Chapter One #2
Shock rolled across her face as she looked from her stepdaddy to her mom, and then she squealed and jumped up to run over to them, hugging them hard.
The music petered out, and as soon as Mike announced it to the whole room, Brax started uncorking champagne with Rory’s help and began passing it around.
After the excitement calmed down, River Pearl stood up and clinked a fork against her glass. Verity was dealing with a fussy Duel, who still wanted to dance. I took him from her, put him on my shoulders, and started to bounce. That always made him laugh.
I was surprised at how heavy he’d gotten.
“If I could have everyone’s attention.”
The room quieted down, and I looked over at Brax, wondering if he’d finally asked that girl to marry him.
He was talking to Ethan and looked completely relaxed.
It was miraculous the change that River Pearl had wrought.
He was still his usual acerbic self, but the anger that used to permeate every word and move was gone.
“River Art, my gallery, is sponsoring a Christmas Eve showing of living and whimsical art, and y’all are invited.
There will be really cool installations, a Christmas party for kids early in the afternoon—with Santa and his elves attending—and a hoity-toity party for adults in the evening.
Black tie is optional. I will need Santa and elf volunteers.
“I call Santa,” Brax said. “I’m not wearing no damn pointy shoes.”
“Like hell,” Booker said. “You’re looking at the big guy here.”
“No way,” I chimed in. “I have Santa sewn up. Especially since I suspect my wife will be making the costume. Gives me an edge.” I looked over at Verity, but she was lost in her own world, mentally tackling something and the hair prickled at the back of my neck.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brax straighten and look directly at me. Almost on cue, Booker turned in his seat, and our eyes met. I shrugged, giving them both a smile, but something was definitely off-kilter.
River Pearl said, “We’ll figure out who will be Santa later.
For now, I just wanted to make the announcement, and get you all thinking about it, and you’ll all get formal invitations later.
Brax will, of course, do the catering, which should be plenty of incentive to attend, especially after this Thanksgiving feast we decimated. ”
Ethan clapped, and everyone joined in, including Verity, with a smile on her face. I relaxed. For all I knew, she was working out one of her designs in her head. That girl was always designing.
Then it was time to play and sing, and I lost track of her while people flowed around us.
Some regulars dropped in, and Brax fed them, and the dancing got wild.
Toward the end of the day, I rotated out with my cousin Creed, who had a great voice.
Searching for my wife, I found her with her momma, who was holding Duel while he gobbled a piece of pumpkin pie, his chubby cheeks smeared with orange spiciness, and his grandma’s sweater a victim of whipped cream.
I went over to Henry. “You going to be all right?”
He nodded, his blue eyes sad and lost. “I’ll come over to visit with you tomorrow. We can go fishing. Okay?”
He brightened, and I got a smile out of him. “Okay, Boone.”
Just then Baker appeared in the doorway, and I walked Henry over to him with narrowed eyes. He took the boy and disappeared out the door.
I walked over to Verity. “Dance,” I said, and she rose without hesitation and slipped into my arms like she had never left them. I needed to kiss her. I was going to kiss her, but not here. I was going to make myself wait until we were home.
She wrapped her arms around me on the dance floor, and we swayed to the sultry Cajun ballad and Creed’s haunting, rich voice.
We were completely in tune with each other, and I had only experienced this kind of closeness with two other people in my life.
My brothers. That cosmic, mystical place where it seemed as if we knew each other’s’ desires, thoughts, dreams, a commitment rooted in our very souls.
Our marriage was strong, our bond was solid, and we as a couple were unbreakable.
“I think River is going to ask you to make all the costumes. What do you think about me being the jolly fat guy?”
She pinched the skin at my waist. “We’ll have to work on fattening you up.” I chuckled and nuzzled my nose into her hair.
“And, I haven’t heard your ho ho ho, but I think you’ll make a great Santa,” she whispered. “It looks like there’s going to be a contest with your brothers vying for the role, too, but my money will always be on you, babe.”
Her belief in me, spoken in her husky voice, made my throat close up a little. She slipped her arm around my waist, her touch telegraphing sensual need that made my breath falter.
When the song ended, I said, “Come on, darlin’ let’s go home.”
