After The One (The One Series Duet)

by Danielle Allen

  I sighed dreamily and my eyes fluttered open as the song came to an end. My breathing hitched as I lifted my head to find Julian staring at me. It wasn’t the fact that he was looking at me that gripped my heart and stole my breath away. It was the way he was looking at me—like I was the only one in the room.

  “Thank you,” Julian murmured, letting his forehead drop against mine. One hand remained planted at the small of my back while the other came up to stroke my cheek.

  The air between us was thick. The longer I allowed myself to drown in his grey eyes, the harder it was for me to breathe.

  I tilted my head slightly, moving the tip of my nose against his. My voice cracked. “For what?”

  “For changing my life.” He pressed his full lips against mine as he slowly turned us in a small circle. “For being my wife.”

  My heartrate sped up and my eyes shut as my lips found his again. Tightening my arms around his neck, my body melted and molded into him.

  “I love you,” I breathed between kisses as my lips moved against his.

  He slipped the hand that was on my cheek to the back of my neck and deepened the kiss. I moaned into his mouth as I felt his tongue gently nudge mine. Everything faded and nothing else existed except for the two of us. I was lost in the feel of him.

  It wasn’t the fact that Chrisette Michele’s voice softly floated over the beat promising that we’d be together forever times two. It wasn’t the fact that we were swaying to the music as a spotlight cascaded on us. It wasn’t even the fact that we had promised to love and cherish each other for the rest of our lives in front of family, friends, associates, colleagues, and on a live feed being filmed for the rest of America. It was the fact that the most important thing in the world to me at that exact moment was the safety I felt in his arms, the warmth I felt in his touch, the love I saw in his eyes and the softness in which his voice breathed the word ‘wife’ to me.

  I didn’t think love had a taste, but it did. In each decadent parting of my lips with his tongue, I tasted his love for me. I tasted want and desire, but more than that, I tasted adoration and reverence. In each of his worshipful kisses, I was able to savor the sweetness of love and the promise of our future.

  Pulling away, I licked my lips as the final chords of the song reverberated through the decked out ballroom. Replacing the beautiful harmonies

  “Mrs. Winters…” The carnal grit in his voice was a dangerous mix of hunger and want. “Are you ready to go home?”

  Smiling, I opened my eyes slowly.

  Tapping his chest right over his heart with my manicured finger, I traced a heart against the lapel of his tuxedo. “I’m already home.” I looked up at him, my light brown eyes boring into his grey ones. “When I’m with you, I’m home.”

  Julian had stopped moving. Even though a different song was playing and Peri Moore was speaking into the microphone, I couldn’t focus on anything, but his eyes. I flattened my hand against his chest and it rose and fell in time with mine. His heart thudded in his chest which only caused a stinging behind my eyes.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “I will never get tired of hearing you say that.”

  “I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

  “Hello!” Bryce yelled through speakers, causing a feverish murmur to rip through the crowd and bursting the romantic bubble I was content in.

  The attention of everyone in the room shifted from us bathed in spotlight in the middle of the dance floor to Bryce as he moved across the stage.

  Unraveling myself from Julian, I looked around in surprise. Julian and I were supposed to cut the cake after our dance and we were explicitly clear with Peri Moore and Robert Brady that we didn’t want any surprises or impromptu speeches. We wanted to knock out our obligations with The One early so we could enjoy the rest of the evening with our friends and family. And even though I liked Bryce, at the end of the day, he worked for Robert Brady and The One.

  Trying to be discreet, I turned my body into Julian’s. “What is this?” I whispered against Julian’s jawline. “He didn’t mention this to you during dinner, did he?”

  Julian shook his head.

  After the ceremony and cocktail hour, everyone—guests and production staff—enjoyed a gourmet dinner to kick off the reception. Because we wanted to steal some time to ourselves for our first dance, Peri Moore had Julian’s intern Andre, aka DJ Dre, play our first dance song early, catching everyone off guard. The camera and crew members were also eating and they weren’t quick enough to get microphones on us before we began.

