Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
I rolled over in bed, fully awake but completely unable to get up. I was in a state of bliss; the sheets were crisp and somehow cottony-soft at the same time, the light streaming through the windows soft and delicate, and there was a pleasant smell in the room, no doubt coming from the bubbling jacuzzi I heard whirring in the bathroom.
I could just barely make out Phillip’s voice over the jacuzzi; it sounded like maybe he was talking to Lee. Reluctantly, I sat up in bed, languidly stretching my arms over my head, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face as I yawned contentedly. I stood and walked over to the sliding glass window, easing it open and poking my head out to enjoy the gentle morning breeze as I looked out over the Atlanta skyline. Sunlight glinted off the gold-capped top of the capitol building, shiny and bright.
“Hey, dirty girl,” a sultry voice said behind me, and Phillip’s arms wrapped around me, tight, pulling him into his warm, shirtless chest. He placed a wet kiss behind my ear, and his breath fluttered my hair, making my entire body erupt in gooseflesh. It was a little chilly in the room, especially since I was clad in only a silky black teddy with tiny, embroidered skulls on the bodice (my honeymoon present to Phillip, who had made no promises not to rip it to shreds before our stay was over) that didn’t cover much of my flesh. Phillip had already tested the jacuzzi from the feel of it, his skin so warm it was almost hot. I sunk into him, enjoying the feeling of his hot skin against my cool skin. He crooned against my ear, making my knees go weak. “Want to get clean with me?”
“If there’s a choice between getting clean or getting dirty,” I said, whirling to face him in the early morning light, “I’d rather get dirty.”
“Touché.” Phillip’s lips met mine in a crushing kiss, his arms wrapping around my waist, picking me up off the floor. When he finally set me down, my entire brain was whirling.
“Is that delicious smell coming from the jacuzzi?” I asked, my mouth still against his, my voice coming out a dreamy murmur.
“Yes,” he answered, stepping back to take a look at me. “I used all the fancy bath products that were in there. Gardenia or something.” He smiled, his eyes flashing. “You sure are pretty in the mornings with your hair all rumpled and your eyes half-asleep. I hope I never get used to that.”
I blushed. “Stop. I haven’t even used any mouthwash. I probably stink. My hair’s in a knot?—"
“With all due respect, Mrs. Deville, please do shut up.” Without another word, Phillip picked me up and carried me across the suite, using his bare foot to kick open the double doors that led into the expansive bathroom. The smell of gardenia was strong and sweet as he deposited me on the edge of the jacuzzi. “Now take that thing off before I tear it off with my teeth,” he ordered, his eyes dancing. Without argument, my heart pounding, I slid the strap down my shoulder, unable to tear my eyes away from him.
We’d been here for a whole day already, but I still couldn’t believe Phillip had booked the Ritz Carlton—and a suite, no less—for our honeymoon. By most celebrity standards, the Ritz Carlton wasn’t the crème de la crème or anything, but for a girl who had grown up dirt poor and still lived in a singlewide trailer, it was beyond my wildest dreams. I was still marveling at all of it—the view, the amenities, the crisp, gorgeous sheets on the California king bed, the room service, the jacuzzi…it was too much.
And I intended to enjoy every moment of it.
Most especially, I intended to enjoy every moment with—and every inch of—my handsome, sexy husband. I slid the other strap of my teddy down, giving Phillip a playful, defiant look.
He bent down onto one knee, his arm resting beside mine on the edge of the jacuzzi, and leaned close to my face. Then he growled, showing me his straight, white teeth. Despite myself, I began to tremble and pushed the teddy down faster. It now lay at my hips. I moved to stand up and take it the rest of the way off, and Phillip stopped me, holding me down fast.
“Let me,” he said, his voice still a growl, making me shiver. He placed his hands on either side of me, his warm hands tugging the silk over my hips, the sensation of the silky fabric and his warm hands running over my skin, invoking a sigh of pleasure. He gently lifted my feet, pulling the teddy out from under me and carefully folding it, placing it on the shelf so it wouldn’t get wet. He’s so thoughtful, I thought to myself almost bashfully, but Phillip silenced that thought with one glowering look. His eyes burned as he stared up at me, his face set in determination, burning with a glow that almost seemed to come from within.
