Chapter 15 #4
"Hey."
She opened one eye to look at him and thought he looked like a wet seal.
"Thought you were sleeping." He pulled her under again. Wrapping her arms and legs around his waist, she allowed herself to just drift, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Tired?"
"Euphoric," she murmured. "And surprisingly hungry," she added with a laugh.
"Let's go eat." He waded back to shore with her still wrapped around him and spread the towels before opening the basket.
"Oh, my goodness!" Her eyes popped wide open as she surveyed what was there. Golden-brown drumsticks, cold jumbo shrimp, slices of yellow mango, cheeses, huge chunks of watermelon, a tall flask of lemonade, and, of course, a bottle of champagne.
"Hope you have a big appetite." He popped the cork on the champagne and poured it into two flutes. Handing her one, he touched his glass to hers. "To us."
"To us," she repeated solemnly.
They made pigs of themselves and had to lie down because they were so full. Darkness was descending even though the air was still mildly sultry. A strong breeze was coming off the sea and had dried their skin.
Rolling over onto his stomach, Zane gazed at his wife and felt the familiar tug of love and passion deep inside.
"What're you doing?" Her eyes popped wide when he tugged the string of her bikini, exposing her breasts. "Zane, we're out in the open," she protested.
"We're isolated." He inched forward and sat up so that he was cupping her breasts. "And I've been dreaming of making love with my wife since I left the reception."
"We made love on the plane," she reminded him.
"It does not count." He was already torturing her by playing with her nipples.
"But-"
"Hush." Bending, he seized her lips and kissed her so thoroughly, it had her head spinning. Shifting, he covered her body with his.
"Zane," she whispered, her hands going around his neck. "I love you."
Emotions stormed through him and left him weak. Ending the kiss, he trailed his lips over her cheek and down her throat, where the pulse was beating like a maddened thing.
By the time he got to her nipples, she was writhing, her reluctance and fear of making love out in the open disappearing. Heat swamped her; desire was like a tornado moving rapidly through her body.
A gasp escaped her, and she had to anchor herself by gripping the edges of the towel when his mouth toyed with her intimate core.
Stars dotted the now velvety sky. Somewhere nearby, birds were calling, and the sound of the waves crashing intermingled with the moans and cries as the orgasm exploded through her body, leaving her weak and spent.
But he was not through with her yet, not by a long shot.
Scooting upward, he peeled off his cargo shorts and covered her body, driving into her until she could feel every inch of him.
"Don't close your eyes," he ordered harshly. "I want to see the look in them when I bring you over again."
"I can't." Her hands were clenched on his chest, her body still vibrating.
"You can and you will." To make certain of it, he started moving slowly, in and out, gliding out until the tip of him was at her entrance and then plunging in until her body arched from the strength of it.
She cried out again, his name on her lips as the climax slammed into her, taking everything and leaving her weak and trembling.
It was only then that he let go and allowed himself the release that was begging to break free.
Rolling to the side, he brought her with him until she was sprawled on top of him. Using the extra towel, he covered them both, arms wrapped around her.
And then in silence, they watched the pretty sky with the scattering of stars and a full moon that bathed everything silver.
*****
They explored Negril, chatting with the locals, and were charmed by the accent and the words they were not able to understand.
And he bought her gifts, little things like bamboo earrings in the island colors of black, green, and gold, and kaftans with the same blend of colors.
They walked the streets and ate sugar cane from vendors.
He made her proud by handing out money to the homeless on the streets and to the children scattered around.
And they would go back to their little slice of heaven, where he would spend the time making love to her until she was delirious with pleasure.
He surprised her by having the pilot take them into Kingston to visit the Bob Marley Museum, where he bought her T-shirts with the emblems of the famous reggae artist emblazoned on the front, in every color there was.
Each time she exclaimed over a souvenir, he included it in the package.
He also charmed the attendants and sales reps by trying to speak patois, the local dialect.