  My eyebrows shot up. “Is this payback for our dance?”

  “I have no idea.” He paused, scanning the room before he looked down into my eyes. “No, no, no. Bryce wouldn’t do us like that. It’ll be fine. It’s Bryce,” Julian assured me, reading my thoughts. His hands skated down the bare skin of my arms before he enveloped me in an embrace.

  Just before I closed my eyes, I saw Robert marching over to where we were in the center of the ballroom. He was flanked by two overzealous producers and while the rest of the crowd directed their attention to Bryce, I nuzzled into Julian’s chest. I didn’t want to deal with the only angry man in the room.

  “Then again, it sounds like Bryce is winging it up there and Robert is heading straight toward us…” Julian muttered under his breath.

  I wasn’t able to turn around fast enough before I heard Robert Brady barking orders.

  “We’re getting mics on you now! Out of respect for your special day, I didn’t interrupt your little dance. But don’t try that shit again. It’s time to get this show on the road,” Robert hissed, moving his hands emphatically.

  The producers quickly attached microphones to our attire in discreet locations as Bryce thanked everyone for being part of The One experience.

  “What is this? Is this your doing?” Julian asked Robert, gesturing to Bryce on stage. “We didn’t authorize this.”

  Robert gave one curt nod of his head at the producer who was still standing beside Julian. The younger man’s eyes widened before he got the message and swiftly left the area.

  The small battery pack that was slipped into the back of the corseted bodice of my dress irritated my skin. The producer jammed it between the laces holding the corset together. She whispered into a walkie-talkie before scurrying away behind the male producer who’d just secured Julian’s microphone.

  As soon as they were well out of earshot, Robert took a step closer. “Of course it was my doing,” Robert spat, with a hint of twisted pleasure weaved into his tone. He looked around before lowering his voice. “Per the contract, you wanted some private time, I gave you private time during dinner. But I’m sure you both knew you were supposed to get your microphones on before the first dance. It’s mighty convenient that your event planner decided to give my guys the runaround so I had to come in from the production trailer to deal with this unauthorized bullshit myself. America doesn’t just want to see the show. They want to hear it too! Don’t try that again.”

  I bit the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. I drew my eyebrows together feigning surprise. “What? Why would—?”

  Robert narrowed his eyes and his features darkened. “Cut the shit,” he snapped.

  “Watch how you talk to my wife,” Julian warned.

  My head whipped toward him.

  Well damn.

  My mouth went dry and my chest heaved as I stared at my husband. The protective way he shut Robert down was sexy. But hearing him call me his wife was about to bring me to orgasm in the middle of the dance floor. I licked my lips as I gawked at the man that I married twice in one day.

  “And you need to watch how you talk to me, Julian.”

  Hearing the sharpness of Robert’s response snapped me out of my lustful gaze. I turned my head back to Robert. My eyes landed on his curled upper lip as he snarled. I cocked my head to the side.

  Was the tone and the snarl necessary?

  I put my hand on my hips. “Where in the c
ontract does it say we need to account for and accommodate your lack of preparedness? Because if I’m remembering correctly, and we both know that I am, the language expressly states that for all major reception moments, cameras needed to be present.” I lifted my shoulders smugly. “And the cameras were present.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julian watching me, seemingly impressed.

  The three of us stood in silence as Bryce’s charismatic voice echoed through the room.

  “…the perfect temperature for a wedding today. Am I right?” Bryce joked on stage.

  With the deep shade of crimson illuminating his face, it was clear that Robert was pissed.

  “Lucky for you,” Robert growled. “There was an argument breaking out in the hallway so while you two were selling this bullshit in here without audio, I was selling the new season out there.” He paused and as if someone flipped a switch, Robert laughed to himself, slapping Julian’s arm. “And now that your mics are on, we can catch more of those sweet nothings the audience goes crazy for. Because we’re giving the people what they want, you know, per the contract.”

