First Comes Marriage

by Valerie Mann

  Working her hands free, she ran them across his broad shoulders, down his back, feeling the muscles bunching beneath her fingertips. His body, her husband’s body, was beautiful. She lifted her hips higher and dug her nails into his ass.

  He groaned, his breathing changing, becoming harsher and deeper. Pushing up on his elbows, he drove into her, the slow strokes replaced by hard thrusts. He was big, bigger than any man she’d been with before, and her desire built to a fever pitch with each plunge and retreat of his cock.

  The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into her with no warning. She cried as the delicious waves crested and rolled through her. With his own shout of release, Chris slammed home, arching, pulsing into her.

  Finally relaxing, he settled over her and rested his forehead against hers. They panted together for a moment until their hearts stopped pounding. Then he groaned.

  “I can’t feel my legs.”

  Chapter Six

  Chris stared at his wife, his wife, as she returned from the bathroom. Actually, he didn’t know where to stare first. Her long hair stuck out adorably from amazing sex. Her lips were swollen. Those perky breasts…he’d just found his new favorite playground. And yeah, that sweet blush did creep pretty damned low, just as he’d wondered. He put it there and hell yeah, he’d be doing it again. Soon.

  Beth climbed up on the high mattress and crawled over to him. Lifting the fruit tray he’d retrieved from the table while she’d been indisposed, he plucked a grape from a cluster.

  “Eat this.” He held it near her lips.

  She took it and chewed. “Are you always this bossy?”

  “What I am is concerned.” He offered her a pineapple wedge. “You need to keep your blood sugar up.”

  She gave an unladylike snort, ignored the offer, and slipped under the sheet beside him. As though they’d done it a hundred times, he curved an arm around her shoulders and she shifted sideways, molding her body against his.

  “Are you saying I’m going to need more energy?” Snagging the fruit from his fingers, she wrapped her lips around it and sucked, eyeing him.

  His tired cock jumped. Chris stifled a groan. “Oh God, yes.”

  When she’d finished torturing him with her fruit-sucking, he lifted her fingers and licked them clean, hoping to see the gorgeous blush creep southward again. It didn’t disappoint him, much to both his and his cock’s delight.

  “So, Beth…tell me what brought you to this place.”

  If she hadn’t been lying so close, he’d have missed the almost imperceptible stiffening. He waited her out. They may have married as virtual strangers, but they wouldn’t stay strangers for long. Especially not after the unfuckingbelievable sex they’d just had. The next time they shared some connubial bliss, he at least owed it to her to know her birthday, even if he had to play twenty questions to learn it.

  “Come on. Might as well talk. I know your weakness now.” He rolled a palm over one nipple.

  She tipped her head to look at him, humor back in her eyes. “Is that a threat?”

  “Count on it, babe.”

  “Okay, fine. “ She sighed and said, “I didn’t ask for a husband, you know. All I wanted was a date.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I thought Madame Eve was crazy.” Beth began to run the sole of her foot up and down his lower leg. “She told me she wasn’t in the habit of arranging marriages, but based on my wants and desires, she thought maybe she’d found a ‘more permanent match’ if I was interested.” She laughed. “I can’t believe I agreed to it. But when she laid everything out in her email, it made perfect sense.”

  Chris hadn’t thought the similar email he’d received from Eve had made sense at all. For chrissakes, he’d completed a CIA-worthy questionnaire and sent it to a stranger. Panicked, he’d called Jackson, asking what sort of whack-job this Eve woman was to suggest such a thing. After Jackson quit laughing, and it took awhile, the bastard, he’d assured Chris of Madame Eve’s sanity and recommended giving her suggestion some serious thought.

  What had Chris expected him to say? Jackson still floated on a honeymoon high long after his damned honeymoon with Leah was over, thanks to Eve and her matchmaking. He thought she walked on water.

  Chris asked, “So what are your wants and desires, Mrs. Ramos?”

  The leg stilled briefly then started the slow slide up and down again.

