I watch the show with much enthusiasm but not because of a particularly spectacular performance. I’ve attended countless luaus. Although this one is quite good, it’s L’s performance I’m anxious to watch.
The audience members are led onto stage and L is the last one. That places her right in front of our table.
The people range in age from young children to, well, old as dirt. She’s definitely the hottest one in the bunch. I’d say that about her even if she weren’t my wife.
The hula dancers position themselves in front of the audience participants and demonstrate the first motion with their hands. Laurelyn mimics it slowly. Gracefully. Perfectly. They incorporate the hips next and I’m mesmerized by the way her body moves. I think she’s better than her demonstrators. The foot motion is last but I’m already lost in her sensual motions when she peeks over her shoulder at me as she turns. Her body language is unmistakable. She’s gonna let me f*ck her ever how I choose.
My wife is hotter than hell. Every man—and woman—here knows it, including this guy with the wife and four-point-five kids sitting across from me. He’s rarely taken his eyes off Laurelyn since the moment they were seated at the table. Surely, his wife has noticed, or maybe she hasn’t since he completely turned the childrearing over to her so he could ogle my wife’s tits.
This guy is blatantly staring and it is pissing me off, but I remind myself these aren’t swingers in a club. This guy’s here with his family but he should show respect toward his wife and mine.
I take a cleansing breath and exhale slowly. I’m letting this go because that’s what mature men do. And it’s what L would want from me.
When the show is over, Laurelyn returns to the table, changed back into her sundress. I rise and pull her chair out for her. “You didn’t get to keep the costume?”
“Sorry, McLachlan. They made me turn it in.” She leans over and lowers her voice. “But I’m sure we can come up with something for later.”
Oh yeah. I’m definitely buying this girl a hula costume for the bedroom.
Everyone at the table resumes watching the show—except the ogler. Laurelyn has no idea she’s being violated and I’ve had enough. No husband should have to watch some dick salivate at the sight of his wife’s chest. “They’re a great pair, aren’t they?”
He turns at the sound of my voice and goes pale when his wife asks, “What was that?” His eyes become large as he reaches for his drink. “I said they’re a great pair.” I point at the kids sitting to the left. “Your older boys get along well while the younger son entertains the baby.”
“Don’t let those two fool you,” she says as she gestures toward the rambunctious boys. “They’re a handful. They don’t always get along so well.”
The show ends and I waste no time in leading L toward the car ahead of the crowd. “Wait. I need to go to the restroom.”
I look at the horde around us and know they’re all headed in the same direction. “We’ll be at the house in ten minutes.”
She shakes her head. “My bladder will explode if we get stuck in traffic.”
“I really want to beat this crowd out of here so I can get you home and fulfill my promise.” She crosses her legs and makes a face to convey agony. “But not at the cost of an exploding body part.” I swat her bottom and she yelps. “Go—but hurry—because I have plans for you, Mrs. McLachlan.”
I’m waiting for L and see our dinner companions as they’re leaving. “Did you enjoy the show?” I call out as they walk by. I would never bring his indiscretion to his pregnant wife’s attention, but I can’t resist making the bastard squirm a little. He deserves that much.
He busies himself with one of the children, pretending to not hear me, so his wife answers. “We did. And you?”
“Loved it. It was Laurelyn’s first luau so she especially enjoyed it.”
“Laurelyn. What a pretty name. I’ll have to remember that one when this baby comes—that is, if it’s a girl. We didn’t find out.”
I hope it’s a boy. I don’t want this guy to have any lasting connection to my L. “I’ll tell my wife you said so. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“You too.”
Laurelyn walks up from the opposite direction of the restrooms and is wearing that mischievous grin I love so much. “What have you been up to?”
She holds up a large shopping bag. “I wanted souvenirs.”
We both know what’s in that bag so I can’t wait to get her back to the house to play dress-up. I grab her hand and lead her toward the area where our driver is to pick us up. “Where’s the fire?”
“In my pants.” That earns me a giggle from my bride but I’m not amused. I’m horny.