“Open your legs,” he commanded, and my eyes widened, but I did as he asked. His soft black hair fell over his forehead and tickled my knees as he buried his face in my thighs. I clamped a hand over my mouth, sensations washing over me.
Phillip’s kisses started near my knees, gentle and playful, but became more insistent and rough as he neared my inner thighs. I cried out as he nibbled at the delicate skin there, then moaned loudly when he bit me for real, his teeth sharp and pointed against his soft, wet lips.
“Too much?” Phillip raised up and looked at me inquisitively, a ghost of a smile on his face.
I panted, pushing his head down. “Not enough.”
His lips felt so good against me that I soon forgot how to think at all.
Sometime later, I did actually bathe—and I was still sitting in the crook of Phillip’s arm as I languidly washed at our intertwined legs with a soapy loofah, legs that felt like jelly from the heights of passion he’d taken me to. I sighed against him, moaning softly as his hand came up to gently graze my thigh.
“Is this it?” I asked, raising the loofah up and ringing it out, the warm suds feeling wonderful against my skin.
“What?” he asked, watching the soap as it dripped down my arms and onto my chest. “Good lord, that’s sexy.”
“Surely you must be spent by now.” I giggled, turning to face him, the hot, bubbling water lapping against our shoulders.
“With you? Never.” He laughed, unable to tear his eyes away from my soapy body. “You’ll fuck me back into the grave, I’m sure of it.” Then he wrenched his eyes upward. “What do you mean, is this it?”
“This. The Ritz Carlton, the jacuzzi…all of this.” I gestured, flinging water droplets into the air. “Is this the big honeymoon surprise, or is there more?” He chuckled, and I rushed to say, “I mean, if this is it, this is totally perfect. I’ve never stayed anywhere so nice. It’s like a dream. I wouldn’t want or expect anything more. I didn’t mean to imply that…like…”
“Oh my god, Stormy, shut the hell up.” Phillip kissed me passionately, his arm wrapping around me and pulling me onto his lap, where I could feel that he was, indeed, ready again. His other arm grazed at my soapy breast as I opened my legs to him, gasping a little as he entered me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as I straddled him, the pulsing of the jets sending bubbles as high as our shoulders. Phillip’s hips bucked against me, and I cried out against his neck.
“No, this isn’t it,” he growled in my ear, his sharp teeth grazing me again. “There’s more, my dirty witch. There’s always more.”
This time, I bit him back.
I could feel beads of sweat traveling beneath my shirt, down my back, making a damp spot. I grimaced as I ran toward the souvenir shop, one of at least a dozen in my general vicinity, hoping to get a moment’s respite from the sweltering sun. I leaned up against the building’s faux-wood fa?ade, grateful for the momentary shade, and smiled as Phillip sauntered up after me.
He leaned in close, pressing on the building with one long arm, and went for a kiss. I met his mouth eagerly, despite being sweaty and overheated. I’d never turn down my lover for a kiss, especially not after the night and morning we’d shared back at the hotel. Even now, standing in the blistering sun in ninety-five-degree Georgia midday sun with the humidity as thick as a wet thermal blanket, my thighs burned in anticipation, imagining what might transpire when we got back to the hotel for the evening. I planned to step into the huge, luxurious shower with its fancy rain spout and wash all the sweat off me, and then…well, maybe I’d just pull Phillip into the shower with me.
“Are you having fun?” Phillip asked, pulling back from my kiss reluctantly, reaching into the pocket of his black jean shorts for a hair tie. He pulled his hair back—it was really starting to get long again, and I couldn’t stand it, he looked so sexy—into a short ponytail.
“I am,” I said, beaming up at him, wiping a sheen of sweat from my brow.
“I feel bad,” he confessed, his brows furrowing in sympathy. “I didn’t know you don’t ride rollercoasters. And I didn’t know it was going to be quite so hot today when I planned this.”
“Oh, honey,” I said, touching his arm. “Please. Don’t feel bad. I’m having a great time. And like I said, it’s just the upside-down coasters I don’t like. I’ll totally get on the Scream Machine with you.”
