Forever.
Chapter Two
Fable
Sometimes, when I least expect it, I’m overcome with gratitude. How thankful I am that this beautiful, gentle, sexy man walked into my life so unexpectedly. It still feels like yesterday that I found him waiting outside for me at La Salle’s, the wind cold, his expression desperate. I hated him on sight. I didn’t care if he was tall and broad and gorgeous. He just wanted to use me.
They all wanted to use me. And like the hopeless girl that I was, I let them.
When Drew asked me to be his fake girlfriend, I was so sure he was like the rest of them. Using me just for his own gain. I also thought he was insane. I told him no. Somehow, I let him buy me anyway. I can still feel shame over that, though it’s stupid. He loves me. I know he does. I can’t get enough of him and he can’t seem to get enough of me.
During that horrible, scary, exhilarating, life-changing week, I forced him to open up to me and I probably shouldn’t have done that …
But I did. I don’t regret it, either. I found out things I suspected but didn’t want to realize. He was so closed off, such a mystery to me. I had to know, though. I had to find out what bothered him. I knew something was suspicious between him and his stepmother, and when she dropped that bomb that his dead sister may have been his daughter …
Well. I was too far in by that moment. I’d slept with him. I was falling in love with him. For once in my life, I wanted to be all in with a guy. I wanted to be there for him, and I was.
Then he left. And nearly broke me.
We came together, he ran away, and then we faced our fears. Together. When you struggle for something so good, so right, you cherish it more. You hold it close, nurture it, protect it, make sure you never, ever let your guard down. That’s how I feel about my almost husband.
For Drew and me, it’s always been about the together. No matter what, it’s me and him.
Forever.
The sun melts into the Pacific, casting its gold-tinged-with-pink glow upon the shimmering deep-blue water. Clouds gather, gray and blue backlit with orange, a dazzling sunset the likes of which I’ve never seen. It’s beautiful. I want to stare at it, get lost in all the colors and textures and scents and sounds, but I can’t. I’m kinda busy right now.
As in, the minister is saying words of love and devotion and marriage and my hands are in Drew’s. He’s watching me, that secret smile on his face, his too blue eyes filled with so much love for me I want to cry.
I hold it in, though, because I’m tough. We’ve had plenty of moments in our lives, both together and apart, to cry over and this is definitely not one of them. We’re supposed to be happy. No tears allowed, right? Drew squeezes my hands, as if he knows I’m thinking about crying and trying my hardest not to, and I offer him a tremulous smile.
We’re alone on Makena Beach on the south side of the island, our only witness the wife of the man officiating our wedding ceremony. Drew’s face is cast in a rosy golden hue; his dark brown hair flutters across his forehead, ruffled by the gentle breeze that washes over us. He’s wearing khaki pants that he’s rolled up a couple of times and a white button-down shirt, and his feet are bare. Looking casual and beautiful and so painfully handsome, I swear just looking at him makes my eyes hurt.
The waves crash gently on the shore. There’s sand in my toes and the hem of my long, white strapless dress is damp, we’re standing so close to the water’s edge.
But I don’t care. I’m too caught up in this moment, too caught up in this man standing before me. Drew repeats the vows the minister says and I press my lips together as I listen to his familiar, deep voice, my vision blurred by tears. I can’t stop them. When it’s my turn to repeat those same sacred vows, my voice wavers, the words thick in my throat, and I see the shimmer of tears in Drew’s eyes, too.
Oh God, we’re a couple of total saps, but I don’t care. We’re in love, damn it. We’ve fought too hard and struggled for too long and we’re reveling in the moment. If we want to cry over our sacred vows to each other, over this, the most important day of our lives, then it’s our prerogative.
Drew’s intense gaze never leaves me as he entwines his fingers tightly with mine, just as tightly entwined as our hearts are. I can’t believe this moment is finally happening. We make promises of love and devotion, both with our words and our hearts and minds. When prompted, I whisper “I do” in my still wavering voice, and Drew smiles at me, squeezing my hands. The two of us, we’re destiny. Fate. Kismet. Whatever you want to call it.
