Chapter one hundred nineteen
Carrie
Reid
The dance floor is in a connecting room and Carrie and I head in that direction. Once we’re through the doors and walking onto the dance floor, she turns to me. “I want the song you played for my walk down the aisle, please.”
I kiss her. “I’ll make it happen.”
I cross to the DJ we hired and whisper our request. The crowd funnels into the room, and I return to Carrie, pulling her into my arms. “Wife.”
She smiles a beautiful smile and says, “Husband.”
I nuzzle her neck. “I love how that sounds.”
“Me too,” she says, her hands settling on my jaw before I pull back to look at her. “You’re all mine now.”
“And you’re all mine.”
“Yes, baby, I am. All of me.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom will now share their first dance.” The song starts to play and I bury my face in Carrie’s neck, the two of us starting to sway.
I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I’m not enough
Carrie pulls back to look at me, stroking my cheek. “You’re everything to me,” she whispers.
I cup her hand and kiss her knuckles, a well of emotion in my chest at those words, at the depth of emotion in her eyes. “As you are to me, Carrie,” I say. “And that both scares the hell out of me and gives me a reason to live at the same time.” The song verse lifts in the air: Taking all I have and now I'm laying it at Your feet.
“All of me,” I repeat. “I’m not holding anything back.”
“If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t be your wife.”
The room fades away and I kiss her, licking into her mouth and molding her close. The way I plan to hold her forever.
The cake and the photos and every moment of the reception is perfection. In ten days, we managed to pull off the perfect fairytale wedding. Reid and I exit the Rockefeller Center with me in a beautiful, pink lace, knee-length gown, and a matching Chanel coat with confetti being thrown at us. We slide into a limo and Reid drags me to him and kisses me thoroughly before he says, “Wife,” as he has over and over during the reception.
“Husband,” I say and we both smile.
“Ready for our honeymoon?” he asks.
“What? What honeymoon?”
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t plan a honeymoon, did you? You did everything else. Everything is set. You just need to pack. We have a private plane waiting for us to take us to Italy.”
I have a flashback to him asking me when we were in Japan, the one place I wanted to visit the most. I’d said Italy. “Really? Italy?”
“That’s right, baby. Rome, Venice, Milan, and Florence on a two-week honeymoon.”
“Don’t we need to work?”
“Gabe has it handled and we’ll have phones and the internet.”
“What about our fur babies?”
“Cat and Reese are going to pick them up before we leave. They say it will be good practice for the baby.”
“Oh my God. We’re really going to Italy.”
“Yes. I was going to take you to Paris, but I saw the stars in your eyes over Italy.”
“It’s perfect. Everything about today has been perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” he says, molding me close. “Everything about you.”
“Reid,” I breathe out. “God, I love you.”
“And I love you, Carrie, maybe too much but you’re going to have to live with it.”
“Like that’s a burden.”
“You know I’m going to be protective.”
“Going to be? Or are?”
“I guess you’ve gotten a taste of me in all ways.”
“I want another taste now,” I dare.
“Is that right?”
“Yes. It is. I want to know if it feels different to fuck you when you’re my husband.”
The limo halts in front of our building and Reid says, “Let’s go find out.”
He opens his door and helps me out and we make the walk to our building, a crisp, urgent tension between us. I want him. He wants me. This is our wedding night. Our wedding night. We step into the elevator and the minute the doors shut us inside alone, I’m pressed into the corner and his fingers are tunneling into my hair. “Aren’t there cameras?” I ask, sounding as breathless as I feel. He is perfection in a tuxedo and he smells like a sweet spice and him. He smells that certain way that is only Reid, and it’s masculine and addictive. And he’s my husband.
“Ask me if I care about cameras,” he says, his mouth closing down on mine, his tongue licking against my tongue. His hands slide over my hip to settle on my lower back and mold me to him. He’s a drug, and I am addicted. I press into him, stroke his tongue with mine, and I’m lost to the point that I barely know when the elevator stops. “Come on, baby,” he says. “Let’s go make love.”
“Make love?”
“Yes. Even when we fuck we make love. And I like it.”
“Me too,” I whisper, letting him take my hand and guide me out of the elevator, our steps anxious as we approach our door.
Reid pulls me in front of him, placing me between him and the door, and even as he unlocks it, his body hugs mine, his hands sliding over my backside. I rotate to face him and he’s kissing me in an instant, walking me into the apartment. Nikki comes running at us as Reid shuts the door. “Stay, Nikki,” he says, scooping me up and carrying me toward the bedroom.
Nikki barks at us excitedly and I’m laughing as Reid enters the bedroom, flips on the light with his elbow and then kicks the door shut. “The children will have to wait,” he murmurs, settling me on the bed and coming down on top of me, his mouth slanting over mine, tongue licking against my tongue in a deep, consuming kiss that steals my breath and somehow allows me to breathe.
He lifts off of me and shrugs out of his jacket. “I need you naked, baby.”
He pulls me to my feet and turns me, my back to his front and his hands caress a path up and down my body, one cupping my breast and squeezing. I moan, arching into him and the doorbell rings. Reid groans. “No. Not now. It has to be Cat and Reese.”
I rotate in his arms. “Oh God. Well, this will be really good foreplay.”
He kisses me and groans again. “Fuck.” He releases me and runs a hand through his hair. “Pack, baby. We’ll do this on the plane. No one can get to us there.”
“The plane?”
He grabs me and kisses me. “Yes. The plane.”
He turns and exits the bedroom. I follow him and in a whirlwind of activity, Nikki is barking, Kesha is meowing, and Cat, Reese, Gabe, my father, and his future wife, Stella, are in our apartment. It’s utter chaos, but it’s wonderful. It’s family and across the crush of activity, Reid’s eyes meet mine and everything fades but us. We’re married. We’re in love. We’re a family. And we’re going to be on a plane to Italy in a few hours, probably naked for part of the flight.
Life, love, happiness. I read those words in Cat’s column once. Of course, she was talking about coffee, but for me, it’s all about Reid.