Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)

by J. L. Berg

  Smiling, I pulled one off the hanger, remembering Grace’s reaction when I’d held it out for consideration. Her eyes had bugged out of her head as she held up two thumbs in approval.

  It was a bit more risqué than my normal style, but the soft green color was what had initially garnered my attention. After holding it to my body in front of the full-length mirror, I knew it would drive Jude insane.

  Nearly skipping back to the bathroom, enthused now by the prospect of Jude seeing me in my devilish dress, I hung it over the shower door and began curling my long locks of hair. The iron was wide, so it left loose wavy tendrils to frame my face and shoulders. Suddenly, my flat, lifeless blonde mass of hair was full and sexy.

  Now, all I needed was the dress and a killer pair of shoes.

  Shoot, I forgot to grab my shoes.

  Still fully dressed in my drab plane clothes, I tiptoed out of the bathroom, hoping I wouldn’t see Jude before I had a chance to finish my look. It might be silly, but even after the day most women considered their prettiest day, I still wanted to wow him over and over, and that meant not letting him see me until I was completely ready.

  Sexy hair and makeup combined with frumpy clothes wasn’t the look I was going for.

  Besides, didn’t I read somewhere that marriage was all about keeping the spark alive?

  Okay, maybe I was jumping ahead of myself, but I still wanted to see his face hit the floor.

  I made it to the closet without a hint of my handsome husband. Feeling triumphant, I bent down and picked up a pair of peep-toe nude heels. I turned to make a mad dash back toward the seclusion of the bathroom.

  I halted mid-step and froze.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of him. Obviously still in the middle of getting ready, his shirt was hanging over a nearby chair and he was wearing nothing but a pair of dress pants. He’d casually slung his mint green tie over his neck and was kneeling against the inside railing of the windows overlooking the ocean. With a bottle of water in his hand, he slowly sipped it. He was stoic and calm, peaceful . . . beautiful.

  Mine.

  The shoes dropped to the floor, and I went to him like a moth to a flame. Suddenly, I didn’t care about grand entrances or perfect moments. I just wanted this moment, all the moments.

  His breath hitched as my cold fingers touched his bare skin, but he immediately greeted me with his own tender touch.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, resting my head against his back.

  “Enjoying the view,” he answered, turning toward me with a warm grin.

  “I love you,” I found myself saying, almost as if I needed to hear the words once again.

  “I love you, too, more than anything.”

  “Oh! Oh my gosh! Did you see that?” I exclaimed, my eyes bugging out of my head at the faint green light fluttering over the water.

  I jumped, nearly taking off Jude’s head, as he turned to see what I was screaming about.

  “There it is again!” I yelped, pointing.

  He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So much for dinner.”

  “What? What do you mean?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off of the mesmerizing green-blue pattern swirling across the water.

  “I did a crazy amount of research, figuring out when and where the Northern Lights appeared. It’s why I chose this hotel. It’s supposed to have a great view when the weather and time of year is just right. So, I booked us dinner, hoping it would happen then.”

  I snickered a bit. “You scheduled our dinner around Mother Nature?”

  He laughed. “Okay, when you put it that way, it sounds a bit stupid.”

  “I was wondering why you were so nervous. You were scared it wouldn’t happen.”

  He nodded.

  “You should know, as well as I do, that life is a big box of uncertainties. The best things in life are never planned.”

  Pulling me into his arms, we looked out into the night sky, watching with wonder.

  “You’ve never been more right.”

  I didn’t know how long we stayed there, admiring nature’s magnificent display. Dinner reservations and green dresses had been completely forgotten until my stomach began to rumble.

  Jude laughed, turning me slightly so that our eyes met. “Want to order room service?”

  “Maybe later,” I answered, pulling him closer.

  Have you ever made love under the glow of the Northern Lights?

  I have.

  NEARLY THREE WEEKS had passed.

  Three weeks had been filled with laughter, love, and endless adventures.

  Ever since that day in the hospital when Lailah had read to me about wanting to stick her toes in the ocean, I’d known that making every dream and wish on that Someday List of hers come true would become my life mission.

  Giving her so much beyond that was just icing on the cake.

  We’d spent the last two years of our lives slowly ticking away at that list—from sitting in a parking lot as I’d tried to teach her to drive all the way down to taking a hayride and carving pumpkins. I never wanted her to miss out on life again.

  But now, in these few precious weeks, where life had paused and nothing else mattered but the two of us and the new rings on our fingers, I wanted her to know just how extraordinary and big this world was.

  We’d started in Iceland, climbing mountains, exploring ice caves, and yes, even swimming in the Blue Lagoon. We’d spent five magical days in the Arctic before packing up and flying south for something a bit warmer.

  It was then when I’d introduced her to the secluded Seychelles Islands.

  When we’d landed and I’d told her where we were, she’d looked at me, quirked an eyebrow, and said, “Where?”

  I’d laughed, loving that I’d finally stumped her.