“Promise?” Phillip’s eyes danced.
“I promise. It’s the least I can do after you planned this whole thing for me, and since you’ve graced my eyes with the view of you wearing shorts.” I fanned myself with a hand and Phillip laughed.
“Shut up. It’s hot out.”
“No kidding.” I shielded my eyes from the sun and scanned the crowd. It was surprisingly crowded at Six Flags for a Tuesday, but I supposed that in the summer, theme parks were busy pretty much around the clock. There was certainly no shortage of people today. “Where did our folks go?”
Phillip was still digging in his pocket. He fished out another hair tie triumphantly and gestured for me to turn around. I did, smiling as Phillip wrapped my hair in his hands and put it in a high ponytail. He’d been taking care of me like that the entire day—our entire honeymoon, in fact. If he wasn’t careful, I was going to end up seriously spoiled. And I didn’t mind it one bit.
“Nikolai and Beth, and Roberta and Jamie all went to ride the Ninja,” he said, naming one of the rollercoasters I definitely would not be riding. I smiled. Nikolai and my new friend Beth, hooper extraordinaire, seemed to enjoy spending time together. I loved to see whatever was blooming between them taking form. “Benny, Lee, Jason, and Ollie went over to Monster Plantation. They said they’d hold the line for us.”
“Monster Plantation!” I exclaimed, whirling around with childish glee. “I’d forgotten all about that!”
“I take it it’s some kind of like…kid’s ride?” Phillip chuckled as I looped my arm in his and dragged him forward, forgetting about the heat in my excitement. “Lee said it’s like a haunted house but with Muppets or something.”
“Even better,” I assured him as he walked along. How could I have forgotten Monster Plantation? As a child, it had been my favorite ride at Six Flags. I could still hear Daddy complaining. Every year it’d be the same—“I didn’t pay fifty daggum dollars to see you ignore all the coasters and just ride that dumb boat over and over,” and Mama would tell him to shush up, that he hadn’t had to pay for my ticket anyway and to just let me enjoy myself. It was true; I’d earned my ticket every year through the reading program at school, and I knew that Mama had afforded her and Daddy’s tickets by hoarding Coca Cola wrappers from the two-liter bottles and cashing them in. I wondered if those sorts of rewards programs existed now so poor folks could come out and enjoy themselves. Then I began to wonder just how much Phillip had paid for all this—the hotel, tickets to Six Flags for us and our friends, and who knew what else he had in store…and began to feel guilty.
“It’s our honeymoon, baby,” Phillip said, his hand caressing the back of my neck and moving up into my ponytail. “You’re not to feel guilty about one single thing. The first part of our relationship was spent dodging bullets and god knows what else. I never got a chance to spoil you, and I’m making up for it now. You got a problem with that?”
“No,” I confessed happily as we walked along. I could see the outline of Monster Plantation off in the distance.
“So tell me more about this ride, then,” Phillip said with a satisfied grin, having won the argument.
“It’s…as weird as it sounds. It’s a kid’s ride, like you said. You get in this little rickety boat, and it leads you through this old plantation house?—"
“As in, a Southern plantation? Like the pre-Civil War kind?” Phillip grimaced.
“Yeah, I know. Not great, huh. But inside, there’s monsters. And that’s all I’m going to tell you. The rest you’ll have to see for yourself.” I gestured at the line forming outside the old fake plantation, and Phillip looked up at it, bemused.
“About time you two lovebirds got here,” Lee said, gesturing for us to join them. I hesitated, but the couple behind them ushered us forward. He clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re literally damp, Stormy.”
“Well, someone didn’t tell me we were coming to Six Flags, so I stupidly wore a black polyester shirt!” I said, rolling eyes at Phillip, but I wasn’t really angry. Besides, it’d be air conditioned inside. I’d get a momentary break from the sweltering sun.
“I could always run to one of the thousands of overpriced gift shops and get you a Looney Tunes themed T-shirt,” Phillip offered with a grin. “One with your favorite, Pepe Le Pew?”