We’re out a little earlier than expected, so I’m grateful when I see our driver waiting at the curb in a black Town Car. “That’s us with the hazards on.” I’m used to Daniel’s reliability so it’s nice to have someone do a good job of filling his shoes. Our temporary driver keeps up this kind of service and he’ll earn a nice, fat bonus at the end of this assignment.
“What’s with the hurry?”
I wave the driver off and open the door for L. “I’ll tell you when we’re in the car.”
She’s a woman so she doesn’t get it. I know what’s in that bag and what she’s going to look like in it. She’s going to dance for me—only me—in a hula costume. Probably with nothing underneath. The anticipation has my cock hard as rock.
The car pulls away and I know I have at least ten minutes until we make it home, probably longer when you take traffic into account so I’m in pure misery. I bring her hand to my erection. “This is the hurry. I’m in agony because I want you under me so badly.”
She leans up and removes her cardigan before spreading it over my lap. “If we don’t do something about this, you won’t last a minute once we’re home. I don’t think either of us wants that.” She moves her hand up and slides it down the front of my pants. She grasps my cock in her hand and her thumb strokes the tip, spreading the moisture already there. “I think a little pregame show is in order so we savor the real thing later. Don’t you agree?”
“I couldn’t agree more.” I lean my head back against the seat while L pumps her hand up and down. “God, you’re the best wife ever.”
She leans over to whisper in my ear. “I wish there were a divider. Remember all those naughty things we did in the back of that limo?”
How could I forget? Those were some of the best moments of my life. I grab her head and bring her ear to my mouth. “Hell, yeah. I remember it all. Every touch. Every kiss.”
“You want to know what I remember?” She pumps faster as she talks, bringing me closer to the climax I need so badly. “You exploding inside my body, claiming me. You rubbed your cum into my skin, marking me like an animal, as if I was your possession for no other man to look at. And I loved it.”
That’s it. The first spasm begins, and then the others, followed by a full-on explosion. She doesn’t stop until her hand and my boxer briefs are a wet mess and then she kisses the side of my face. “That’s my boy.”
She takes her hand out of my pants and opens her handbag to fetch a tissue. She wipes her hand and then passes a clean one my way. “Tissue?”
“Thanks.” I take it from her and ease it down the front of my trousers. “Isn’t my girl the prepared one?”
“Looks like I’d better be in case I need to do that again.”
I can’t lie and say it won’t happen again, not with the way she makes me want her.
After we’re back at the house, she has me wait in the bedroom while she gets into character. She’s playful and it’s only one of the many things I love about L.
I’m lighting the last candle in the room when she calls out through the cracked bathroom door, “Close your eyes.”
She likes to do this—have me shut my eyes while she gets in place. It’s all about staging for her. “Yes, ma’am.”
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and hear the sound of a ukulele begin. It takes several seconds before I recognize the familiar tune of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” coming from her phone.
“Okay. You can look.”
I open my eyes and L is completely decked out in hula gear, feathers and all. Her top is a yellow bikini and it’s lovely against her freshly sun-kissed skin. Her skirt and headpiece are red, yellow, and black. Her long dark hair cascades over both shoulders and she’s the most beautiful hula girl I’ve ever seen. I imagined something similar but the reality is so much better.
She’s mimicking the dance she was taught at the luau, and the raging sexual urgency I expected isn’t there. This type of dance leaves me feeling much different than when she pole dances for me. There’s something surreal, and so very sweet, about the slow sway of her arms and hips to this particular rendition of the song. She looks so pure and deserving of much more than what I promised her I would do when I got her home tonight.
“This is the only Hawaiian song I had in my music library.” She doesn’t miss a beat in her rhythmic dance as she talks.
“Baby, it’s perfect.” And it truly is. It does something to me I can’t explain.
“Each move has so much depth, every dance its own story.” She makes coordinating flowing motions with her arms. “One of the girls backstage told me this is symbolic of a tree swaying in the breeze. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
She has no idea. “It certainly is.” No woman has ever made it look so lovely.