The smile that breaks out across his face when I say those two words steals my breath. My heart. My soul. All of me irrevocably now belongs to him. He slips a band on my finger, the diamonds that surround it so big that I audibly gasp. I hadn’t expected this and I send him a questioning look, but he only smirks at me in return.
My man is constantly full of surprises.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I didn’t want you to ever forget it.”
“With diamonds this big, I never will,” I whisper back, making the minister laugh.
Minutes later, when Drew whispers those same two words that mean he now belongs to me, I slide the platinum band I picked out for him a few days ago onto his ring finger, solidifying our relationship. My heart fills to bursting.
It’s a moment I’ll never forget. Etched into my memory for all time. The sunset, the beach, the look in my husband’s eyes, the way he said he loved me.
We’re freaking married now. My legal name is Fable Callahan. Drew Callahan is my husband.
Wild, huh? I am one lucky, lucky girl.
And I know it.
Drew
It probably sounds dumb, but this night with Fable, our first night together as a married couple, has more significance than any other night I’ve been with her. And we’ve had some major moments. There was that first night in Carmel when she finally broke down all my walls and we had sex. The night when I went to her place in the pouring rain and begged her to let me inside.
The night when we were finally together again after being apart for a couple of months. Until now, that night meant the most to me by far. To lose her and then get her back …
I could go on and on. There’s no turning back now. We’re together. She’s mine and I’m hers, and she’s going absolutely nowhere.
She’s doing whatever preparation a bride does for her groom at this very second, locked away in the bathroom. She’s been in there for almost an hour and I know she took a shower; I heard the water running. I paced the hotel suite, stood out on the lanai checking out the view, finally deciding fuck it when she was taking so damn long.
Now I’m lounging in bed completely naked and waiting for my wife. I’m impatient, eager to get her beneath me. We’ve been so busy, me with training camp and then both of us in full-on preparation mode when we decided to do this wedding thing.
Practice has been tough. We’ve both been stressed. Our life keeps changing and I’m blown away by it all. I think she is, too. We tend to fall into bed in an exhausted heap together, going right to sleep. Or we have hurried sex—not that it’s bad, but I haven’t necessarily felt connected to Fable lately.
I hope to rectify that.
Finally, the door opens and she walks out, a fucking vision in white silk and lace. The nightgown is long and clings to her shape, thin straps cross her shoulders, and I swear the entire front is made of nothing but sheer lace. As in, I can clearly see her nipples.
I almost choke on my tongue just looking at her.
“What do you think?” She sounds nervous as she does a little twirl, revealing the back of the gown, and holy fuck, I’m done for. Her entire back is exposed, it dips so low, almost to her ass, and my fingers itch to touch her.
“Come here and I’ll show you exactly what I think,” I say when I finally find my scratchy voice.
A smile teases the corners of her lips and she comes to me, the scent of her filling my head, driving me wild. Her hair is down a
nd has a slight wave to it, her face scrubbed free of makeup with cheeks pink from the sun. Her skin practically glows under the faint light from the nearby lamp and I reach out, relief and love and lust flooding my veins when she curls her hand in mine.
“Where did you get it?” She knows exactly what I’m talking about.
She shrugs those pretty, slim shoulders I want to kiss. “Jen took me shopping before we left.”
Fable had gone back home for a few days to spend time with Owen before we flew out. The kid was pissed, complaining that he wanted to go to Hawaii. Not that he was mad at us, but he just … wanted to go to Hawaii. “Well, wherever she took you, I approve.”
She laughs, the sound soft and so deliciously Fable, my skin warms. “I wanted to look pretty for you tonight.”
“You look pretty for me every day and night,” I say automatically because it’s true. Not only is she beautiful on the inside, but she’s fucking gorgeous on the outside. I see the heads that turn when I show up anywhere with Fable beside me. She barely looks at them. Her eyes are only on me.
“You are too sweet.” She dips down and gives me a kiss, but I don’t close my eyes. No, my gaze is locked on her chest, the way the front of her nightgown gapes with the movement, and I catch a glimpse of bare skin and tempting pink nipples.
