HisMarriageBargain Page 6

  Sammi’s hands rested on her hips, neither pulling her closer nor pushing her away. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do—”

  “No one is making me do anything, Sammi. Now does a bride really have to beg for a fucking kiss on her damn wedding day?”

  He cracked that gorgeous smile and his arms drew her just a little closer to him, one coasting up to rest against her bare shoulders. “There’s no begging involved.”

  Autumn almost stopped breathing as his head dipped to hers.

  “Good,” she whispered.

  The first touch of his lips against hers sent an electric pulse through her body, right down to her toes. She curled them in the sand and pulled him down closer. She opened her mouth slightly and sucked his lower lip. His grip on her waist tightened—and he kissed her back.

  She wanted more. Wanted to kiss him passionately, strip him out of those clothes and explore that sculpted, hot body she’d kept her hands off. But they were on a public beach.

  Autumn rocked back on her heels, dazed.

  She wanted to do that again, and more. Soon.

  Sammi stared at her, his mouth slightly open and his hair a little mussed.

  “Nice with the foot pop,” Tony called, breaking the moment.

  Autumn glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

  “Perfect. Samuel, lean in, maybe kiss her neck?” Tony moved closer and Lou repositioned, catching the last of the sun’s light.

  “Like this?” Sammi brushed light kisses just under her ear.

  Autumn shivered and her breath caught in her throat. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.

  Tony needed to hurry up with the pictures already.

  They had better things to do.

  * * * * *

  Sammi draped his arm over Autumn’s chair and leaned back. Their two-person wedding party had grown to twelve—those six who’d been part of the wedding ceremony, plus Eleri and Mary’s husbands and another couple on their honeymoon who’d joined them after learning they’d just tied the knot. Their meal was well underway and the wine flowed freely. But he wasn’t drinking. Already a tremor was running through his hands. Alcohol was the last thing he needed, but he didn’t want to break up their happy group.

  “Tell me, Sammi, how does a Persian Jew have a German name?” David asked, arm draped around his wife’s shoulders and his third wineglass in hand.

  Sammi glanced at Autumn, all aglow, maybe from their wedding or the ongoing festivities. “That’s actually a really great story. My father’s mother was a teenager when her family went to Jerusalem. She got lost from her parents and hid in a spice merchant’s wash closet. This young man comes in to relieve himself and there’s a woman in there. He sees she’s scared, introduces himself.

  “Neither speak the same language, they can only piece together a few Hebrew words so they realize they’re both Jewish. What do Jewish people do? They go to the temple. So he takes her hand and together they go to the temple, but along the way her shoe breaks. The young man picks up her shoe, gives her his and they continue along their way.

  “By the time they get to the temple, there’s people following them. They don’t know what’s going on, but everyone’s happy so they keep going. They arrive at the temple and the rabbis are all talking at once, they’re trying to give them wine, and they are both very confused. As it turns out shoes are very important in business proceedings, sometimes betrothals, and the young man found himself accidentally engaged to a young woman he couldn’t understand.

  “Well, they found their families, they were even staying in the same hotel, and over the next few weeks during their stay, they fell in love. And the young man moved to Iran for a girl he barely knew. And he bought her a new pair of shoes for every day of their engagement.” Sammi grinned, recalling how his father would tell the story with excessive gesturing. His grandparents had remained in Iran, so Sammi had never met them before they passed away, but he knew them through his father’s stories.

  “Makes me want to get engaged all over again.” Eleri leaned forward, swirling her wine and sighing dreamily.

  “I think I’m full up on weddings for a few months.” The honeymooning bride shook her head and gave her groom a meaningful look.

  “It was great to do—once,” her groom agreed.

  An elderly woman in a tropical print dress was headed their way as fast as she could pop her cane out there.

  Autumn leaned against Sammi’s side, fitting perfectly to him. “Incoming,” she whispered.

  “Who got married?” the elderly woman asked. She gripped the back of Tony’s chair and glanced around the table.

  “That would be us,” Sammi replied, giving Autumn a squeeze.

  Autumn peeked at him from the corner of her eye and smiled. He wondered if she smiled from the sense of adventure or something more personal. The kiss under the chuppah had knocked him off the high road. He needed to get some better perspective. This was not a marriage founded on love or even romance. Asking for Autumn’s affections was not part of the bargain.

  “Congratulations.” The woman glanced at Autumn. It was hard to tell if she meant it or not.

  “Thank you,” Autumn replied.

  “You can always tell when a wife has a good husband. You can see it on her face. Looks like you’re a good catch.” She winked, either at Autumn or himself, Sammi couldn’t tell. It was an absurd gesture considering the refined way the woman carried herself. He wanted to laugh, but resisted. “Have a bottle of champagne on me, and a bit of advice. ‘Sorry’ isn’t a verb. Don’t expect it to fix things for you.”

  No one spoke for a beat.

  Sammi sat forward. “Thank you, ma’am, we appreciate your generosity.”

  “It’s not my generosity I’m offering.” She grinned then and Sammi felt as if he were playing chicken with a cobra. “Good evening.”

  As abruptly as she’d inserted herself, the woman left.