  “I was lonely.”

  “And?”

  “I’m not a person who likes to be alone. I like having someone to share my life with—everyday and not so everyday stuff, you know?” She trailed off. Left something unsaid.

  “And?”

  “I want a family,” she blurted. “My ex-husband lied and said he did, too. But after we got married, he wanted none of it. I tried to convince myself that as long as we had each other, I could live without it, too.” Beth swallowed hard. “Call me conventional, but I want kids, a dog, maybe a cat—”

  “No cats. I’m allergic.”

  “Two cats then.” She jumped and giggled when he pinched her ass.

  Chris sat up, tugged her with him, then arranged the pillows against the headboard until he and Beth were comfortable. Physically comfortable anyway. His sisters loved to remind him of his limited male intuition, but from her sudden silence, even what little intuition he had told him the confession embarrassed her.

  “Your husband was a dick and should be strung up by his balls.”

  “Ex-husband.” She giggled again. “And by the way, tonight he’s grateful to you.”

  “For what?”

  “For saving him from future alimony payments.”

  “Ah. Well, I got the better end of that bargain.” Chris nodded. “And he’s still a dick.”

  “Thank you.” Beth smiled and rubbed her hand over his chest. Rosy color stained her cheeks. “So, what about you, Mr. Ramos? I know you want a family because I was very specific with Eve that you and I had to be on the same page about that.”

  “You may get more than you bargained for with me.” When she raised her eyebrows, he added, “I come from a large one myself. Three brothers and two sisters. Dozens of nieces and nephews, cousins. I don’t think anyone is sure how many….”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’m an only child.”

  “Not anymore.” No, she’d never be alone again. If his huge family all lived near each other, they’d have their own zip code, and they would absorb her into the fold, no questions asked.

  She bit her lip. “But, what if …I’m not like you….”

  “They’ll accept you, gringa. You’re one of us now.” He kissed her shoulder. Like it or not, once a Ramos, always a Ramos. Not to mention, after she gave him hell for not telling her he’d gotten married, his mother would be doing cartwheels that her eldest son had finally tied the knot. Final absolution would occur when they gave her another grandchild to spoil.

  As if she’d heard his thoughts, Beth asked, “What about kids? Ours, I mean.”

  Their eyes met and held. Fear filled hers. Not the fear of the unknown like he’d seen before their wedding, or apprehension about marrying into an unfamiliar culture. This fear was raw. She’d laid herself bare and open to disappointment when she told him what she wanted, needed, to be happy and fulfilled. She barely knew him, but she’d taken the risk anyway. That risk, more than anything, spoke volumes about the importance of family to her. Her ex-dickhead of a husband hadn’t deserved her or what she’d offered him.

  Unfamiliar protectiveness flowed through Chris. “I definitely want children.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “How many do you want?”

  “How many can I have?”

  Cupping his face, she leaned in for a kiss, toying with his lips. She slid her tongue over them in a sensual glide that had him instantly aroused. He opened his mouth, inviting her in, but she ignored the invitation, and continued to sample him. When her fingers wrapped around his cock and began to stroke, he jerked.

  But he didn’t tell her
to stop. She palmed him, sliding up and down, slow and steady. He spread his legs and his head hit the pillow. Fuck, that feels good. He groaned and thrust his hips, pushing into her fist. His balls drew up, ready for action, his spine tingling with the start of a monumental orgasm.

  She stopped. He opened his eyes.

  A heartbeat later, she straddled him and impaled herself. Pressing her hands against the headboard near his head, she began to ride him, hard and fast. He locked his hands on her hips, digging his fingers into her ass. The orgasm steamrolled forward again, barreling up from his gut before it roared through him.

  “Fuck!” He arched, his head slamming backward. She continued to rock back and forth, showing no mercy. Wave after wave of spasms rolled over him until he could take no more. Gripping her hips again, he forced her to a halt.

