By the time I get back to my bride, I find her sprawled out on the bench surrendered to sleep. It’s extremely early, or late, depending on how you view four in the morning. The night has ended earlier than I anticipated. I scheduled our sailing at six am when I thought Rayna and I would be exhausted from lovemaking.
I lift my wife in my arms and make my way down to our cabin. She’s so deep in sleep she barely stirs while I transported her. I’m relieved when I notice she’s wearing nothing more than what can be perceived as a slip, I don’t have to change her, just slip her sandals from her beautiful feet. I strip down to my boxers, no longer feeling intoxicated by alcohol but that of exhaustion of my wedding day. I pull a comforter from the closet and swing it open in the air for it to land on my sleeping beauty. I crawl underneath, pulling my wife so close to me that there’s no air between the two of us.
My wife. Shit. I can get used to this.
Hours later, my consciousness rouses. My body isn’t prepared, but my mind is ready to awaken. I’m nearly delirious with fatigue. It takes me a few moments to gather myself. My eyes wearily peruse the cabin, and that’s when I think of her. Her scent permeates the beddings causing me to search the room again. Rayna is nowhere to be found. Yet.
I struggle into the bathroom to shower and clean my mouth. How I was able to sleep through Rayna leaving the bed is beyond me. Excitement grows in my belly at the realization of having her with me for the next week, in the middle of nowhere, going everywhere. After slipping on a pair of Hanro lounge pants, I take off to the deck. I catch a deck crewmember leaving the front deck, twirling an empty tray in his hands.
“Mr. Jacobs, good afternoon,” he nods, showing the deep part in his brown hair. “I just brought Mrs. Jacobs fresh fruit and coffee. What can get for you?”
Still out of it from a long night and a lack of sleep, I answer, “Just my wife for now. Perhaps something later.” I still need to wake up.
“Very well, sir,” he murmurs before walking off.
I head in the direction from which he came. There isn’t a cloud in sight, but the sun is glaring and the wind is peaceably forceful. I see nothing in front of the boat but open marine, the same for behind. The motors underneath creates a rhythmic humming. It feels great being at sea.
After several steps, I catch my first glance of her. She’s lying down on her belly, the delicate fabric of her white long peasant gown…that I discover as I draw closer is completely sheer. I turn my head momentarily back to the direction the crewman who’s just left, wondering if he got a glimpse of her lush flesh underneath the transparent fabric. Her head is facing the breeze, so the material blows down towards her feet for the most part, but underneath I can make out the contour of her curves.
“Close your mouth, Jacobs,” Rayna’s lighthearted reprimand jolts me from my introspect. She smiles serenely as her hand tents over her sunglasses to block the sun. My dick has no problem awakening. The image of her makes every penny I’ve paid for this excursion worth it.
Rayna. My wife. Goddamn.
My mouth closes mechanically, I swallow hard, and then I jerk my chin towards her, “You naked underneath?”
She takes a moment to observe her appearance, almost as though she has no clue what’s jarred me. “Maybe…maybe not,” she shrugs before returning to her stomach and digging into her bowl of fruit.
I join her, laying to her left to see what has her attention. She has a magazine pinned open with the bowl.
“You’ve left me already?” I tease.
“I was too excited to sleep restfully.” She pops a blueberry in her mouth, and then offers me a strawberry, to which I oblige. “Can you believe we’re married?”
While laying on my side and resting my head on my arm, I nod my head soberly. You’re damn right. She cracks a smile as though she can read my thoughts.
Her eyes, suddenly filled with adoration, make their way to me. I can see through the tint in her sunglasses, thanks to the glaring sun. “Thanks for such an unforgettable day, Azmir. I couldn’t have asked for anything better…couldn’t have dreamt up anything more spectacular.”
My heart expands at those words. I’ve only wanted to make Rayna happy. To give her the world I’ve abound is what I recall telling her in my bathroom, right after our return from Atlantic City. That’s still my mission. Her intense expression tells me I’m headed in the right direction. I swipe an errant clump of hair out of her face. I can tell that she’s showered and washed her hair from yesterday, allowing it to air dry.
I don’t speak much, content in her merriment.