She dances another minute and then shrugs. “That’s it. I got nothing else. I wish I had more of a show for you.”
I put my arms out for her. “Come here.”
She walks to me and I wrap my arms around her waist to pull her close. I put the side of my face just below her chest and she cradles my head with her arms. I feel so much more for this woman than I ever thought possible. My love for her makes me ache deep in my chest. I never want to find out what it would feel like to lose her. “I love you so much, L. I don’t ever want to know the pain of not having you in my life.”
She leans back and tilts my face upward. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere. I’m here as long as you want me to stay.”
I feel like I’ll smother if I don’t have her. “Swear you’ll never leave me.”
She smiles and it feels like a rush of breath expanding my lungs in a moment of suffocation. “I will never leave you.”
“We’ve had a change of plans for christening our bed.” I reach for her phone and pass it to her. “Put that song on repeat and forget what I said earlier. I just want to make love to you—as slowly as you’ll let me.”
She smiles as she thumbs the phone’s screen. “I’m glad you like the song. I wasn’t sure about it.” She puts her phone aside and slides her hands over my shoulders.
“I love it.” It makes me feel good about us. “Dance with me.”
We sway in the middle of our bedroom. I’m in a completely different mindset than earlier. I know L likes my filthy mouth occasionally, but I use it far too frequently. I’m too much of a caveman with her at times. I should touch her gently and speak sweetly to her more often. She’s a treasure—my precious one—and I’d be wise to always treat her as such.
The song comes to an end before beginning again but I’m done with dancing. I take L’s hands in mine and lead her toward the bed. We stop when the backs of my legs hit the mattress and she unbuttons my white linen shirt before pushing it from my shoulders to the floor.
I take the floral wreath from her head and place it on the nightstand before I smooth her stray hairs. I twirl a lock of her long hair around my finger and marvel at how soft it is. “You are so beautiful.”
She blushes and drops her face. It’s still surprising to me how she can be so strong—even seek a career in the spotlight—yet she doesn’t know how to take compliments. I’m certain it’s because she never heard them while growing up. Or from that fool, Blake.
I place my hand under her chin and lift her face. “You better get used to hearing compliments because I plan on telling you often how gorgeous and loved you are.”
My eyes are closed and I’m listening to the sound of the waves. I’ve only been awake for a few minutes but the resonance is hypnotic so I’m drifting back into slumber when the bed shifts. My eyes pop open when the bed sheet slides down my body and I feel Jack Henry’s kisses against the bare skin of my lower back. “Are you awake?”
“I am now.”
He runs his hand over the valley where my spine curves inward. “Have I ever told you how much I love this dip?”
Is he kidding? Only like a bazillion times. “I believe you may have a time or two.”
His wet tongue glides upward and I bow reflexively, sending my bottom up from the bed, hitting him against his chest. My hair prickles as goosebumps spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. No matter how many times he does this, my body reacts the same. “Good grief. You’d think I’d become immune to that at some point.”
His palm slides up my thigh to my cheek and he rubs it in a circular motion. “Please don’t because I’ll never tire of seeing your body arch like that.”
I relax beneath his touch and his talented hands knead the muscles of my back as they make their way to my shoulders. I haven’t said anything but my body is rebelling after our frolic against the pole yesterday. A massage is very welcomed. “Mmm … you can stop doing that sometime next week.”
His fingers knead in circles and, again, my body erupts into chills. “So you like that, huh?”
“Mmm-hmm … just a little bit.”
“A massage is the least I can do since it’s my fault you’re sore.”
I lift my head from the pillow and peer over my shoulder at him. “I didn’t say I was sore.”
“You didn’t but your body speaks to me in other ways.”
Funny, I didn’t hear it say a thing. “How so?”
“It wasn’t your usual f*ck-me-harder moan I heard when I pushed your legs back.” He leans down to kiss the side of my neck. “Your legs were guarded so I knew you were probably feeling the aftermath of our pole excursion.” He kisses the side of my face. “I’m sure it’s worse today so we’re taking a break from sex so you can recuperate.”