“Are you checking me out?” she murmurs against my lips just before she pulls away.
“Wearing something like that, you knew this was going to happen.” I give her hand a tug and yank her down so she’s sprawled across me, nothing but hot, smooth skin and silk and lace fabric. “And wait until you see what I’m wearing.”
She wiggles against me, making my cock rock hard, and I clamp my arm around her waist, holding her still. Carefully I roll her over so she’s on her back, her long blond hair splayed all over the pillow, her green gaze soft as she stares up at me. I kick the covers off and crawl on top of her, kissing her before she can say a word, my tongue tangling with hers for long, consuming minutes until I finally come up for air.
“You’re wearing nothing,” she says breathlessly, and I chuckle.
“I wanted to look special just for you,” I return, my mouth at her neck, licking and nibbling and kissing her fragrant skin.
“Now you’re just making fun.” She swats my shoulder, her voice pouty.
“I would never make fun of my bride on our wedding night.” I lift up so I can look at her, wanting her to see just how sincere I am. “Especially when she looks like this.”
“Aw.” She touches my cheek, her fingers drifting across my skin. “I love it when you say things like that.”
“Well, be prepared, wife of mine. I plan on saying all sorts of corny things to you all night long. And for the rest of your life.” I toy with the thin strap on her shoulder, slipping my fingers beneath it to caress her bare skin. A shiver moves through her, goose bumps scatter across her shoulder, and slowly, I push the sliver of fabric off. The little strap falls easily, sliding down her arm, and I drop kisses along first one bare shoulder, then the other, cupping her breasts as I play with her nipples with my thumbs beneath the thin lace.
“Drew,” she murmurs, her hands immediately going into my hair as she guides me, holding me to her chest. “Please. I’ve waited too long. I want you inside me.”
“Waited too long?” I lick at a nipple over the lace, wetting the fabric and her flesh. She gives a little twitch, a gasp escaping her, and I smile. “We’ve only just begun.”
“It’s been weeks since we’ve been together like this. I don’t want to wait any longer,” she pleads breathlessly. Desperately.
“Don’t rush me.” I want to take my time but I’m as eager as she sounds. Without thought I’m gathering the hem of her nightgown in my fist, pulling the smooth fabric up her legs, revealing that she doesn’t have a stitch on beneath the silk. Everything inside of me goes hot and achy. I’m desperate to unleash on her, show her that she belongs only to me. “I think you need to wear this again tomorrow,” I say, my teeth gritted, my entire body shaking with need.
“Why?” She gasps when I kiss her hip, one thigh, then the other. I feel her tremble beneath my lips and I briefly close my eyes, inhale the musky, sweet scent of her. There are so many things I want to do to her but I can’t focus. I’m filled with the need to plunge deep inside her and never stop.
Ah, shit. I realize she’s waiting for an answer and all I can do is think about how fast I can get inside her.
“Um, because I want to savor you in this pretty gown but I can’t. Not right now.” I’m pulling it off her and she lifts her arms above her head so I can tug it free, getting her as naked as I am. “You’re right. We can linger tomorrow, huh?”
“I suppose we can.” Laughter escapes her as she settles her head back on the stack of pillows, her legs spreading to accommodate me between them. “If you want.”
“Oh, I definitely want. We can linger tomorrow. Even later tonight.” Leaning in, I lick one bare, perfect nipple. “Tomorrow morning.” Then I lick the other. “Whenever, wherever, you’ve got me, baby. I’m all yours.”
And that’s a fucking promise, I think when I push inside her welcoming body, losing myself inside her just like that. She’s hot and wet and tight, clamping so perfectly around my throbbing cock, and I know one thrust would send me straight into oblivion. It’s so easy with Fable. So easy it used to scare me. She’s so accepting, so loving, so sweet and protective and fierce and blunt and beautiful, and all mine. I’m filled with the urge to possess her. Mark her and fuck her and make her realize she will never belong to any other man.
