Drew + Fable Forever (One Week Girlfriend #3.5)(7)

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.

“I still can’t believe we did it.” I turn my head to watch him as he rears his head back, waiting for his reaction, needing to see it. I shade my eyes against the too bright sun, studying his handsome face. I can’t stop thinking about last night. The wedding. The dinner we ate afterward, though I barely remember how it tasted—I’d been too enraptured with my husband and the importance of what we’d done.

How long I took to prepare for him, and none of that mattered because he attacked me anyway, which I loved. It was as if he couldn’t control himself. I like knowing that I make him feel so out of control. And I love knowing that he’s my husband now.

It all feels so surreal.

He leans back in the sand, his arm sliding off my shoulders, and I immediately miss his touch. “Oh, I can believe we did it. I’ve wanted to do this for a while now. Just been waiting for you to give me the go-ahead.”

“You wanted to do what?” Okay, I’m confused, but maybe it’s the sun or this hot specimen of a man who’s my husband, who knows? As I turn to fully look at him, my mouth goes dry at the sight before me.

Drew all sprawled on the warm sand, leaning back on his elbows, wearing low-riding swim trunks and nothing else, all those beautiful muscles on display. My gaze roves over him hungrily, remembering the hot, intense honeymoon sex we had last night and into this morning. His longish dark hair flutters and waves with the gentle breeze that washes over us, and his eyes are covered by yet another pair of expensive sunglasses he’ll probably lose. Because he’s so good at that, losing things.

Except for me. He couldn’t lose me if he tried.

“Make you mine in every sense of the word.” He smiles and I smile in return, my body trembling at his words. He sounds so serious despite the easygoing smile, and it doesn’t help that I can’t see his eyes. They’re probably the most expressive feature on his face. I do love it when he gets possessive, though. I might sound like a freak, but it arouses me like nothing else.

Well, everything Drew does arouses me. He can stand at the sink and brush his teeth in the morning and I want to jump him.

Of course I want to jump him. Because in the morning when he’s brushing his teeth, he’s usually standing there either in just his boxer briefs or a pair of sweats that hang so low on his hips I swear I can almost see everything the boy has to offer.

And oh my, can he offer a lot.

Shaking my head, I drop my gaze, hoping he can’t read my mind. I have it so bad for my husband it’s crazy.

“I like the way you say that,” I admit, turning away from him so he can’t see my face, my flushed-with-embarrassment cheeks. All this thinking of Drew brushing his teeth and everything else that comes with it is making me hot. For him. “That I’m yours.”

“You are,” he says simply. “And I’m yours, too. Now we’re legally together. Nothing can tear us apart.”

“Together.” I dip my index finger into the sand and draw a giant heart, then write D + F in the center. Like the matching tattoos we share on the inside of our wrists.

He’s suddenly there, right beside me, pushing me so I have no choice but to lie on the sand. Drew comes over me, his face in mine, his body pressing me deeper into the warm yet damp sand. “Forever,” he whispers just before he kisses me, so deeply I have to wrap my arm around his neck and grip his hair for fear I’ll melt into nothing because of his fiery lips and persuasive tongue.

“Let’s go back to the room,” I murmur against his mouth long minutes later. The beach is fairly abandoned since it’s morning, but there are a few people wandering by. I wonder if they can see us. What will it be like when people actually recognize him one day? That’s going to happen. I know it and so does he, and we’re trying to prepare, but how can you fully prepare for the unknown? How are we going to deal with it?