  “Per the contract, we’re only wearing these for an hour,” Julian responded, his tone void of amusement.

  The contract stated that we had to allow The One to film for an hour as long as they were able to capture the major reception moments—the first dance, cake cutting, and bouquet and garter tosses.

  “Fifty-nine minutes,” I corrected, biting my lower lip trying not to smile.

  Julian reached for my hand, pulling me into him. He chuckled, planting a kiss against my forehead. “Tick tock.”

  Even though Robert smiled, he glowered at us as he backed away. Without a word, he turned on his heel and signaled to someone. Almost instantly, Bryce wrapped up his monologue to animated applause.

  “Now if you would turn your attention to the bride and groom…” Bryce directed.

  “What the hell?” I muttered through the clenched teeth of a fake smile. My fingers dug into the material of Julian’s tuxedo jacket as I felt everyone’s eyes, and every camera in the room, on us. “Ummm…”

  Julian pulled me in tighter. “Yeah, I have no idea.”

  We both stood there looking clueless for about thirty seconds. “I thought we were going to cut the—”

  My sentence was interrupted by DJ Dre, looping the repetitive chorus of Rihanna’s “Birthday Cake.”

  The “oohs” and “ahhs” from the crowd erupted over the hard-hitting beat as they parted. A man pushing our exquisite wedding cake was followed closely by our wedding planner. My body relaxed as soon as I saw her beaming face.

  She thought of everything!

  I didn’t want to say what I was thinking since I had a microphone on, but when I looked up at Julian, he smiled back at me knowingly.

  “I love you,” I whispered giddily.

  “I love you, too.”

  The cake was rolled to the middle of the dance floor so it could bathe in the spotlight with us. After the men and women operating the cameras were in place, the crowd closed in. The radius between us and the four hundred guests of mostly people I didn’t know was about five feet. I searched the crowd until I saw my parents, Julian’s parents and our actual close friends lining the perimeter. I smiled and gave them an excited wave.

  “That came out better than I thought,” Julian declared as he stared at the five-tier cake in front of us.

  The famed L.A. bakery, Sweet Tooth, had exceeded our expectations when they designed our wedding cake masterpiece. The square layers of cake covered in white fondant gave it the sleek appearance. The edible sugar musical notes were added to make the traditional cake more unique.

  I nodded, looking around as everyone seemed to be snapping pictures of the cake. “It’s gorgeous and it seems to be a big hit.”

  I looked up toward our family and friends to catch their reaction only to notice the tail end of them being ushered behind Tori and a few really pretty women that I knew starred in the show, Hot Hollywood Housewives.

  My head swiveled around and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Where did our family go?

  Julian picked up the knife to cut the cake and paused, seeming to notice the look on my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Our family.” I only managed to get out two words as I felt the gentle swell of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

  “They’re right over…” His sentence trailed off and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked to the section of the crowd where our loved ones were. “They were just over there.”

  “Cut the cake,” the event planner urged us with a stage whisper.

  I still craned my neck to find our loved ones to no avail.

  “Where do you think they are?” I asked quietly, ignoring the planner.

  “I don’t know.” His brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. “They wouldn’t have missed this.”

  “Smile,” a producer hissed from one side of the cameraman.

  “Cut the cake,” the event planner repeated with a little more urgency from the other side of the cameraman.

  Julian and I shared a look before I placed my hand over his as he guided the knife through the bottom layer of the cake.

  Everyone cheered as we cut into the rich white dessert with the lemon buttercream filling. The slice was placed on a monogrammed plate and we paused, allowing the camera to capture the image. When our eyes locked, my heart thumped.

  I forgot that we were in front of a bunch of people. I forgot that we were on camera. I forgot that our family and friends had disappeared. I forgot about everything except for the man that looked at me as if I were the only woman in the world.