  The honeymooning bride was the first to speak. “That was…odd.”

  “I think she means her husband is paying for our champagne,” Autumn translated.

  A server appeared with an ice bucket and the proffered gift from their sage well-wisher. The chatter between the guests rose while they were each poured a glass of the bubbling liquid. Truth be told, champagne was one of his least favorite beverages, but some occasions called for it.

  Sammi lifted his glass. “To always knowing when to ask for forgiveness.”

  “And knowing what blowjobs are for,” the honeymooning bride chimed in.

  “Hear, hear.” Autumn lifted her glass higher and the two brides laughed.

  “To never going to bed with a disagreement on the table,” David added. His poor wife had spent the majority of dinner blushing furiously from the candid conversation of the honeymooners. It was telling when Autumn and the hotel help were classier than the guests, but they were harmless.

  “L’chaim,” Sammi interjected before the toast got ridiculously long.

  Everyone clinked glasses and sipped. Or at least most sipped. The two brides chugged theirs in some sort of private drinking contest.

  The other groom leaned across the table and crooked his finger at Sammi. “We were thinking about going to a club down the beach. Interested?”

  Sammi flexed his hand under the table.

  “You’ve got to come with us,” the bride squealed.

  “Oh, that sounds like fun.” Autumn squeezed his thigh. Inwardly Sammi groaned. “I think I’m going to pass though. That 2:00 a.m. wake-up this morning is killing me. Maybe some other time? We’re going to be here for a few days.”

  “One drink. Come for one drink.” The honeymooning bride leaned forward so far her breasts almost fell out the front of her dress.

  “I’m about to pass out right here on my wedding night.” Autumn tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed.

  “I think we’re going to have to go.” Eleri’s husband pulled her chair out for her. “It was a lovely wedding. Blessing
s on both of you.”

  “Eleri, you were my angel today.” Autumn slid out from her chair and hugged the woman and her husband in turn. “Thank you so much for being here tonight too.”

  Sammi turned in his seat, loath to get to his feet yet. They’d taken pictures for an age and his muscles felt weak.

  “We’re going to go too.” Mary and her husband rose, giving Autumn hugs and circling the table to shake his hand.

  “Thank you for helping put this together,” Sammi said to the two women.

  “Not a problem, that’s what we do,” Mary replied with a smile.

  “I think that’s our cue to bid everyone a good night.” David glanced at his wife, who nodded.

  They said more goodbyes, Autumn hugging everyone at least twice. In half a day she’d managed to make lifelong friends. He didn’t know how she did it.

  Sammi pushed his chair back and listened to the honeymooning bride whine at Autumn again. He’d get up. In a minute.

  As the last of their guests wound their way through the tables of the open-air restaurant, Autumn spun to face him. She’d ditched the veil and flowers but she was still the picture of beauty. How she’d put it all together so fast was extraordinary. The credit card bill would probably show the motivating factor for a lot of it, but it had been worth it.

  “So.” Autumn sauntered the few paces to his side and sat down on his lap.

  He shifted so he could hold on to her better. “So what?”

  “Are you happy?” She curled her arms around his neck, her lower lip pinched between her teeth.

  “Hell, yes. Words cannot describe how happy I am—” A yawn sideswiped him and he scrambled to cover his mouth.

  “Don’t do that. I’ve been able to resist yawning!” Autumn covered her mouth and shook her head as a yawn took her.

  “Come on, let’s go upstairs.” He patted her hip.

  They got to their feet slowly and Autumn took his hand. It was late. In a handful of hours they would have been up for a full day and night. It was just too much.

  “How are you feeling?” Autumn asked as they walked under the covered path from the restaurant into the hotel.

  “I think I overdid it today. My muscles are really fatigued.” It was hard to say those words, to admit he wasn’t fine, but it wasn’t as if she were unaware of his condition.

  “Did you try the bathtub? There are massaging jets or something in there. I didn’t know what all the knobs and buttons did.”

  “Oh, they have one of those in the room?” That was a really good idea.

  “Yeah. It’s big enough for like, six people. You could have two three-ways at once.”

  “Or a full-on orgy.”

  Autumn giggled. “Great, now our tub grosses me out.”

  “Whatever. I’ll toss you in it.” He’d spoken the threat off the cuff, but now that he thought about it…

  No, can’t go there.

  Autumn gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I might.” But he wouldn’t. Down that path lay temptation.

  They rode up the elevator in amicable silence, hands still clasped. It felt good to hold on to her.

  “When did you have time to get a ring?” He held up his left hand and examined the band.

  “Don’t give me too much credit. It was a quick department store buy. It’s not fancy or anything.” Though Autumn wore a smile she glanced away down the hall as they walked toward their suite.

  “It doesn’t have to be fancy. I like it. What’s it made out of?”

  “Titanium, I think.”

  “Hey.” He stopped and pulled her around to face him. “I’m serious. I wasn’t expecting you to do any of this. If we’d gotten married in jeans with no rings, I’d still be happy. I really dig the ring. All of it. You did an amazing job.”

  The way her chin thrust forward made him think of a petulant child, except when Autumn did it she was cute. “It wouldn’t have been a real wedding without rings.”