  His voice broke like a pubescent boy’s. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  Chapter Seven

  She’d just slipped her feet into the new flip flops when Chris emerged from the bathroom. Wearing khaki pants and a polo shirt, he looked as handsome as he had for their wedding. Although now that she knew what was under his clothes, she didn’t particularly care what he wore, as long as they were easily removable.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Nice shoes.” Beth smiled but before she could respond, he nodded at her cell phone on the desk by the door. “While you were in the shower, your phone rang.”

  Glancing at the screen, she frowned. “It’s from this area code. Probably the tow shop calling about Honey.”

  “Your car? Alex mentioned it.” He chuckled. “After today, maybe it’s time for a new name. Lemon, maybe?”

  “Don’t even go there. I’ve had Honey since high school.” Old, worn, faded, and unreliable, except where Bernie the mechanic’s kids’ college funds were concerned, Honey had nevertheless been a solid presence in her life. Beth could complain about the lazy sack of bolts all she liked, but nobody else had earned that right. Although Honey had been called worse than Lemon. Much worse. “She hates men or I’d let you drive her to North Carolina.”

  Chris laughed again. “I’ll pass, thanks. But I’ll make arrangements to have her transported back East.”

  “Thank you.”

  He sat in a chair by the window and tied his shoes. “By the way, Gina called to discuss her plans for our dinner.”

  Beth’s stomach growled. When was the last time she’d eaten? “I was reading her credentials in the hotel restaurant guide. She’s pretty well-known.”

  “I guess so.” He shrugged. “She’s just Gina to me.”

  “You kissed her. She must mean something to you.”

  Chris glanced up. “If you tell Jackson, I will deny this, but I was drunk and I don’t remember kissing his sister. She was in no better shape than me, so I doubt she remembers either.”

  “Well, Jackson obviously does.” Beth enjoyed goading him.

  Standing, he picked up his watch from the dresser. “Jackson caught us. You’d have thought I was defiling her, the way he carried on. Drunk or not, nobody forgets his wrath.” Chris slipped the watch over his hand and wrist.

  “Why is he so protective of her?”

  He shrugged again. “We’re Latino. It’s what we do.” Since that apparently explained everything, he moved on to more important things. “Gina said she and Leah have planned a special surprise for us.”

  Beth perched on the edge of the desk. “What kind of surprise?”

  He approached her then, his eyes filled with the desire she’d seen earlier. Easing her knees apart as far as her skirt would allow, he moved in between them. Her belly filled with anticipation as he eased her chin back with one finger and kissed her softly.

  “A special one,” he repeated, slipping a hand up her thigh. “Speaking of special secrets—”

  They both jerked at the sharp rap and muted call from the hall. “Room service.”

  With a grunt of annoyance, Chris opened the door, took a large white wicker basket from the waiter, and tipped him. He set the basket on the floor and peeled off an envelope taped to the lid. Slipping a finger under the seal, he skimmed the note card inside.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Looks like we’ll be enjoying rooftop dining.”

  Beth had read the restaurant guide. That didn’t make sense. “The Castillo doesn’t have a restaurant on the roof, does it?”

  He handed her the card. “No, it doesn’t. But this says we’ll be having an intimate dinner with a view, and I know exactly where we’re going.” Grasping her wrists, he nudged her back until she bumped into the edge of the desk again. He nuzzled her neck. “You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

  Oh, the man had already figured out how to make her hot and wet. She squirmed with the achy need building in her core.

  She tilted her head to give him better access to her bared throat. “Will you make sure I don’t fall?” Lord, was that her voice, all Marilyn-Monroe-breathless?

  Chris let go of her wrists and palmed her ass, dragging her up to meet his hard cock. Her eyes fluttered closed as he worked his mouth back up to meet her lips, and gave her a sweet, soft kiss.

  “When you’re with me, querida, you’ll never fall.”

  That’s what we do.

  She opened her eyes and understood for the first time what swoon meant. Her chest tightened and she felt lightheaded at the protective, possessive gaze staring back at her. He kissed her again and backed away, holding out his hand. “Come with me.”