I recall how gentle and loving Jack Henry was last night while we christened our honeymoon bed. His whole demeanor was different, but he was that way before, possibly discerning how sore I was. “Is that why you were so gentle with me?”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other reason?”
“I wanted to make love to you.” He presses his nose against my hair and inhales deeply. “I’m boorish with you too often. I should be gentler.”
I roll, forcing him to move from my back. “Listen up, McLachlan.” He moves to his side and we’re face to face. “I love your gentle side but I’m not a porcelain doll. I love it when you f*ck me hard.” I grab his chin and give it a squeeze. “Sometimes I need you to be a caveman. I crave it. Understand?”
He nods in agreement. “Yes, ma’am.”
“This is our honeymoon so there will be no breaks from sex. Got it?”
“No argument here.”
“Good.” I push him to his back and straddle him. I place my palms against his chest and rub his pectorals. “Life is so much easier when you see things my way.”
He licks his lips while reaching to palm my breasts. “You’re always very convincing, Mrs. McLachlan. I’m afraid I’ll never stand a chance with you.”
I lean down so we’re face to face again. “I’m afraid you’re right.” I suck his bottom lip into my mouth but let it go when his phone rings. It’s Margaret.
“Shit. I haven’t called Mum since we arrived. She’s going to rip me a new one.”
“No, she isn’t. I’ve got this.” I take his phone from the nightstand. “Good mornin’, Margaret.”
“Hello, darling. I’m sorry to call but my inconsiderate son hasn’t seen fit to phone his mum to let her know all is well.”
“I’m so sorry, Margaret. I’m afraid that’s all my fault.” I wink at Jack Henry. “I’ve been keeping him pretty busy.” I’m still straddling him so I move my hips against him.
“It’s okay. I totally understand but I needed to check in to make sure you were both all right.”
He rises and puts his mouth on one of my breasts, sucking my nipple into his mouth. “We’re having a great time. I love the house.”
“I knew you would.”
He moves to my other breast, rolling his tongue around the tip of its rosy pebble. “I can’t believe he bought it for me.”
“I can. He loves you so much, Laurelyn.”
I look at the top of his dark head and run my fingers through his hair. “I know, and I love him.”
“I know you do, honey. Any idea when you’ll be returning?”
I remember him telling me we were here as long as we liked. I’ve been having so much fun, it hasn’t crossed my mind to ask when we’ll go home. I guess it’s something we should discuss soon since Christmas is just around the corner.
“Just a minute, Margaret.” I press mute. “She wants to know when we’re coming home.”
He takes a piece of my hair between his fingers and playfully twirls it. “Tell her we’ll discuss it and let her know.”
I unmute the phone. “We haven’t decided yet but we’ll let you know after we talk it over.”
“Okay … as long as you’re back in time for Christmas. I know Jack Henry and how he thinks. I won’t have my new daughter spend her first McLachlan holiday away from the family.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.”
Jack Henry’s interest is piqued. He mouths, “Tell me what?”
I wave him off. “I’m sorry, Margaret. Jack Henry was distracting me. What was that?”
“I said I’ll let you go so you can go back to keeping your husband busy.”
I feel heat in my face. I’m certain I’m blushing at my mother-in-law’s reference. Nookie. She strongly encourages it. First, because she wanted me to snag Jack Henry as a husband and now because she probably wants me pregnant. She as good as said so at our wedding.
“All right. We’ll talk soon.”
“Have a wonderful time, darling. I love you and tell Jack Henry I love him.”
I tear up after I hear my mother-in-law tell me she loves me. She accepted me so easily. Her arms have been opened in my direction from the moment we met—something my own father couldn’t even do for me. “I will. We love you too.”
I lean over to place the phone on the nightstand and then return to sitting astride Jack Henry. “She says to tell you she loves you.”
“I owe you, sweet cheeks.” He lifts my hand to his lips for a kiss. “I’m certain you just saved me from a Margaret-style arse kicking.”
“We’re husband and wife. That means we protect one another.”
“I don’t know what I did before you.”