  My lips parted and I let out a breath. Julian’s eyes seemed to hone in on my mouth so I licked my lips.

  “Zoe…” The strained tone in which my name rolled off of his tongue made my body react.

  I closed my eyes briefly as I pressed my thighs together to dull the ache that he created with just my name.

  Shit, I swore internally as I tried to think of places to which we could sneak off without the cameras. He’d just stoked a fire in me that was not going out anytime soon. This is going to be the longest fifty minutes of my life.

  Julian nodded slowly as if he could read my thoughts. I grinned.

  “Less than an hour and then you’re mine,” Julian mentioned sexily. He looked around and then smirked.

  It wasn’t until he broke eye contact that everything came rushing into focus—the music, the crowd, the cake.

  I glanced over at the event planner whose eyes were as big as saucers. She tapped at her watch and mouthed the word cake.

  With a smile tugging at the corner of my lips, I refocused on the task at hand. I reached onto the plate and broke off a piece of cake.

  After breaking his piece and holding it between his thumb and forefinger, Julian licked his lips and lifted his eyebrows. “Open wide!”

  I bit my lip to stifle the laughter that bubbled up inside of me. My shoulders trembled unable to keep it together. “I’m not even going there,” I commented with a suppressed giggle.

  There was a mischievous glint in his grey eyes as he brought the cake closer to my mouth. “Yes, you will.”

  All of the breath left my body. Every single one of my nerve endings were on fire.

  Julian chuckled as we fed each other pieces of the mouthwatering cake. The crowd cheered, the music thumped through the speakers, and I could almost feel the wedding planner and producer breathe a sigh of relief as if to say “finally.”

  “Mmmm,” I moaned, my eyes involuntarily closing as the flavor coated my mouth. I swallowed. “That is amazing.”

  When I opened my eyes, Julian was staring at me as he licked the icing off of his forefinger. Before the wedding planner was able to push the cart away, Julian reached for the cake and dragged his finger across the decadent filling.

  “Single ladies? Single ladies? Where are all of my single ladies?” DJ Dre yelled as the mu
sic switched to an up-tempo, hard-hitting beat of a song that celebrated female empowerment.

  I was impressed that Andre didn’t immediately play Beyoncé’s hit after that intro. When I opened my mouth to make that comment, I was distracted by the icing on Julian’s finger and the look he was giving me.

  Even though there was a flurry of movement and the spacious event space was filled with noise, Julian held me frozen in place with his stare. My heart raced.

  Without a word, he lifted his finger and trailed the lemon buttercream filling across my bottom lip. With his other hand, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and tilted my head back. The greys of his eyes were darkened and I could both see and feel his desire for me.

  There was a distinct throbbing between my thighs as I struggled to breathe normally.

  As he moved his face toward mine, I was intoxicated. My eyes shut just as he brought his mouth against mine. He nibbled and sucked my bottom lip and ran his tongue against the sugary lemon filling.

  I felt it everywhere.

  Kissing him back, I wrapped my arms around him, melting into his hard body. Drunk off of desire, I opened my eyes woozily as I felt him press his forehead against mine. Soft puffs of air breezed over my skin as we stood in silence.

  “Lovebirds, are you ready?” DJ Dre screamed into the microphone.

  Julian waved his hand in the air dismissively as he kept staring into my eyes.

  I put my hands on the side of his face. “I love you,” I giggled.

  He grabbed one of my hands from his cheek and kissed the inside of it before reciting Pablo Neruda’s Sonnet XVII.

  From deep in my gut, a flurry of butterflies turned into bats. He’d given me butterflies before, but nothing ever like that.

  “Oh!” I gasped. My hand flew to my stomach and my eyes widened. “I think the—” I cleared my throat. “I think the poem was really moving.”

  “You know I didn’t write that one, right?” Julian joked before seeming to understand what I was saying. “Oh, oh, oh shit!”

  I nodded excitedly.