Only me.
I thrust deep and hard, not being cautious or gentle, and she seems to want it that way too. Her breathless words encourage me, the way her eyes glow as she stares, watching me in wonder. Her fingernails cut into the skin on my ass as she pushes me deeper, as deep as I can get …
Fuck. I’m done for. Ruined for any other woman. But that already happened years ago, when I first laid eyes on her. I knew then, I had a weird feeling that this girl would change my life.
She has. In the best way possible, too.
“I love you,” she whispers against my shoulder as I ram deep inside her. Her slender legs are wound around my hips and she’s clinging to me as if she never wants to let me go.
“I love you, too, baby.” I feel like I could say it again and again and it wouldn’t be enough. I want to give her everything she could ever wish for. I want to make all of her dreams come true. I want no one to hurt her ever, least of all me. I want our life together to be perfect.
Wishful thinking, I know, but a man can hope.
She pushes at my shoulders and I lift up, my hands braced on either side of her head so I can look at her. She smiles up at me, cupping my cheek with her hand, and I turn my head, press a soft, damp kiss to her palm. “I don’t ever want to forget this night,” Fable whispers. “The night we first made love as husband and wife.”
Aw damn, she says that and makes me feel guilty for taking her like a brutal animal. I swallow hard, wanting to make it right for her. “You want me to slow down?” I ask.
“No way.” The wicked smile that crosses her face makes me flash one at her in return. “Don’t stop, husband. Please.”
That is all the encouragement I need. Lifting my hips, I push inside her to the hilt, feeling her arch beneath me, her breasts brushing against my chest. Our bodies are slick with sweat, the fever inside me seems to match the heat within her, and I reach between us, touching her clit, circling it, stroking her hot, soaked flesh, paying attention to her face because I know the look she gets right before she comes.
Her eyelids flutter, her swollen lips part on a silent moan, and I wait to hear her breath catch just before it happens. Right now she’s murmuring nonsense, her eyes are closed and she’s arching her head back, inviting me to kiss her neck, which I do. My fingers are coated with her wetness as I continue to stroke, and when I hear the telltale catch in her breath, I lift my head to
watch as she whispers my name once, twice, then again as her body starts to quake beneath mine.
My orgasm comes over me like an out-of-control wave, hard and fast and so completely unexpected I freeze above her, my own lips parted as I hang there for a long, agonizing second before it consumes me.
“Ah fuck,” I whisper harshly as I collapse on top of her, the aftershocks still coursing through my body, making me shiver. She skims her hands up and down my back, soothing me. Her touch feels so good I feel the urge to purr like a fucking cat, and if that isn’t the most ridiculous thought ever. I mean, fuck me. Purr like a cat?
I think sex with my new wife has just sent me into another realm entirely. One I will gladly revisit again and again.
Chapter Three
Fable
This morning, I feel pretty freaking amazing. Recharged and refreshed. The sun is shining on my mostly bared skin and I’m sitting on the private hotel beach, the sound of the surf buzzing in my ears, my husband beside me. I want him. No surprise since we’re on our honeymoon and all, but yeah. I’m ready to go back to our beautiful, spacious hotel suite, strip him naked, and push him onto the massive king-sized bed so I can touch and kiss him all over.
I wonder if he wants me like that, too. Or if he’s too tired. We went at it all night long. Like crazy teenagers full of lust and hormones. My body aches in places it hasn’t ached in forever. I had no idea my body could contort into such crazy positions.
A giggle escapes me and I clamp my hand over my mouth. He doesn’t need to know I’m sitting here reliving what happened last night and how badly I want a repeat performance.
Okay, maybe he should know I’m sitting here reliving it.
Forget worrying if he’s too tired. We’re married now. I can have my way with him whenever I want. And he’s always game.
Always.
He’s cozying up to me now, despite the intense heat pressing down upon us. The sun is so much stronger here, but I don’t let it bother me. I’m blissed out and on my honeymoon with my husband’s heavy arm slung around my shoulders, his nose nuzzling my cheek and making me giggle some more.