  As her eyes had settled on the heavenly tropical views, she’d suddenly not cared where we were, and she’d just fallen in love. Located in the Indian Ocean, the Seychelles were known for their nearly flawless, untouched beauty. It was exactly the type of place I’d envisioned for our second stop.

  We’d spent seven days under the warm heat, lounging on the beach, swimming in the ocean, and enjoying the never-ending views from our private pool. We’d even had our own version of Christmas right there in the middle of nowhere, exchanging gifts, after we’d decorated a tiny palm tree and danced naked to holiday music in our cabana.

  It was a hard place to leave. But I believed sheer curiosity had played its part in getting her on the plane that day as we’d said our farewells, and soon, we had been flying to our last destination—Santorini, Greece.

  Steeped in history, this hillside city looked like something out of a storybook. Thick white houses made from clay dotted the landscape so perfectly that it was as if someone had come along and painted them there. Every building, it seemed, had sweeping views of the sea, and I just couldn’t get enough.

  Kneeling against the stucco railing of our balcony, I continued to stare out, watching the sun slowly set beneath the water’s edge. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, admiring the distant islands and lingering clouds. Every tourist website and travel book had boasted about the beautiful Santorini summers. With clear skies and beautiful beaches, it was a vacationer’s paradise, but during the winter, things cooled down, and so did the weather.

  To me, the idea of having a little slice of Greece nearly to ourselves sounded like perfection.

  And so far, it had been.

  “Watching the water again?” she said, seconds before her head gently rested against my shoulder.

  “I just can’t seem to get enough of it. I think this is my favorite place,” I admitted as the pink sky turned purple.

  “You’ve said that about all three,” she replied.

  I felt her cheek tighten into a smile.

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Every time I’ve found you like this, staring out at the waves, you tell me how much you love the view and how it couldn’t get be
tter than this.”

  “Maybe I’m just really good at planning vacations.” I smirked.

  “I think the water calms you. Is it any wonder you planned an entire honeymoon that revolved around it?”

  I opened my mouth but stopped. Turning, I saw her smiling smugly.

  “See?”

  “Actually,” I retorted, “I did do that on purpose but for a completely different reason.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?” she asked, playfully lifting her chin, as she wrapped her small arms around my waist.

  “Because I wanted to see you put your toes in the water, again and again, in as many places as possible.”

  Her eyes went wide. A look of pure adoration swept across her face as she breathed me in.

  With a purposeful tug, she pulled me toward the bedroom, and I willingly followed.

  “I thought you wanted to take a walk,” I reminded her.

  “No.”

  Her body swayed with a sure rhythm to her steps.

  “Find a place to eat?” I added.

  “Uh-uh,” she replied.

  Her eyes turned back to mine as we entered the dark room, now filled with nothing but the last lingering rays of daytime.

  “You sure?” I asked softly with absolutely no intention of going anywhere.

  Stepping in close enough, I could feel her soft breath against my neck, and I let her presence engulf me.

  “Yes.”

  Her lips touched the bare skin of my collarbone as she slowly unbuttoned my shirt, exposing new bits and pieces of me to devour.

  I watched her for hours, days, it seemed as she took her time worshiping every inch, kissing and licking a heated path along my flesh that filled me with desire until I was nearly drowning in it.

  She’d stripped me bare, in every sense of the word, and now, I planned on returning the favor.

  She was wearing a simple sweater and leggings, and I easily undressed her, taking my time with each piece of fabric like I was seeing her for the first time.

  Each time felt just like that first time—exhilarating, new, wondrous.

  My heart still fluttered and faltered at the mere sight of her naked skin. My chest would constrict whenever I felt our bodies join, and a lump in my throat, heavy with emotions, would form as she called my name over and over, knowing I’d be the only man to ever hear her cries of passion.

  Arching her back, I gently lowered her to the bed—kissing her shoulders, stomach, and hips—as I ventured down her lean long body. She squirmed in anticipation, aware the instant my mouth hovered around her upper thighs what my intention was.

  “Please,” she begged, her voice breathy and low.

  “Take control,” I urged, loving how fierce she’d been on our wedding night.

  “With words?” she asked, sounding a little doubtful.

  Bedroom talk always made Lailah a bit squeamish.

  “Words work. Hell, you could direct my damn head if you want. It’s your rodeo. I just want to see the powerful woman I married. But after this, I’m taking control again,” I warned with a cocky grin.

  Her indecisiveness turned more and more decisive as the idea developed in her mind. Finally, her expression grew determined as her eyes narrowed in on me like I was her prey for the evening. Her tongue darted out, sweeping across her lips, and sure enough, my cock responded, hardening in length, as I watched.

  My palms twitched, and my mouth ached to do something, anything, as I waited for her instructions. I needed to touch her. Every second was agony until her hand finally reached out, grasping my hair to guide me forward.

  Knowing the idea of giving instructions probably made her nervous and uncomfortable, I decided to go easy on her. Plus, the idea of holding out any longer was out of the question.

  With both hands wrapped around her thighs, I spread her wider as she pulled me closer. With her body opened like a fucking Christmas present, I didn’t hold back, knowing exactly how she liked it.

