Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Claire
My laughter echoes through Draven’s kitchen the following morning as he chases me in circles around the marble island.
I’m barefoot and wearing one of his T-shirts, my fingers sticky from the most delicious apple tart he fed me for breakfast. My hair is loose and wild from another night of marathon lovemaking.
I’ve never felt so much happiness at once.
Wait, no. I’m even happier ten seconds later when Draven comes roaring around the island and snatches me up with an arm around my waist, tossing me up into his arms and raining growling kisses down on my face.
“You can run, but you can’t hide,” he says.
“Draven, you can’t eat me breakfast!” I squeal as he bites playful at my neck.
“Says who?”
“Me!”
“Well, it’s your opinion versus mine and I’m the chef in this family.”
I’m thrown down on the couch a second later, Draven looming above me in his morning ensemble of loose black sweatpants and no shirt.
His long, talented fingers dig lightly into my ribs, and I squirm around with breathless protests over being tickled, although he can probably tell how much I love it.
This carefree side of him. His penchant for fun that is showing itself more and more often.
Not to mention, when we play these lighthearted games, his casual displays of strength excite me. Make me feel…fragile. Sweet.
Playful.
With darkening eyes, Draven nudges my legs apart and kneels between my thighs on the couch. Biting my lip, I hurry to tug down the hem of the T-shirt before he sees my bare pussy, but I cover myself too late and he clucks his tongue at me.
“Sorry, Daddy.”
“What have I said about tempting me?” Both of our attentions are drawn to the rising ridge in his sweatpants. “There are consequences.”
“I didn’t mean it,” I whisper, holding a section of my shirt over my sex, though I know he can see everything that surrounds it, such as the highest section of my thighs that connect to my bottom. “I-I can’t close my legs.”
“That’s right. You can’t.” His warm hands coast up the insides of my thighs. “They always seem to be wide open around me. Are you trying to tell me something?”
I’m hit with such a rush of warmth beneath my navel, I can’t respond. Can only lie there and attempt to control the rapid breaths firing in and out of my lungs.
“I’m not allowed to put my cock there, little girl,” he says, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Stop showing me what I can’t have.”
Watching him through my eyelashes, I release the hem of the shirt and reveal myself to the dominant man who stares down at me, rapt, his guttural groan making me shiver. “Oops,” I pout. “My hand was getting tired. I couldn’t hold it anymore.”
Slowly, Draven drops down on top of me, my thighs trembling around his hips as he presses down harder, harder, flattening me, all while looking me right in the eye. Such intense focus on me that I swear I’m the only person in the universe. To him, I think I am.
We’re so wrapped up in each other, I don’t hear the phone buzzing right away.
It’s only after a few seconds that I realize the device is vibrating on the coffee table to my left.
“Goddammit,” he says through his teeth, leaning down to drop a fervent kiss on my tummy, followed by my moist flesh.
“I know that’s my brother calling. We should have been at the restaurant fifteen minutes ago. ”
I gasp, searching around the room with my eyes for a clock, finding one on the cable box beside the television. “Oh my gosh. I totally lost track of time.”
“I wonder why,” Draven says, dragging his tongue in a circle around my belly button. “I haven’t left you alone since we got home last night. Poor girl.”
“Happy girl.”
He lifts his head and grins, studying me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, caressing his cheek. “Crazy happy.”
For long moments, he stares at me, a deep, abiding love displayed on his face. I could lie there for hours while he looks at me like this, but his phone rings again. “You know what?” Draven says, sounding thoughtful. Slightly dazed. “Fuck work.”
I lift an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’re not going to work today. Fuck it.
” He grabs his vibrating phone off the coffee table and stands, looking down at me.
“Pierre. Yeah, no shit. I know we’re not there.
” He listens for a moment, the tinny gripes of his brother filling the air.
“There should be enough sauce to make it to the dinner shift. After that, you’re on your own.
We’re taking the day off work to get married. ”
I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp.
Married?
Today?
Draven holds the phone away from his ear while Pierre screeches on the other end of the line.
His voice is loud enough to make out what he’s saying now.
“You can’t just pick and choose when to be responsible, you prick!
Just like you can’t pick and choose when to think about kitchen safety. If you were more consistent—”
“Our mother would still be alive,” Draven finishes for him, something new in his tone.
Realization. Freedom. “Yeah, I’m not going to let you hold that over my head anymore.
Believe me, I’ve punished myself enough for the both of us.
But, uh…” His chest rises and falls on a breath.
“I’m done with the guilt. I’m choosing to be happy.
Goodbye, Pierre. We’ll see you tomorrow. ”
He hangs up the phone before his brother has a chance to respond.
I view my fiancé through a blurred lens of tears, my heart bursting with happiness for so many reasons. One, we’re getting married today. But more importantly, he has loosened the chains of guilt that have shackled him for so long. He’s free.
With a watery sound, I bound off the couch and launch myself into his arms.
“I couldn’t have done that without you, Claire,” he whispers into my hair, his arms banding around me like steel, his masculine musk filling my nose, my head, his rich heat reaching me through the borrowed T-shirt.
“Please become my wife today. I never want to be apart from you. I want my life and yours to be one and the same. Always.”
“I want that, too,” I murmur, laying my cheek on his shoulder. “Make me yours, Draven.”
When I left home, I only packed one dress, and I wear it now to get married.
It’s pink with cap sleeves and a tiny bow between my breasts.
It’s a little too short to be appropriate for the courthouse, but the skirt is flowy with a lace hem, which is my version of fancy.
Unfortunately, all I have to wear with it are my white sneakers and socks, and the ensemble makes me look young. Too young to be getting married.
At least, that appears to be the opinion of everyone we pass in the courthouse.
Draven holds my hand proudly within his and I walk at his side while we go through the process of procuring the marriage license and receive our time to appear before the judge.
While we’re waiting, I sit in his lap and we talk about the future.
Opening our own restaurant on the dramatic Maine coastline and collecting Michelin stars one by one with our secret recipes.
We talk about having babies. At least two.
A boy and a girl. We’ll take them to summer in the south of France while Draven learns new tricks from the local chefs.
Soon enough, it’s time to stand before the judge, and Draven carries me to the civil ceremony chambers, my sneakers dangling over his arm.
The judge’s eyes bug out of his head when we arrive, visibly shocked by the difference in our ages. But neither one of us cares. We face each other and I tilt my head all the way back, so I can stare up into the eyes of my man. My lover, my husband.
The Daddy I didn’t know I needed but needed so desperately.
And I know he needs me back, profoundly, because it’s written in his tender expression.
I’m caught off guard when Draven produces rings from the pocket of his dress pants.
“Where did you get those?” I breathe in awe. “When?”
“It’s a good thing you take long showers,” he chuckles.
“There’s a jewelry store on the same block as our building.
” He slides the gold band on to my finger, and I do the same for him, Draven dipping his chin in relief when they’re the perfect fit.
“I couldn’t marry the most incredible girl in the world without a ring. ”
“I love you so much,” I whisper.
We kiss to seal our union, and I leap into his arms with a laugh, wrapping my legs around his hips and nuzzling my face into the slope of his neck.
With one hand supporting my backside and the other on the back of my head, Draven carries me from the courthouse through a sea of judgment that we acknowledge to each other with a wry smile.
“What do you say we have a mini honeymoon?”
I lay a long, dreamy kiss on his mouth. “I say, take me anywhere. As long as we’re together.”
He walks in the direction of downtown, just as the sun is beginning to dip low in the sky. “You never have to worry about that, Claire. Never.”