On the way home, Duel fell asleep after a few minutes of fussing, and Verity slipped her hand around mine. I laced my fingers with hers, our most profound communication done by touch alone. She rubbed her thumb over the back of my hand.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” I said.
Her voice was unusually husky when she responded. “I’m just tired, Boone. It’s been a hectic week.”
“You should have let me know. I can pitch in more.”
Verity rested her head against the headrest, and she continued to rub my skin, her erotic touch sending me the message that she wasn’t that tired. “You do plenty.”
Ten more minutes and we’d be home, and I wanted to hold her so badly. Press tight and hard against her, feel her holding me. Her grip on my fingers as we pulled into the drive told me she wanted me right now.
With a huskiness I couldn’t mask, I said, “I’ll take care of Duel. Go ahead and get ready for bed.”
Once we were in the garage, Verity went inside, and I got Duel, carrying him to his room, and tucking him in.
He didn’t even stir he was so wiped out.
For a moment I stood there daydreaming about how great it would be for him to have a brother or sister.
The thought of having a little girl made my gut tighten.
We’d been a family of boys, but the thought of someone all pink and sweet made me giddy.
As soon as I walked into the room, she ambushed me. She was naked, and I was always ready for her.
Her hands were rough from getting nicked up sewing, but the rest of her was soft, so damned soft.
My heart was pounding in the dark with her, the sweet smell of her almost knocking me out.
“Boone,” she said, her voice breathlessly soft. “I can’t get enough of you.”
Her face was turned up toward mine, and I simply lowered my mouth to hers. There was nothing to say, not right now, not when all I wanted, all I needed, was to touch her, to slide my tongue in her mouth and taste her, to fill myself up with her.
Our lips met, hers parted, and a hundred emotions flooded me.
I always expected the pleasure, electrifying pleasure—but tonight the anticipation was intense.
This was home, being with Verity, our bodies touching.
She came up on tiptoe, her mouth on mine, her arms going around my neck, and I slid my hand down her back.
Then further, curving around her tight, gorgeous ass.
I tried not to devour her, but she was already there, and I was drowning in the love I felt—on the edge of desperation pulling me under, the heat of her skin, in the all-consuming wetness of her mouth.
This was going to be hot. It was going to be hot and fast, sweet and dirty, and up against the wall in less than five minutes. I was so in love with my wife, so in love with her.
I would never live without this.
She opened her mouth wider, took me deeper, and it wasn’t enough—not even close.
I was lost. Nothing had ever felt like this with any other girl and nothing ever would. It was Verity all the way.
Everything I felt for her, everything she’d ever made me feel, washed through me and nearly dropped me to my knees.
She’d been mine from the moment I laid eyes on her, the preacher girl.
She held my face in her hands, covering me with kisses, and I slid my hand between her legs.
“Yes…yes. Please Boone,” she pleaded. She unzipped my pants, opened my shirt. She pressed her forehead against my chest, as I worked her over. “Oh, God, Boone,” she whispered against my lips, her fingers grazing over my dick.
I knew the bed was close. Very close, but it was too far. We weren’t going to make it there, not this first time, not when she was soft and wet, and my pants were half off, not when her hand was between my legs, and I could hardly breathe for what she was doing to me.
“Damn, Verity.” I rocked against her, then lifted her in my arms and pressed her back against the wall. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She did, helping me out, making it so easy for me to push up inside her, when…everything slowed down, way down.
It was so incredible, the sensations so intensely sweet, the rush of emotion overwhelming.
I swore softly. She felt amazingly good.
I nuzzled her neck, thrusting into her, and felt myself die a little from the pleasure.
She sealed her mouth over mine and sucked on my tongue and just flat-out filling my whole body with the sensation of love, the sex an expression of it.
Consumed. All sex, love, heat, and Verity.
I moved one arm down around her bottom, holding her tighter, lifting her, pushing deeper—and then I came. I felt the warning signals, felt the first sweet edge of release, and was helpless to stop it. I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t have the will.
Oh, God. It was soul-wrenching, a melting orgasm that started at the back of my skull and the base of my groin and just flowed out of me, taking me deep. It was a timeless sensation, and it lasted forever, and all the while she kissed me, holding me, her mouth on mine so hot and sweet.
“Verity…” I groaned, pushing myself deeper, my body shuddering.