"You sound ridiculous," she told him with a laugh.
"You know that's not true, mon." He grinned at her as he mimicked the locals.
"You're an idiot."
Turning her into his arms, he kissed her long and lingeringly, causing the people in the store to cheer.
They visited Emancipation Walk, with the sun beating down on their heads. He had bought her a straw hat, which he jammed on her head when she complained of the heat.
They bought patties, a local delicacy that reminded her of their own American pot pie, tasty meat wrapped in a flaky pastry that was decidedly spicy. They stopped at Devon House, where they had Devon stout ice cream.
He treated her to the local cuisine when they returned to Negril.
Instead of taking her to a five-star restaurant, he bought food from an old, wizened woman with a stained apron tied around her waist and a wide smile on her creased face.
Her first taste of ackee and saltfish, their national dish, had her eyes widening in pleasure.
And at night, he would make love to her on the beach and inside their cozy bedroom. It was the most fun she had ever had in her entire life, and she told him so.
"You've made this very special," she murmured.
They were spending their last night at the cottage and were sitting on a towel on the soft white sand. She lay back against his chest, utterly contented, his arms wrapped securely around her.
"I hope you know that this is not the end," he told her, nuzzling her neck.
His need for her was so intense, he wondered how he didn't just burn to a crisp.
He had watched her during the two weeks and took pleasure in surprising her.
He loved to see her laugh and marveled at how much she had changed.
Turning her head, she gazed at him. His hair was loose and blowing in the slightly chilly January breeze. They had spent Christmas in Jamaica and had drunk sorrel, a rich red beverage with a touch of wine and ginger. "You mean even when we return home, the honeymoon will still be going on?"
"Absolutely." His tawny eyes studied her face. "I want us to take frequent trips."
"I have a career and so do you," she pointed out.
"And I refuse to allow that to stop us from spending time with each other." His expression was sober. "That's important to me, darling. Promise me that we will not end up slaving at our respective careers and forgetting what's really important."
Tilting her head up, she kissed him on the lips. "That's a promise that's easy to keep."
"Good." His eyes darkened. "How about we spend the last few hours in bed?"
"That's a change."
Grinning, he swung her into his arms. "I think the sand is getting into places I prefer to keep clean and free from debris."
"I totally agree." Winding her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes and sighed in complete contentment.
*****
Seven months later, their son, Zachary Gregory, was born on a hot and humid day in July. The pregnancy was thankfully easy, and the labor lasted only six hours.
Now she was home, and with all the visitors gone, they were finally alone with their son.
Her mother had been emotional, hardly wanting to hand him over to the rest of the family, and had offered her babysitting services whenever they needed her. "I know you can more than afford to hire a nanny, but I'm here."
Zane's parents and sister had echoed the sentiment. In fact, they had designed a nursery at the manor for when the baby came over to spend some time with them.
"Are you going to put him down anytime soon?" Propped up among the pillows, Kara sent her husband an indulgent smile.
"I don't think I told you properly how much I appreciate you.
" His voice was thick, his loving gaze sliding from his son to her.
A jolt went straight through him as he took her in.
She was wearing a sensible blue and white cotton robe with buttons at the front that made it easy for her to breastfeed their son, and had never looked more beautiful.
"The emerald and ruby necklace not thanks enough?" she asked him teasingly.
"Nothing I can ever do will ever be thanks enough." Rocking his son gently in his arms, he finally went to put him in the cot and drew the blanket over him. "He's perfect."
"Let's hope you continue to think that way when he's into his terrible twos." She made room for him on the bed and just snuggled, inhaling his masculine scent.
"He'll always be perfect, because you are." Tipping her face up, he kissed her slowly. "You've given me everything I never thought I needed."
Her eyes misted. Lifting a hand, she cupped his hair-roughened cheek. "And you changed my life in ways I never imagined. Thank you."
"We changed each other." Kissing the tip of her nose, he held her close and sent up a silent prayer of gratitude.