  “I’m glad you got me a ring so this was a real wedding.” He couldn’t help it. He laughed and she glared at him. The fiercer her stare became, the harder he laughed until he was doubled over.

  “It’s not funny.” She slapped his shoulder. A tremor of laughter in her voice betrayed her.

  A door opened behind them and a man snapped out, “Keep it down. Some people are trying to sleep.”

  Sammi glanced over his shoulder and waved at the robe-clad gentleman. “Sorry.”

  “Come on,” Autumn whispered. She pulled him down the hall toward their suite.

  He let them into the room and paused.

  A trail of red rose petals started just past the door and continued into the room, curving to the left toward the bedroom.

  “What is this?” Autumn followed the path.

  Shit.

  The staff must have done this.

  Candles dotted the suite here and there, giving it a romantic glow. The doors to the balcony had been opened so the breeze was fresh, perfumed with flowers.

  Sammi followed in her wake. Another time, this would have been the start to a romantic night. He would have swept her off her feet, peeled the dress off her to the tune of waves hitting the beach before making love to her for hours. That was not this reality.

  This situation was headed to awkwardness, which he’d wanted to avoid.

  “Wow. Sammi, come look at this.”

  He stepped into the bedroom, which had been tidied up in his absence. A heart made out of red-wrapped chocolates and rose petals stood out against the white duvet. Candles again sat on every available surface.

  “Wow,” he said for lack of something better.

  Autumn picked up a piece of the chocolate and began unwrapping it. “It’s nice. A little over the top, but nice.”

  What do I say?

  “There’s got to be something wrong with me, because while this is pretty and all, who do they think is going to have to pick it up? I mean, if we were coming in here to bone on our wedding night we’d have to stop to clean the room.” She shook her head and began brushing the decorations off the bed. “You still want to see if the tub will help?”

  “Uh—sure.”

  She’s amazing.

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Would it help if I gave you a massage? Or do you want to be left alone?”

  Autumn was so innocent in her concern and his mind went straight to the gutter. Her hands, massaging his cock, gripping his shoulders.

  Probably not a good idea.

  “Sure.” Though what he was agreeing to, Sammi wasn’t certain. Let Autumn interpret it how she liked.

  Autumn glanced over her shoulder and smiled. There wasn’t a glimpse of the temptress or flirt he’d seen her dish out on guys she’d dated or had a fling with. It was different, and he liked being on the receiving end.

  Though the bath sounded like a good idea, he didn’t know if he could stay awake that long. Autumn dusted the last of the petals off the bed and deposited them on a nightstand. She stood straight into his arms. They twined around each other, hugging close.

  “Thank you,” he muttered into her hair.

  “You’re welcome.” She hugged him back.

  Barefoot, she fit perfectly under his chin. He squeezed her a little tighter before letting her go.

  “I’ll get the bath going.”

  Sammi sank down on the edge of the bed. He’d get his things together in a moment.

  One of the things he liked about this resort was the quality of the mattresses. They were just right for him.

  He flopped back and stared up at the ceiling.

  He’d get up.

  In a minute.

  Or maybe not.

  Chapter Five

  Clitoral Hood Piercing—Because the clitoris is too small to pierce in most women, the popular alternative is the clitoral hood. It can be placed either vertically or horizontally.

  Autumn woke for what must have been the tenth time that night. The clouds on t
he horizon were a soft gray, heralding the sunrise. She rolled over, careful to do so without jostling the bed too much.

  Sammi slept like a rock. She’d roused him enough to get his help stripping off the shirt and pants he’d been wearing for the wedding, but there was no keeping him awake after that. Whatever was going on with him health-wise, she hoped sleep helped.

  He lay on his side facing her, one arm curled under the pillow crammed against his neck and the other flopped toward her. The sheet was down around his waist, displaying the hip-to-shoulder tattoo she’d finished a month ago. It was mostly black—yuck—swirling, curling baroque-style designs with little details woven through that tied back into his family. As much as she hated working in black and gray, Autumn had to admit it was her best monochromatic tattoo to date. They’d left off discussing his ink with tossing around ideas for the rest of his back, but it seemed that he wasn’t interested in hearing about her ideas for color.

  It was crazy to think she was married.

  To Sammi.

  Her best friend.

  What happened now?

  Autumn wasn’t good at thinking things through. She leapt before she thought. It was her natural state of being, but it had also burned her more than a few times. She wasn’t about to change the decisions that led her to marry him for the world, but maybe she could have asked a few more questions.

  Sammi drew in a deep breath and his face scrunched up. He rubbed his hand through his hair and blinked into the dimness.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  “Hm, hi.” He reached his hand toward her and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

  Damn. Even his touch made her want to sigh.

  “I fell asleep on you, didn’t I?” he mumbled.

  “Yeah, but you needed it.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

  “Okay.” He resituated the pillows and closed his eyes.

  How had they gone from friend territory to him making her weak in the knees?

  Oh right. She’d married him. That’s what happened.

  Autumn sighed and pushed the sheet off. It wasn’t as if they needed it. The weather here was perfect, if humid enough to feel as if she were breathing underwater.