He followed me and his arms wound around my waist, pulling me close. Casually, he kissed my neck as the wind whipped my long hair around my face.
I turned my head and pressed my lips against his.
It would be one last night. One more night of playing this sordid game.
I was going to enjoy myself and by the time the sun rose in the morning, I would be gone.
* * *
Dean didn’t want to rush to our wedding night. Instead, he insisted on taking me to a candlelit white tablecloth dinner at the fancy restaurant complete with freshly caught seafood and the best crème brûlée I’d ever had the privilege to taste. He fed me bites of his dinner and I fed him some of mine. We talked about our visions of the future, what we wanted in our house together, the places in the world I wanted to see, anything and everything and in the end, nothing really at all because those weren’t my dreams.
They were all his dreams. Perfectly tailored responses that I’d prepared just for him long before tonight.
When the dinner ended, we walked along the beach back to our bungalow under the romantic glow of the moon and the endless glittering stars in the sky. It was slow and punctuated by long patches of silence, but it felt natural all the same.
His fingers on mine were like a breath of fresh air. For a while, I allowed myself to pretend it was all real because I genuinely enjoyed his company. Would this be what it felt like to be married? Is this what it would be like to be happy?
When we returned to the bungalow, the main floor was awash in flickering candlelight and when we walked up the wooden spiral staircase, I gasped at the rose petals strewn all over the surface of the plush white comforter on the massive king-sized bed. It was all very romantic. Even a girl like me could appreciate something like this.
Dean’s fingers flittered along the naked skin of my throat until he wrapped his arms around my chest and pulled me close. I sighed and breathed in the scent of him, his citrusy cologne enveloping me in a warm embrace that settled me, at least for the moment.
I’d remember that scent. I’d remember all of this.
Just one last night. I’d enjoy all of this for just one night.
His hands were gentle as he grasped the edges of my thin sweater. I was intensely aware of the threadbare fabric scraping along my skin, every single nerve on fire from the promise of his touch.
When it came to Dean, I’d faked a lot of things, but never this. When it came to our physical chemistry, the two of us were fire. Many of my marks were clumsy and quite terrible in bed, but not him. Never him.
With every touch, he made me catch my breath. Every kiss left me begging for more.
He was a man obsessed with making me orgasm. He’d always said I was the prettiest when I came for him and that made this particular job more enjoyable than all the others.
His movements were sweet as he slowly removed my clothes. He didn’t rush as he turned me to face him, just lightly dragging his fingers along my skin. His touches were teasing, and my nipples pebbled hard beneath the safety of my bra.
I reached for him and he brushed my hands away gently.
“I want to see you first. Will you let me?” he asked, and I bit my lip. Hesitantly, I nodded, and I let him do as he pleased. He’d never hurt me, and he was always exceptionally sweet, so I trusted him.
Shame he couldn’t trust me.
He lifted my shirt over my head, and I shuddered as a chill raced over my skin. It was quite warm, so it wasn’t from the cold. Instead, it was intricately connected to the look in his eyes as they danced over the bare skin of my belly.
I smirked and teasingly traced my fingers over the shadow along his jaw, feeling the rough edges of his growing beard. It was short, but long enough so that when he dragged it along my skin, I shivered with need.
I was going to enjoy this.
He slid those knowledgeable hands behind my back, unclipping my bra with ease. I shuddered hard and his fingers dipped down to push my flowy cotton pants down my hips.
“White lace. Very becoming on my bride,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. I moaned softly, stepping out of my sandals as he pushed my slacks down to my ankles. I lifted one foot and then the other as he helped me climb out of them.
In just my panties now, I stepped away from him and sat down on the bed. He watched me with a quizzical look as I slid back amongst the flower petals. Leaning back on my elbows, I spread my legs, putting myself on display for him.
His gaze was electric. It only took that single look to set my skin on fire with fervent need.
I smiled and cocked my head.
He took a step toward the bed. For a moment, his eyes turned dark, and I could have sworn I saw a flash of anger cross his features, although it was gone before I could be sure. It was so unlike him that I sat up an inch to look closer, but he was already kneeling at the end of the bed with fingers sliding along my thighs and a wicked grin on his lips.
“You’re such a tease, my pretty bride,” he said, and I cocked my head with a smirk.
“Perhaps,” I answered, and he slipped his hands up around my hips. Boldly, he jerked my underwear down, and the fabric pinched me