“If you call me ‘ mon petit bebe,’ I’ll kill you,” I said, and he burst out laughing.
“I wasn’t going to,” he lied.
“Then you were going to say something about me liking problematic men; just remember, that’s a self-own.”
Jason and Ollie, standing just a few yards ahead of us in line, were busy chatting up a couple of women who looked to be about our age. They saw us and returned our waves, but then quickly went back to talking, Ollie confident as usual, his always-impeccable Vans (seriously, did he buy a new pair every month?) decked out with flames. Jason hung back, a little shyly, I thought, but the twinkle in his eyes was more than a bit flirty. I wondered if the girls were fans. Likely not, because they would have noticed Phillip immediately. That was something I was still getting used to— Phillip being recognized everywhere. He’d signed two autographs in the first hour at Six Flags alone, to say nothing of the chaos he’d caused in downtown Atlanta the night before when we’d briefly crept out of our room for a romantic dinner. I found I didn’t hate it, though—I was very proud to be on Phillip’s arm, and not just because he was handsome and beloved by fans everywhere, but because he was mine, and I knew just how special he was. How lucky I was.
“I’m the lucky one,” Phillip murmured in my ear, and kissed me on the cheek.
“Hey, Stormy!” I turned to see Roberta running up to join the line, flanked by Jamie, who had his arm draped around her shoulder, and Beth and Nikolai, who hung back a little, lost in conversation. “I can’t miss the Monster Plantation!”
“Best ride at Six Flags!” I called back, and she nodded. Jamie groaned, laughing.
“Seriously?” he whined, but Roberta shut him up by planting a big, sloppy kiss on his grinning mouth. He responded by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close, not caring that people were watching. I smiled while watching them, so happy that Roberta had finally found happiness, then looked at Nikolai. He met my eyes for a moment, sharing a private look, then put his attention back on Beth, who was talking animatedly about something. She hadn’t dulled her look for Six Flags. If anything, the opposite—she was clad in black bike shorts, a skull T-shirt cinched at the waist, black platform sandals with metal studs, and her thick, dark hair was pulled back in a bun and wound with a scrunchie that appeared to be made out of bones. She looked adorable, and from the looks of it, my brother agreed.
For what felt like the millionth time, a wave of love swelled in my chest for this group of people, my chosen family. My pack. These chuckleheads who’d driven all the way to Atlanta on a week day to come to Six Flags and ride some dumb kid’s ride with me just because it was my honeymoon and they loved me. Loved Phillip.
And I loved them every bit as much.
“Come on, guys, we’re up.” Benny gestured at the boats rolling up onto the entrance ramp, and I stepped forward, surprised. That was the fastest I’d ever gotten through a line at Six Flags, on any ride. It must be my lucky day. The attendant, a skinny guy with a high ponytail and thick black eyeliner, gestured me forward impatiently. I stepped into the boat in front of me, grabbing Phillip’s arm and pulling him down beside me. He was so tall that his knees were forced uncomfortably into the seat in front of us, where Benny and Lee sat. Jason, Ollie, and their two female companions were in the boat just ahead of us, and as they rolled off the metal beam into the water, rickety and squeaking, Jason turned around and gave us a “hang ten” sign, grinning all the while. Phillip gave him one back, promptly followed by his middle finger.
Just as we were pushing off, the boat jostled. Two women, one skinny and petite in baggy gym clothes, and the other muscular, had skipped the line and were trying to jump into the back of our boat, where there was a spare seat. They were wearing cheap masks from the gift shop—Tweety Bird and Wonder Woman—the plastic kind that I remembered from childhood Halloweens. I giggled at the sight. The attendant hadn’t noticed the line-jumpers, busy helping someone get into another boat, so I shrugged and ignored them. It wasn’t like they were bothering us.
Roberta, Jamie, Beth, and Nikolai were still standing at the turnstiles. I gave them a sad shrug. “Catch the next one!” I called to Roberta. “We’ll wait for you guys at the exit!” She nodded and gave me a thumbs up.
“Do you want to put your legs in my lap?” I asked Phillip, noting how uncomfortable he must be, squished into the middle seat of a fake boat made for children.
