Jacob’s arm wrapped around my quivering body, and he drew me close. His head tucked over mine, and he pulled the blanket tight around my body, making me feel like nothing could happen as long as he was here.
It was a foreign feeling when it came to Jacob—feeling safe. Usually I felt more exposed with him, like I never knew what to expect or how to react. At the same time it was a new feeling for me to have with him, it was not a new feeling overall. I’d felt this way before, but it hadn’t been in Jacob’s presence—it had been in his brother’s.
Matt.
God, I couldn’t think of him. Not right now. Not now that I’d married Jacob and made things final between us. It wasn’t fair to Jacob. It wasn’t fair to either of them. It wasn’t fair to me either. I’d waited. And waited. And nothing.
I’d been wrong about Matt harboring feelings for me. I’d been wrong to harbor my own. I’d kept Jacob on the line, biding his time, for too long, and I’d finally accepted what I should have long ago.
Matt didn’t love me. Not the way I wanted him to.
So I’d agreed when Jacob asked me again last summer to marry him. I’d finally agreed to get on with my life and stop living it in some perpetual state of waiting.
I’d chosen Jacob. And sitting here beside him, having him comfort me and hold me close, confirmed that I’d made the right choice.
No one could love me the way the man holding me right now could.
Could this driver be any slower?! I leaned forward to check the odometer to see if we really were traveling two miles per hour like it felt. Surprisingly, the odometer still showed we were cruising along in the thirty to thirty-five mile an hour range.
“What’s up?” Jacob leaned forward with me to see what I was checking for—for the ten thousandth time since sliding into the backseat of the cab at the airport.
“Nothing. Just feels like we’re going slow.” My eyes narrowed on the odometer. At least I thought we were going about thirty-five; it was hard to tell. I’d finished more mini bottles of alcohol than a girl my stature probably should have during that two-plus-hour flight, but I’d made it and survived without going full-on psycho.
I’d blown past buzzed two mini bottles ago. Which meant my vision was a little funky.
“In a hurry to get somewhere?” Jacob’s voice was low, his words like velvet, as his fingers scrolled down my arm, brushing the side of my breast on their return trip.
The touch surprised me, making me shift in my seat. He’d barely touched me today, which was very un-Jacob-like. He’d barely let me touch him either, which was even more un-Jacob-like. It was almost like my new husband had grown some Puritan values or something.
But no. He’d just grazed my breast. In the backseat of a taxi. I cleared my throat when his fingers repeated the motion, this time practically cupping my entire breast in his palm.
No, definitely not a Puritan value—squeezing one’s wife’s boob in the backseat of a cab. Thank god.
I turned my head so I was looking at him. He was staring at me with something dark in his eyes—something almost predatory. The ache between my legs grew until I felt like my whole being was consumed with need.
“You’re making me in more of a hurry.”
He kissed the tip of my nose, his fingers still touching me in ways that were making me squirm. “Good.”
The warmth of whiskey on his breath broke across my mouth. The glaze in his eyes told me that I wasn’t the only one who’d drank a little more than they should have on the plane ride. But he’d only had a couple of bottles, which should not have affected Jacob at all. I’d seen him down ten times as much in the same amount of time and still have enough coordination to play a game of Ping-Pong with his non-dominant hand. It was strange that two baby bottles would be getting to him the way they were, but maybe it was due to all of the excitement of the day. He probably hadn’t eaten much, so those two bottles had gone straight to his head.
“Are you hungry? We could stop and grab something on our way to the hotel.” I scanned outside the window for any convenience store or late night drive-through that might still be open. Not that St. Thomas was a mecca for fast food and 7-11s.
Jacob’s arm wound lower, his hand lifting my hip so it could slide beneath me. He gave my backside a hard squeeze, pressing my body impossibly close to his. “I’m hungry for you.”
His warm breath heated the skin below my ear right before his lips touched it. My back went rigid when he lightly sucked at my neck. He didn’t stop until I knew he’d put a mark on me. I could already feel it rising to the surface. The proof that I belonged to this man pulled things from me that I hadn’t known were there in the first place.
The cab driver was paying attention to the road, thankfully, but when a soft whimper spilled out of my mouth, his eyes lifted to the rearview. He must have guessed what was going on because his eyes flickered back to the windshield a moment after.
The hotel was up ahead. We’d just passed through the gates, and I could make out the massive structure Jacob had showed me online when he’d pitched St. Thomas as a honeymoon idea. I’d been happy to go with St. Thomas when the alternatives he suggested were Cancun, Crete, and Amsterdam. St. Thomas was the quietest of those options, although the resort was like its own mini party that never ended, from the looks of it.
That was probably why Jacob had picked it. If it had been up to me, we’d be on some quiet island where you maybe came across the occasional sea turtle.
“Penthouse?” Jacob said, glancing at the tall tower as the cab approached.
“Nothing but the best for you, right?” I could see that the lobby was full of people in bright clothes, drinks in hand and all-nighter goals in sight.
“Yeah, but what’s the best for you?” Jacob pulled out his phone and pulled up the hotel’s website. I wasn’t sure how to answer that, so I stayed quiet as he scrolled through a few pages, getting ready to open the door. “I’ll be right back. Just hang tight a minute.”
Before I could say anything, he’d closed the door and was loping up the gleaming stairs of the hotel’s entrance. He’d booked the penthouse a whole five minutes after we set the wedding date, wanting to make sure we had the top floor and everyone knew we had the top floor. So why was he acting like the penthouse wasn’t going to work anymore? It wasn’t like there was anything higher or more prestigious.
While I waited, I spun the bracelet around on my wrist. Only a few minutes later, he was back, climbing into the backseat with a half-smile.
“What?” I asked, nudging him.
He ignored me, his smile spreading as he listed off a few directions to the driver. The car pulled away from the curb, and we headed away from the monstrous tower.
“What in the world is going on?” I asked, twisting in my seat so he had to look at me.