She then rebounded the jar and scored again.
“Double points for me.”
“Illegal maneuver!” Sed shouted. “I get a free throw.” He took his shot with a roll of paper towels and almost hit the cashier when the roll ricocheted off the belt. She caught the towels in one hand, scanned the package, and stuffed it into a sack.
The cashier watched the continuing unloading-the-cart competition, a bemused expression on her face. By the time the cart was empty, everyone in line behind them was either smiling at their fun or looking incredibly annoyed by their immaturity.
“Was anyone keeping score?” Sed asked the spectators.
“She won,” said a young man who was watching Jessica a bit too appreciatively for Sed’s liking. It was the same guy who’d ogled them in the produce section.
Sed slipped an arm around Jess’s back and stole a kiss. “I know when I’m bested,” he said. “Name your prize, wife.” He wasn’t sure how Jessica felt about being called wife—she might take the sentiment as patronizing—but he wanted to make it clear to Mr. Interested that Jessica was all his. Legally and otherwise.
Jessica stood on tiptoe and whispered into Sed’s ear, “Sex in the back seat on the way home.”
His lower belly tightened with instant need. “You won, babe. It’s supposed to be your prize, not mine.”
“That is my prize,” she said.
Sed was the luckiest man alive.
Lost in Paradise: A Sinners on Tour Honeymoon Page 3