“I’d like to put something in your lap, but not my legs,” he whispered back to me, and my face flushed. His lit up in a grin.
“You just stop that, Deville,” I whispered back, but my hand had already wound its way into his lap. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, couldn’t keep our minds out of the gutter. Oh well, we were on our honeymoon. Let everyone eat their hearts out.
The little boat inched its way through the water, and the two old wooden doors I remembered from my childhood opened, the boat floating inside to the plantation’s entryway. Immediately, we began to hear hillbilly style country music, and the first “monster”—basically a huge, glorified Muppet—greeted us warmly in an overexaggerated accent. Phillip laughed uproariously, and I grinned. He was going to love this. It was just the type of spooky kitsch he lived for.
In the boat behind us, people giggled and talked excitedly. I sighed happily and leaned into Phillip’s shoulder. The boat meandered down the pre-set watery track, rounding corners and visiting every monster resident of the plantation, each cheesier and funnier than the next. I watched Phillip more than I watched the show, laughing every time he laughed, relishing how much he was enjoying himself.
As we neared the end of the first part of the tour, the boat inching toward the second set of double doors, I felt a tap on the shoulder. I turned to face the teenager in the Tweety Bird mask, who was holding out a little trinket to me. I was surprised they were still wearing it. People wore masks and capes all over the park, but the Monster Plantation ride was already so dark, how could they see? “Yeah?” I asked.
“This rolled into the back of the boat just now,” the voice said. It was muffled but sounded like a young woman, her voice high pitched. “I think you may’ve dropped it.”
I took the little trinket and inspected it. It was my pot of lip gloss, the one I usually carried in my pocket. It must have fallen out when I was climbing onto the boat. “Thanks!” I said.
The girl nodded, her thick plastic mask unmoving. “No prob.”
With another smile, I turned back to the front of the boat, twisting off the lid of the lip gloss and running my index over the waxy, smooth surface. The familiar blueberry smell was sweet and cloying, and for a moment, I had the oddest sense of déjà vu. A chill crept up my back, then was gone. I swiped the gloss over my lips and pushed the pot back into my pocket.
I nudged Phillip. “Here we go!” He glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with bemusement as the sheriff monster yelled after us in a terrified voice, “Wait! Don’t go into the marsh!”
The little boat drifted through the double doors and into the second portion of the plantation, where it was dark and ominous, the music desolate and eerie. Neon green lights twinkled in the gnarled trees, the only source of light in the pitch black. I grabbed Phillip’s hand as we floated down the path, the first of the scary monsters leaping out at us from the darkness.
I could feel Phillip’s shoulders moving with his laughter and I grinned. I knew he’d love this.
We rounded another corner and were confronted with another scary monster, this one with a gaping maw for a mouth that emitted a painful, mournful howl. Behind us, a boisterous woman catcalled the monster, and I laughed, ignoring the increasing anxiety that was swirling around in my chest.
The boat continued to drift, and I cast my eyes to each of my friends, noting where they were in the expanse of dark, hearing their laughter, and I smiled. I tilted my head back a little, my eyes glancing back just for a split second, and nodded. It was time. Now or never.
As if on cue, what little eerie light there was flickered out, and we were suddenly pitched into complete and total – actual – darkness. The boat stopped. A collection of tittering laughter and groans came from the suspended boats, but they soon died as people realized this wasn’t part of the attraction. “Hey! We’re stuck!” Ollie complained from up front. “Somebody fix the boats!”
“Stormy?” Phillip asked again. “Are you okay?” His hand was on my arm, but I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see anything.
“I’m fine,” I said, reaching for him in the dark, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring pat. I could just barely make out his profile. “Everything’s fine. Or soon will be.”
“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice full of fury.
A voice I knew as well as my own spoke up, clear as a bell, from the seat behind me. No longer high pitched, it was low and calm. “Stormy and I have some business to attend to,” she said from behind the Tweety Bird mask.
“Indeed we do,” I answered, running my fingers over my lips, still wet from the gloss I’d applied. “Hi, Sloan.”
“Hey, Stormy,” she said, and pulled off her mask.