  Her cries tore through the silence of the bedroom, spurring my frantic motions further. As her moans grew deeper, my tongue moved faster, harder, sucking and lapping her sweet taste, until she was nearly writhing off the bed. She detonated beneath me, coming apart in pieces, while I felt each quake and tremor of her orgasm against my mouth.

  Raw need consumed me as I dragged out each endless spasm to its fatal end, extending her pleasure for as long as possible. I wanted to take her, staking my claim and consuming her, but my need to protect her always outweighed everything else. Rising from the bed, I reached for the nightstand but felt her hand steady me.

  “Just one night, please.”

  My eyebrows furrowed as I stared down at her in the growing moonlight.

  “Let me just feel you, feel us, for one night.”

  My head shook back and forth, giving my answer, before the word even left my lips. “No, Lailah. I can’t.” I hated denying her anything.

  She sat up as she folded her arms across her chest.

  Reaching down, I clasped her chin in my palm, tilting her head upward. “I love you, more than anything in this world, Lailah, and as you can see, I would give you anything to make you happy . . . but not this. Please don’t ask this of me.”

  Her eyes rounded as understanding replaced doubt, and finally, she nodded.

  Reaching toward the drawer, I pulled out a condom and tore off the wrapper without breaking eye contact. “Let me keep you safe.”

  Pushing her back on the bed, I knew, no matter what, I’d always keep her safe no matter what life threw at us.

  “Do we really have to go back?” Lailah asked.

  We packed up the last of the luggage and took one final look at the vibrant blue Aegean Sea. It was a perfect cloudless day, the kind where the view seemed limitless and you could see exactly why mythical creatures and gods had been created in a location like this.

  Sometimes, there were places on earth that truly felt divine, where being amongst them felt like we were intruding on someplace above our station. Santorini and every other place we’d visited on this honeymoon were exactly like that. Being there, experiencing it, felt as if a slice of heaven had dropped down to earth, and we had accidentally stumbled upon it.

  We were incredibly lucky to have such places around us to discover. I only hoped I would be able to take my own angel to visit each of them.

  “I’m afraid so. We have to return to reality sometime.” I took her hand and grabbed one of our suitcases.

  We turned toward the door, and I saw her take one glance around the room before heading out.

  We’d come back. I’d make sure of it.

  Her attitude was bleak by the time we arrived at the tarmac and boarded the plane.

  The wedding, the honeymoon—all of it was over.

  I smiled warmly, realizing it was probably a normal reaction every woman had, and I tried not to take it personally. The last year had been spent getting ready for those precious moments down the aisle, and when those were done, we’d had three weeks of vacation to spend in each other’s arms. Now, it was time to go back home, back to school, and back to work.

  “Hey, you do remember we still have the holidays to celebrate when we get back, right?” I reminded her, wagering that tidbit of information had gotten lost in her post-honeymoon depression.

  Her eyes perked up, and they met mine.

  “Oh! I totally forgot about that!”

  “And I might have also forgotten to mention that your parents are flying in!”

  Her gasp of surprise was followed with a squeal of joy as she threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek.

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!”

  “Well, it is only ten in the morning,” I joked.

  “I guess I’d better go Christmas shopping when we get back!” she exclaimed merrily.

  And there was my girl again, happy and thrilled to be going home. She’d just needed a jump-start.

  Now, I had to make a few calls and figure out how to
get her parents on a plane—pronto.

  WE’D HIT THE ground running the minute the plane had landed.

  School had started back up, business meetings had been scheduled, and family had arrived for our after-Christmas Christmas celebration. As much as I missed the quiet of just the two of us tucked away in our secluded honeymoon hideouts, I had to admit, it had been nice coming home. Five-star luxury just couldn’t top the sheer comfort of falling into our own bed again. And even though I hadn’t spent as much time with my new husband, there was something to be said about seeing him back in his routine. As much as it sometimes seemed to stress him out , this job—his family’s legacy—really was his calling. I could see it in the way he presented himself to employees, the passion he carried in his words, and the details he put into each and every single action.

  Plus, the return of his three-piece suit hadn’t hurt.

  Nope, not at all.

  It had taken days, but I’d finally finished unpacking everything from our honeymoon. Clothes had been put away, mementos and trinkets had been stored and put on display, and the few gifts I’d bought had been wrapped and stored under the tree until tonight when we’d leave for Jude’s mother’s country estate.

  The rest of the gifts, I’d purchased earlier in the day, doing a quick after-Christmas splurge.

  Last-minute shopper? Me? No way.

  Or at least, I usually wasn’t, but I’d had this little thing called a wedding—not to mention, four finals, all of which I’d aced—distracting me from the daunting task of buying presents for my now very large family.

  It used to be just my mother and me, and now, I had an entire family to buy for.

  I smiled, looking down at the large pile of presents under the tree, reminding me of all the people I was blessed to have in my life.

  “You ready to go?” Jude called out from the bedroom. Walking down the hallway, he appeared in a pair of dark jeans and a gray sweater.

  “Yes, we just need to pack the presents.”