Chapter 20 Lesley
Final Day in Paradise
I woke up to the sound of soft humming and the smell of butter hitting a hot pan.
For a second, I forgot where I was—then it all came rushing back.
The wedding. The look on her face when she saw her friends.
The way she’d cried during our vows, real tears this time, not the polite ones from our courthouse ceremony.
My wife. My real wife now.
The bed beside me was empty, sheets still warm from where she’d been lying. Through the open doors to the terrace, I could see the ocean stretching endlessly and blue, but all I wanted to see was her.
I found boxer briefs on the floor and pulled them on, padding barefoot toward the kitchen area of our villa. The sight that greeted me made the tension fade.
Coco stood at the stove wearing nothing but silk turquoise robe, the hem hitting mid-thigh. Her braids were piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was swaying slightly to music only she could hear, completely oblivious of how beautiful she looked in the morning light.
I leaned against the doorframe, content watching her work.
She moved with the same precision she brought to everything else—cracking eggs with one hand, seasoning without measuring, timing everything perfectly.
This was Coco in her element, and I’d never get tired of watching her create something beautiful out of simple ingredients.
“You gonna stand there all morning or come help me?” she asked without turning around, that smile clear in her voice.
“You are so hard-headed.”
“You knew that though,” she glanced over her shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief, “I wanted to make my husband breakfast.”
She moved around the kitchen, robe hanging off one shoulder, slippers dragging. I crossed the kitchen in three steps, sliding my arms around her waist from behind. She leaned back against my chest, and I pressed my face into her neck, breathing in that scent that had become home to me.
“Morning, Mrs. Grimson,” I murmured against her skin.
“Mmm, I like the sound of that. Even better the second time around.”
“What you making?”
“Eggs, bacon, breakfast potatoes. And…” she nodded toward the counter, “I made you some waffles.”
I looked at the plate, then at her. I’d told her once in passing that I liked waffles better than pancakes. Didn’t think she was listening.
“What? You don’t like the breakfast?” She started to turn in my arms, worried.
“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Her expression softened.
And that was the thing about Coco that I loved the most. She insisted on taking care of me in ways I’d never experienced.
Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
She saw me the man. I was just Lesley to her, a man worthy of love and all things good.
Worthy of Coco. I didn’t trust easily, but had learned to trust her completely.
“Come on, let’s eat outside.”
She carried our plates out, and the way I relaxed needed to be studied.
We ate on the terrace overlooking the ocean, her feet propped in my lap, both of us stealing glances at the beach where we’d gotten married a little over twenty four hours ago.
I could still see it all in my mind. The way she’d looked walking toward me on my father’s arm.
The way her voice shook when she said her vows.
The way she’d kissed me in front of God and everybody. There was nothing fake about this.
“What you thinking about?” she asked, catching me staring.
“How you looked in that dress. How different I felt after.”
“Different how?”
I set my fork down. “ The first time felt like signing a contract. Necessary business. Last night felt like...” I paused, searching for the right words. “Like us choosing each other. That’s what you said you wanted right. To be chosen?”
She went quiet, and I thought maybe I’d said too much. But then she smiled, that soft smile that was just for me.
“I love you, Lesley Grimson.”
“I love you too, Colecion Grimson.”
We finished eating in silence, and the waves crashed around us. When she rose to clear the dishes, I caught her wrist.
“Leave it.”
“But—”
“Leave it. Come here.”
She let me pull her onto my lap, settling sideways across my thighs with her arms around my neck. This close, I could see the faint marks I’d left on her throat the night before, could smell my cologne mixing with her perfume on her skin.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“For what?”
“For listening. For seeing what I needed even when I didn’t know how to ask for it.” She traced patterns across my chest with her fingertip. “I’ve never had anyone pay attention to me like that. Never had anyone care enough to remember the little things.”
“I plan on spoiling you for the rest of our lives.”
“Is that a promise, Mr. Grimson?”
“That’s a guarantee.”
She laughed, and the sound sank into my bones like music. This was what I’d been missing my whole life without knowing it—not just a woman to come home to, but someone who saw past the reputation, the money, the carefully built walls, to the man underneath who just wanted to be loved.
“So what’s the plan for today?” she asked, playing with the chain around my neck.
“No plan. Just you, me, this villa, and until we gotta fly out.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Good. Because “We need to christen this marriage again. I don’t think we did it right last night.”
She grinned, that mischievous look I’d fallen for sparking in her eyes. “Is that right?”
