“That was just mean,” I protest, unfastening the seatbelt and sliding off his lap. Securing his jacket in place, I pull my belt tighter as he tries to wrestle his raging hard-on into his jeans. I can’t help my smile as he struggles to conceal his massive erection and notices my smirk.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think it’s fair. I mean it. You’ve ruined me completely with that grand gesture, and not just tonight—forever.” I blow out a harsh breath. “I hope you’re happy.”
His smile broadens as he wins the battle with his jeans before he grips my hand and begins kissing my fingertips.
“Stop smiling, you ass. There’s no undoing this.”
“Good.”
I snag his hair and pull gently. “You better mean that.”
“I’m about to pledge my life to you—proof enough?”
“We’re really doing this?”
Determination takes residence in his tone. “Fuck yeah, we are. Reckless and stupid maybe, but stupid happy.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Unable to help myself, I climb back onto his lap and start to shower him with kisses. “You,” kiss, “told,” kiss, “everyone,” kiss, “that you love me,” kiss. “The world.”
“Hold up, baby,” he says, jostling me on his lap.
“Nope, we’re decent enough,” I fire back while continuing my kisses as he chuckles.
“Hold still, Beauty. Just for a second,” he muses, trying to juggle me as I turn to see that he’s plucked his favorite black star pinky ring between his fingers. I stare at it before he grips my left hand and pushes the ring on—the fit perfect—my eyes misting before looking back at him.
“Just until we pick up something else.”
“I don’t care,” I exclaim. Giddy, I screech out my bliss before continuing my assault, drawing another laugh out of him. “I love you,” I murmur, working my way along his jaw, his neck, the hollow of his throat. He snakes his arms around me and lures me back into a slow, exploratory kiss which quickly sets us both ablaze. I pant into his mouth, grinding against him before belting out my demand.
“Fuck me,” I murmur. “Fuck me right now, and make love to me later.”
“I’ll do both later. Jesus, Beauty, we have to stop. We’re about to pull up to the hotel.” I groan as he gently lifts me by the hips and deposits me back into my seat. He rakes his lip, eyeing my heaving chest and the flush in my skin. “I promise I’ll make the wait worth it.”
“Jesus, Easton, as if I need anything other than what you’ve already given me.”
“It’s only going to get better,” he assures me as we straighten ourselves while we approach the hotel. The second we’re stopped, the back door to the limo opens, and a valet greets us warmly. Behind the valet, I get a glimpse of sliding glass doors just as Easton grips the door handle. “Not yet, man, thanks.” Easton turns to me, his finger on the partition button. “Tonight?”
“Yes,” I nod repeatedly. “Yes.”
Joel comes into view and glances back in the rearview at the two of us. My neck heats as Easton speaks up.
“Hey man, change of plans. Just grab our bags and check us out. We’re going back to the jet.”
“Yeah?” Joel turns back, grinning between the two of us. “Where are we off to?”
“You tell me, best man,” Easton declares, brushing his thumb along my newly occupied ring finger while holding it up for his perusal.
Joel’s eyes widen, his smile amping. “Vegas it is.”
Frowning at our destination, Easton glances over at me, a plan clearly forming behind his eyes. “You know what, man? I have a much better idea.”
I exchanged vows with my supernova while the rest of the hovering stars lay witness, enviously blinking before fading into dawn. Easton pushed the matching black titanium wedding band onto my finger just as the sun peeked over the horizon. Though our ceremony was simple, and our traditional vows have been recited countless times by others before us—it was still uniquely ours.
While Joel checked them both out and gathered their luggage, Easton conducted a brief internet search, keeping me out of arm’s reach, and his private loop by shielding his phone from me. By the time we got to the idling plane, he solidified the plans, only sharing them with Joel. We touched down at a private airstrip in Arizona just after one in the morning. The next few dizzying hours were an array of unanswered questions, my questions, as Joel and Easton gathered what and who we needed to elope. The patience I kept during those clueless hours paid off the second Easton led me from the back of another SUV.
Easton’s idea had been to unify us beneath a glittering sky, rather than neon lights, in a far more private part of the desert.
Our guest list short—Joel, a local officiant, and a pastor Easton managed to bribe out of bed by paying off a good portion of their mortgages. Between the look in Easton’s eyes, the sincerity in his voice, and our starlight to sunrise wedding, his vision easily superseded anything I could have ever dreamt up.
It fit.
It was us.
It was perfect.
The point was driven home further within the length of a song. A song I requested Joel play as he whisked us toward our resort. The song Easton serenaded me with before proposing. A song now embedded into my heart’s playlist alongside the others that mark the milestones between us.
Too overcome with excitement to sleep but every bit in a dreamlike state, Easton carried me over the threshold of what could only be described as a honeymooner’s paradise. Nested into a ridiculous four thousand square feet, our private, two-story, adobe-style villa at the resort felt constructed from a dream. It was clear Joel came through again in a major way—plush furniture, the best linens, a fireplace, a jacuzzi, an outdoor hot tub, and windows that gave way to spectacular views.
Not that it mattered where we were the second we were alone.
Within a minute, maybe two, of closing the door, Easton laid me down on a soft white bed and proceeded to kiss every inch of my skin before we consummated our marriage in the most incredible way. Wedding rings clinked together next to my head on the mattress, and my husband’s love-filled eyes bored into mine. We quickly lost all sense of time as he brought me to completion over and over again before he succumbed himself. Early morning light fully invaded our piece of desert paradise before Easton and I finally spent ourselves to the point that exhaustion took over. After a shower, I barely remember being ushered back into bed before Easton blacked out the sunlight, and I sank into a blissful coma.
Staring at the black titanium band on my finger, I’m warmed by the memory of rousing to his kiss as he pressed worshipful lips to my occupied ring finger before pressing into me, whispering, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Crowne.”
Glancing over at Easton now, I soak in the gravity of what my ring means, unable to summon any regret. Thick hair whipping around his face, Ray-Bans shielding his eyes from the desert sun, Easton navigates the winding road, both hands on the wheel. My eyes pause on the thicker black band on his left hand as I mentally pinch myself. Though I wanted to stay in bed for more consummation, Easton insisted on driving me through the backdrop he’d chosen for our honeymoon. Forcing my gaze away from my husband, I marvel at the terracotta-smeared mountains and clustered boulders of a similar shade that make up the Sedona landscape.
Breathing in the reality that today, I woke up Easton’s bride, I can’t help the joyful tears that fill my eyes as I slide my thumb along my newly christened ring finger.
“It’s so beautiful, Easton.”
And hot.