“I’m going to miss the kids. I hope Brayden will be okay staying with Mum and Dad.”
“He’ll be fine,” I reassure her, squeezing a little tighter, when truth be told, I have the same uncertainties.
We both take a seat at our table, and Alexis puts her arms out for Brayden who is sitting on Graeme’s lap. “Give Mummy a big cuddle, BB,” she mumbles into his neck as they bear-hug each other.
I automatically clench both my fists together, that being a natural reaction to the annoying nickname. But unfortunately, due to underestimating her ability to pull one over on me—and as it stands at this point in time—that bloody nickname is not going anywhere.
“You be a good boy for Nanny and Poppa, and Mummy and Daddy will see you in a couple of weeks, okay?”
“He’ll be fine, Darling. Poppa has some ‘farmy stuff’ we can do to keep us busy, don’t we, Bray?” Graeme explains, using his code for farm slavery.
“I am not cleaning out the chicken coop again. That was disgusting!” Charli complains.
“I’ll mow the lawns,” Nate pipes in, knowing that particular job comes with driving the ride-on mower.
Graeme laughs. “See, they’ll be fine. Go and enjoy yourselves.”
We hug all three kids and say goodbye before walking through a guard of honour.
“Are you gonna tell me where are we going yet?” Alexis asks as she unlatches her seat belt when Paul—the captain of the plane—informs us we can do so.
Following suit, I remove my belt and stand up. “No. You’ll find out when we get there.”
“Fine, I won’t tell you my surprise then,” she pouts with a smile.
I offer her my hand and pull her up, flush with my chest.
“Thank you,” she says like a stubborn child and then turns her back to me. I follow closely behind as she walks toward the bedroom, and even though she is clearly shitty due to my refusal to disclose our location, her leading me to our bed is evidence she still wants to make love. I smirk at her cuteness and then place my hand at the top of her arse, firmly guiding her.
She instantly pulls away and winces, side stepping from me and displaying an expression of discomfort.
“What’s wrong, Hunny?” I ask while reaching for her hand.
“Nothing,” she responds with a fake smile, now stepping backward toward the room.
“Alexis, why did you just flinch when I touched you?”
“Bryce, where are we going?” she answers my question with a question, frustration in her tone.
Her defiance sparks a surging level of adrenaline to course through my body and, together with my increasing need to make love as husband and wife, has me stalking her predatorily while displaying a hungry expression.
Noticing my lascivious prowl, she backs herself into the room, inevitably jailing herself. “Bryce...” she says with less conviction. “...tell me where we are going.”
I shake my head from side to side, slam the bedroom door behind me then remove the space between us.
Now holding her body against the wall with my own, I pose my question again, deliberately breaking it down for her. “Why,” I whisper into her ear. “Did,” I say, breathing into her neck “You,” I growl, as I lick the tops of her cleavage. “Flinch?” I ask as I spin her around and splay her hands against the wall.
Her fingers claw into the panels as I press my erection against her arse. “Where are we going?” she probes again, still persistently holding her own.
Her fight has me hard as a fucking rock. “Fine, have it your way,” I advise, as I slowly unzip the back of her dress.
Alexis changed out of her wedding gown right before we left for the airport, her attire now a red mid- length strapless number.
I finish undoing the zipper and begin to peel the dress from her body when she stops me. “Bryce, wait!” Sucking in a breath, she turns her head to the side and closes her eyes as she exhales. “I love you.”
By this point, I have a pretty good idea of what she has done, and to tell you the truth, I’m fucking excited to see exactly what she chose. “Hunny,” I say as I remove her dress completely, letting it fall to the ground, “I love you, too.”
Taking a step backward, I spot the freshly inked area at the base of her back. It looks a little raw. Dropping to my knees, and now face-level with her tattoo, I take in the scripted name and picture.
“Brylexis,” I read aloud, as I trace the letters without touching the mark.
Under our name is a picture of a star.
“Do you like it?” she asks, clearly hesitant.
“Yes,” I hiss.
She breathes out as her body relaxes. “Oh thank God!”
Gripping her arse cheeks with both my hands, I lean forward and trail my tongue around the area, prompting her to tense up again and suck in another breath.
“I love it,” I growl.
Alexis widens her stance just a little, and that slight opening of her legs—an invitation to deepen my exploration—sets a fire within me. I can’t help myself and grip her G-string, tearing it apart before nipping and biting at her soft rear.
“Oh, God, Bryce,” she moans.
“Turn around,” I demand, my tone not one to be argued with.
Slowly, she does as she told, and even though I love her tenacity at times, her submission is also just as pleasing.
Now staring at her naked flesh before me, I wet my lips in preparation for her taste, fervently anticipating our union.
“Foot,” I request, keeping my eyes on her moist pussy.
She obliges and lifts her heeled foot, placing it on my knee. While I remove her shoe, I trail my tongue up and down her leg, tantalising every nerve ending I possibly can.
“Other one,” I demand, repeating the same action.
With her shoes discarded, I lean forward and lash her clit with my tongue then trail it up her abdomen, in between her breasts until I’m at her mouth. I bend down, slide my arm behind her thighs, and lift her into my arms.
“Where are we going, Mr. Clark?”
“To the bed, Mrs. Clark.”
Almost instantly, I feel my bottom lip between her teeth as she holds onto it, stretching it slightly and taking it with her while pulling away from my face. Her eyes display a mischievous retribution as she lets go, the feeling both mildly uncomfortable, yet erotic.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she says with a slightly annoyed tone.
“I know nothing of which you speak.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“No, I don’t. Not right now.”
Laying her down on the bed, I climb over the top of her and look deep into crystal clear blue eyes that reveal her inner most feelings—when I pay attention to them, they never lie.
“Not right now?” I question, leaning forward to tenderly kiss her lips.
Pulling away from her perfectly, fucking, kissable lips, I wait for her answer.
“No,” she answers, her response obviously artificial.
I swipe her peaked nipple with my tongue before sucking on it, deliciously. “How about now?” I prompt.
“Uh ah,” she answers on an intake of air.
“Hmmm. No?” I mumble as I switch breasts only to tweak with my fingertips the wet hard nipple I just