  ***

  Chris pushed through the heavy metal exit door and tugged Beth out of the stairwell onto the roof.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  “I told you I know where I’m going. Jackson, his brother Jagger, and I used to swipe wine from the kitchen and come up here when we were in college. It’s private and security pretended we weren’t here. ” He led her to a corner far away from the equipment littering the area. As he’d thought, a small but elegant table had been set. A vase of red roses sat in the center of the white linen.

  Standing at the edge, she gripped the security railing and leaned over it. Her hair blew in the evening breeze. She was beautiful. “Look! This is amazing. I can see everything from up here.”

  He latched a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back a few inches. “Yes, and that’s far enough.”

  She turned and grinned, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Saving me already, Mr. Ramos?”

  “Maybe.” God, he loved her mouth. And her eyes, and her response whenever he touched—

  Jesus! She’d squeezed his cock, which began a hearty salute in return. When she wiggled against him, he pulled his wife’s hand away with more than a little regret, before she became the dinner entrée.

  He pulled her chair out. “Why don’t we eat?”

  She pouted, but sat. Setting the basket on his chair, he lifted the lid. Delicious, spicy scents rolled around them on the breeze. Beth sniffed with appreciation.

  Chris nodded. “I may not remember how she kisses, but I know for sure Gina can cook.” The divided container held warm food on one side and cold on the other. A bottle of red wine, wrapped in a white cloth was tucked in one corner. He pulled it out, found a corkscrew near his plate, and popped the cork.

  Handing Beth a glass, he put the basket on the deck, sat, and raised his glass to hers. Then froze. Tongue-tied, he had no clue what to say, or even where to begin.

  She smiled and rescued him. “May we enjoy our journey together.”

  They toasted and he took a sip, watching her over the rim of his glass. Lovely, fragile, strong, lonely, adventurous—his wife was a beautiful dichotomy. An emotion, sudden and powerful, began to bloom, one he hadn’t expected to feel so soon, or even in the near future. He pushed it away, buried it where it belonged.

  “Thank you for marrying me.” He took another sip of the rich wine, mortified at how desperate the words sounded. Yes, he was glad, but hadn’t he done her a favor, too? They’d agreed to a symbiotic arrangemen
t. At least in the beginning, that’s all either of them should expect. He’d never kidded himself it would be anything more than that.

  Beth held his gaze for long moments. Her hair whipped around her face in the warm wind, but she ignored it. Finally, she said, “You know, I told you why I agreed to this arrangement. What about you, Chris? Why are you here?”

  He shifted in the chair. Baring his soul deserved ample fortification, so he downed his wine and refilled the glass. He raised the bottle. “More?”

  “No, I’m not letting you get me drunk. Unlike Gina, I want to remember kissing you.” And didn’t his cock think that was a great idea. She added, “Quit stalling.”

  Goodbye, fragile Beth. Right then, she was pure, determined woman.

  Toying with the stem of the goblet, he cleared his throat. Jesus, he’d rather be in front of a grand jury than talk about this. “It’s simple. I want what you do. Marriage, family, to share my life with someone….”

  “Really? You’re educated, you have a job, and you seem pretty bright. You’re not too hard on the eyes, and you’re good in bed.” Her mouth twitched. “It can’t be that hard to find a date, let alone a wife. So, why would you ever agree to this?”

  Fuck. Here we go. Laying the past out for scrutiny sucked, but he’d demanded honesty from her and she’d given it.

  “I was supposed to get married. But I got left at the altar.” He scrubbed a hand over his hot face. “Twice.”

  Beth started. “What? By the same woman?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” The truth no longer hurt, but the bitter pill of reality still went down hard. “And after the second rejection, I vowed I’d never put myself or my family and friends through that again. I didn’t want or need to get married. And if that meant I’d never have a family of my own, then so be it.”

  Her eyes misted during his explanation. She understands. If anyone understood the despair, thinking the future held nothing but lonely emptiness, it was her.