“That’s right. Matter fact…” I stood, lifting her with me as she squealed in surprise, clinging to my shoulders.
“Lesley!” she gasped, pounding a fist against my chest. “Put me down.”
“Hell nah. We’ve got all day, and I plan on using every minute.”
I laid her across the bed and hovered over her. Her laughter faded. Her robe slipped when she shifted, silk sliding off one shoulder, and I took my time watching her body tell me everything I needed to know before I even touched her.
“You think I’m playing?” I asked, tugging the robe open inch by inch. “I told you, Coco, we didn’t get it right last night. I didn’t make enough of a mess.”
I stripped the silk away completely and bent to mark her throat again—deeper this time, she liked that shit. Her hands came up to push at me, but I caught her left wrist, kissed the diamond flashing on her finger, then pressed her palm against the headboard.
“Keep that right there where I can see it,” I murmured.
I dragged my mouth lower, slow enough to make her squirm. Her perfume gave way to the clean warmth of her skin, every kiss leaving a trail of heat. She tried to twist away, half laugh, half gasp, but I pinned her hip down.
“Don’t run,” I said against her stomach.
Her breath sharpened, and when I dipped lower, her whole body jolted. The sound she made—soft, breaking, defiant—shot straight through me. I teased her on purpose, pulling back just when she thought I’d given her everything, then coming back with more pressure.
“Baby…” Her voice cracked around my name, pleading. She tried to cover her mouth, tried to arch away. She couldn’t escape the sounds tearing out of her. I caught her waist and pulled her down flat.
I flipped her, guiding her onto her knees. She braced against the headboard, back arched, the wing inked across her skin flexing with every breath. I caressed her ass slowly. I was mesmerized. My palms spread wider, before giving one cheek a sharp slap that made her jolt.
“Ass up, baby.”
“Ouu,” she cooed.
“Yeah,” I muttered, kneeling behind her. “That’s the view I wanted.”
I stroked my dick, easing it in and out of her juicy entrance; my dick jumped seeing the creamy mixture glistening.
“Baby, please,” she begged, scooting against me, causing her to drop her hand.
“What’d I say, Co? I want you watching your hand while I beat this pussy up.” I pulled her hand up, pressed it back against the headboard with the other. Her ring flashed in the dim light, and I smiled at the sight of it.
Her hips lifted, her rhythm stuttered, and her back arched.
“Grim,” she breathed, body betraying her as she moved against me.
“You know I love that shit.”
“I know…ouuu,” she cooed when I slid in completely. She clamped down hard, making me slow my stroke to hold it together. The wetter she got, the harder I did. Every time.
I reached for the pina colada oil on the nightstand and poured it over her ass. Massaged it in until she was rocking side to side, tempting me like a damn snake charmer.
“You so beautiful, baby. Sexy ass.”
Each thrust hit her spot, her gasps letting me know I was doing exactly what needed to be done. I leaned over, one hand teasing her clit, the other flicking her nipple until she cried out.
“That feels so good.”
“You wet as fuck, girl. Shit.”
Her walls clenched around me, and I pulled out long enough to bite down her back, her ass, tasting the sweet oil on her skin. It had my nose wide open, ready to drown in her.
“Come sit on my face, baby.”
She grinned, surprising me by spinning into a 69. Like two hungry fools, we devoured each other until she shattered again. I didn’t let up. I gripped her ass, spread her open, and went harder. Her mouth and hand worked my length until she was coming apart all over again.
I shifted, pulled her down onto me, and the growl that escaped her throat sent me over the edge. My grip on her hips tightened as I drove into her, moving her up and down my dick until she was winding her hips, tightening around me, taking me deeper.
Her face was a masterpiece—messy, beautiful, mine.
“No sir, open your eyes and look at me,” she panted, teasing her own nipples.
I grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close until our mouths almost touched. Her ring pressed cold against my chest, metal against skin. She was my wife for real.
“That’s it, baby. That’s forever. You hear me? Forever.”
With a few more strokes, we were both exploding.
The sun climbed higher outside our windows, the ocean kept its eternal rhythm, and life was moving on without us. None of that mattered. All that mattered was the woman in my arms and the life we were building together.
For the first time in forty years, I wasn’t thinking about the next move, the next deal, the next problem that needed solving. I was exactly where I wanted to be, with exactly who I wanted to be with.
And that was enough—more than enough.
That was everything.