His words spark a reminder of what he did before me and a peculiar look comes over his face. We both know why, so I push it out of my mind and attempt a change of subject. “What day do you have in mind for going back?”
“I was thinking we might stay a couple of weeks.”
I don’t have to do the math in my head to realize that means staying here through the holidays. “And miss Christmas with your family?” Our family.
“I think it would be nice to spend our first Christmas as husband and wife here. I’ll go out and get us a tree. We can decorate it together—anyway you want.”
My heart plummets.
“What is it?”
I place my finger on his chest and before I know it, I’m tracing the infinity symbol. “This is my first chance at a normal Christmas with family. It’s something I’ve never had before. I guess I was excited about it, but we can stay here. Spending the holidays with just you and me will be special.”
He grabs my hand and kisses it. “I’m such an idiot. I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you want to spend our first Christmas with family.”
Being with Jack Henry is all I really need. “I want to make you happy. If being here together is what you have in mind, then that’s what we should do.”
“No. I’m making sure you have the Christmas you deserve. We’ll leave Saturday so we can be back before Christmas Eve. What do you think of that?”
“I think it’s perfect—just like you.”
The last six days have been the best of my life. I’m sad to leave Maui but I know Jack Henry and I can return whenever we choose, so the sadness is lessened.
It’s almost Christmas Eve by the time we land in Sydney, and I’m thankful Daniel is there waiting with the car. I’m so exhausted I practically fall inside. Jack Henry gathers me in his arms for the ride to our apartment and strokes his hand over my hair. “You see? This is what happens when you act like a sex-crazed maniac.”
I gather all my strength to respond. “Sorry, McLachlan. It won’t happen again.”
That’s the last thing I remember until we arrive at the apartment and Jack Henry attempts to gather me so he can carry me inside. “I’m awake. I can walk.”
“I’m carrying you over the threshold.”
“You did that already,” I argue.
“I did it at our vacation house. Now I’m doing it at our apartment and you should expect me to do it again when we go home to Avalon.”
I get out of the car and he scoops me up. “You’re being silly, but I’m too tired to argue with you, freak, so take me to bed.”
“Gladly.”
I shake my head. “Not for that, McLachlan. To rest. I’m exhausted.”
“You’ve been sleeping a lot the past few days. Do you feel okay?”
He’s right. I spent more time in bed than usual but it was our honeymoon. Aren’t we supposed to stay in bed far too much? “I’m fine … just exhausted by my husband’s robust sexual appetite this week.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Most certainly not.”
“Welcome home, sort of, my beautiful bride.” He chuckles as he brings me through the front door and sets me on the floor. He looks at me and then places his palm against my forehead. “You look pale. Sure you feel okay?”
“I’m really tired.”
He takes my hand. “Let’s get you to bed so you can catch up on your sleep. You’ll need to be energized for tomorrow.”
Shit! I have no idea how I’m going to get everything done. “But I don’t have time to sleep. There’s too much to do.” I take a look around the living room but don’t see any deliveries. I wonder where Daniel put them. “There should be a stash of Christmas packages here somewhere. They’ll need wrapping before tomorrow. That’ll take a lot of time because I make my own bows.”
“No, ma’am. There’s plenty of time for that. The first thing you’re going to do is sleep and you can get to those other things later if you feel well enough.”
I hate to admit it, but I’m too tired to argue with him. “Okay. Wake me in two hours.”
It’s dark when I open my eyes so that means Jack Henry didn’t wake me as I’d asked. Shit! I’ve slept the whole day.
My head is pounding and I have chills. My body feels as though it’s been run over by a semi … and then backed over again. I don’t feel well at all and I can admit it.
I sit on the edge of the bed and flip on the lamp. The dim light is painful and I’d like to turn it off and lie back down but I have an urgent need to use the bathroom. I rise to stand at the side of the bed but my head spins so I lower myself to sit again.
As if on cue, Jack Henry comes into the room. “You’re finally awake. You’ve been sleeping like the dead.” He walks over and again places his hand on my head. “You’re hot.”
“Glad you think so.”
“You’re considerably chipper for someone with a fever.”
I reach up and hold my head. “I’m dizzy but I really need to go to the bathroom.”
“I’ll help you.”
He helps me to stand and my head feels like I’ve been whirling in circles, so I shut my eyes tight. “Oh God. I may throw up.” And if I do, my bladder is going to explode. “Bathroom. Now.”
He takes my hands and guides me in the direction I need to go but I don’t open my eyes because I know I’ll spew if I do. I feel his hands guiding me back toward the toilet before he peels my panties down my legs. “Sit.”
We’ve done this before and he knows I don’t want him around for bodily functions. “Hand me the trash can and then get out.”
“I’m not leaving you alone on the verge of falling off the toilet into your own puke.”
Seriously? He wants to argue about this now? I’m miserable because my bladder is about to burst. I squeeze my eyes, although I’m covering them with my hand. “I can’t pee with you in here. You’ve got to go.”
“I’m not leaving if you’re unsteady.”
“Grr,” I groan. “I’m not going to fall but I may very well explode if you don’t get out of here.”
“You get one minute but you’d better call for me if you feel shaky. Got it?”
“Yes! Get out.” I sound hateful—I don’t mean to—but the wretchedness engulfing me is to blame.
The minute I hear the door shut, I’m finally able to relax enough to empty my bladder. And then it starts—the heaving, followed by the vomiting.
My eyes are still shut but I hear Jack Henry open the bathroom door. “You okay?” I heave loudly and I’m guessing he interprets that as a negative because he’s by my side with a cool, wet cloth to the back of my neck. “What do you think is wrong?”
“I don’t know. I guess some kind of virus since I have a fever.” Even after vomiting, I don’t dare open my eyes because I don’t want to get started again. “Damn. This happened fast. I don’t remember ever feeling so bad in all my life.”
I’m sickened further when I realize I won’t be able to attend Christmas with my new family. “No way I can go to your parents’ tomorrow.”
He rubs my back. “You don’t have to make that call right now, but I’ll bet you’ll probably feel much better by tomorrow.”
He isn’t getting it. “I have a fever, so that means I’m probably contagious. Even if I feel better, I can’t expose the family to whatever this is—especially the kids.”
“You’ve been really tired and now you’re throwing up and dizzy. Could you be … ?”
He doesn’t finish but I know what he’s thinking. I hate bursting his bubble. “Pregnancy doesn’t make you feverish.”
“Unless you’re pregnant and you have a virus.” Is he seriously wishing a pregnancy on top of this? I look up at him and my expression must convey my thoughts. “Don’t look at me like that. You were right there with me on that bathroom counter the night before the wedding. It could’ve happened. Plus, it’s not like we’ve been incredibly consistent in the birth control department lately.”
I want to ask whose fault that is but I keep that comment to myself. “My period should start anytime.”
He’s rubbing my neck. “Want to try to go back to bed?”
I’m minimally better so it seems a good idea. “Yeah. I think I’m finished for now, but give me a minute. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”
He sighs, a sign he doesn’t appreciate my need for privacy, but I don’t care. I have business to tend and it doesn’t concern him. And I’m very glad I asked him to leave when I see the blood after I wipe. Talk about being on cue—my period has arrived so we won’t have to wait to know I’m not pregnant.
Seeing the evidence of what I already knew leaves me unsettled. I didn’t believe I was pregnant but I think I might have hoped, maybe somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that we had conceived. Is this disappointment I’m feeling?
I come out of the bathroom once I’m finished and he’s instantly by my side, helping me to the bed. “I started my period just now.”
“Oh.” I hear his disappointment and I’m not sure how to respond. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t feel right and neither does telling him we’ll try. The truth is that I’m not sure what I want. I only know I love him and want nothing more than to please him, but do I agree to have a baby when I’m uncertain because I want to make him happy? How can that be best for our marriage?
I told him I’d think about a baby—and I will—but not now. I don’t have it in me to do anything but climb into our bed and fall fast asleep.