Read More Than Us Online

Authors: Renee Ericson

More Than Us (4 page)

“Run those numbers, baby,” I sigh.

Foster nibbles at my shoulder, sending erotic sensations through me. “Consider them ran. Besides, I only like to get wild with you when it comes to my oats.”

“Your oats can have their way with me.”

“So generous of you.”

“I hope you are willing to return the favor.”

“Stop talking, Evelyn.” Foster skillfully unzips my dress fully. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”

“Equal opportunity orgasm-fest.”

“You’re talking.”

“I ca—”

Foster slams his mouth to mine, sweeping away my breath and stealing my heart for possibly the thousandth time since he’s come into my life. He slips the straps of my dress from my shoulders. I shudder when gravity takes the garment to the ground, and a rich sea breeze floats across my newly bare flesh. My fiancé’s palms trace up my spine and unlatch the lacy bra.

“Foster,” I breathe, raising my chin to give him more space for his mouth to roam along my neck.

A sudden flash of panic races through me, thinking that someone might catch us, but it quickly calms. I have faith that Foster would have ensured we were out of sight from prying eyes. He’s nothing but discreet in all things.

“No talking, Evelyn.” He eases the bra away from my body and tosses it aside. “Are you going to help me, or do I have to do all the work?”

Not uttering a response, I push the jacket from his shoulders, help him out of his shirt, and then make quick work of pushing his pants to the ground where they join the rest of our clothes. Caressing my lower back, Foster nudges me backward until gently laying me on the velvet-textured beach.

Foster hastily shimmies my panties down my legs and then takes off his boxers. He dots kisses up my form and over my belly, and then he pays special attention to my breasts before sealing his mouth to mine once again.

He stops kissing me and raises his head, shifting his eyes all over my features.

Foster requested no talking, but the word, “What?” slips from my mouth.

“I’ll never forget the first day I met you when you walked into the library, dressed in that leather skirt and rock band T-shirt. I thought you were so sexy.”

“Tight leather often has that effect on the male brain.”

“And then you spoke.”

“Hey!” I cry in mock protest.

“And I became…intrigued.”

He grins shyly, and my heart melts with the tenderness of this moment.

“You made it impossible for me
not
to fall in love with you, and it’s going to be impossible for me
not
to love you forever.”

I palm the side of his face, his stubble tickling my skin. “Fozzie.”

“Always.”

Without another word, Foster slowly enters me, filling me with himself and his outpouring of love. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his chest as he continues to rock into me with his gaze never leaving my own.

No words are spoken.

There is no world, only this moment created between us.

FIVE

Foster

I wake before the morning alarm to the sound of the ocean just beyond our room. We left the sliding glass door slightly ajar last night, listening to the waves in the background.

Evelyn’s arm is draped over my bare chest, and her slender fingers are curled around my ribs. I adjust my head on the pillow and gaze at her peaceful features while she slumbers. I study the shape of her mouth and the arch of her brow—everything that is her. I’m such a goner when it comes to this woman.

I could look at her all morning, but we have things to do and places to be. So, I hum Darth Vader’s theme song, “The Imperial March.” That should get her eyes fluttering soon enough.

More than halfway through the tune, Evelyn blinks and then squints as she finally wakes up.

“Morning,” I say, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Sleep well?”

Evelyn stretches her limbs like a cat. “Were you humming Star Wars music?”

“Maybe.”

She eyes me. “Was it that Darth Vader song about his death breath?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Well, that answers that. What time is it?”

“Time to get going.”

“Ugh.” She pouts and scoots under the covers, hiding her face from the world with only her light-blonde hair streaming out over the pillow. “I don’t want to.”

“Evelyn…” I try to lift the duvet from her head, but the woman has one hell of a death grip on it. So, I join her under the sheets and poke at her deliciously tight abs. “Let’s go get wet with everyone.”

“That sounds dirty.”

“We hear what we want to.” I’m able to pry the white cover from her head. “C’mon, let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

She grunts, flings off the bedding from her nude body, struts around the bed, and hovers over me with her arms crossed. Her nipples are especially perky, and now, my dick is hard.
Great.

“This kind of sucks.” she harrumphs.

“What does?”

Pointing at my suitcase next to the door, she says, “That. I’m going to be all alone tonight.”

“Dreaming about me, I’m sure,” I tease, addressing her fake little hissy fit. Then, I pull her down onto the bed with me. “It’s tradition. Think of it like your final alone time before I demand sex from you every single night for the rest of your life.”

“Is that right? Like it’s my wifely duty or something?”

“Like you would complain.” I squeeze her scrumptious ass. “But you should rest up tonight. I’ve been nice these past couple of days, knowing what’s to come, and neither one of us will be able to walk after our honeymoon.”

“That sounds strangely enticing.” She giggles when I grab at her sides.

“I’m fully aware of what you like.”

“Yes, you are, Mr. Blake.” She kisses me on the nose, hops out of bed, and then practically prances into the bathroom, disappearing behind the closed door. Opening it back up, she peeks past the threshold and says, “You’d better hurry up and get in here. We’ll have to shower together if we don’t want to be late. If we are, I’m telling my mother you’re to blame, and you know how much she likes to stay on schedule.”

I hop out of bed and quickly make my way into the bathroom. There’s no way I’m going to pass up the chance to rub Evelyn’s sexy-as-hell wet and lathered body. If she gets clean in the process, so be it.

When I enter the bathroom, the shower is already on, and my fiancée is immersed under the stream of water. I open the glass door and join her.

“The thought of pissing off my mother is motivation for you?” she asks, passing me the soapy loofah before reaching for the shampoo.

I point to my morning wood. “Trust me, your mother is the last thing on my mind right now.”

“Aw, he’s saying good-bye to me.” She squirts some shampoo onto my head and then begins to massage my scalp with her fingertips. “I’ll miss you, too, big guy.”

“Please don’t personify my penis. I don’t need you secretly drawing googly eyes on it and snapping photographs while I’m asleep.”

“It’s not like I would hang them on the wall.” She turns around, and I scrub her back.

“Oh, well then, by all means, go right ahead.” I give her the loofah and turn around, so she can reciprocate the washing. “What was I thinking?”

“Just remember, it was your idea.”

“The best ones usually are.”

We finish showering and then get dressed for the day. Exiting the room, I roll my suitcase behind me, and Evelyn shoots playful daggers at my luggage. She’s just making a show.

After checking my bag with the concierge to be delivered to my room for the night when it is ready, Evelyn and I meet our friends and family, who are waiting for us in a seating area just off the main lobby.

Evelyn

My palms are sweating.

All our friends and family are here to celebrate with Foster and me, and a strange anxiety has struck me in the gut. I’m not usually one to shy away from the spotlight, but having our relationship on display is like putting our love in a fishbowl. Not that I don’t want to shout my affections from the rooftops, but the way I feel for him is an intimate and personal emotion.

Is it selfish to want to keep some things private?

All I want to do is get married, be with the man I love, and live happily ever after with a lifetime supply of whipped cream for our extracurricular pleasure times. Maybe add the occasional chocolate sauce. A cherry might be nice, too, but it brings on too many clichéd jokes, so I might opt for a strawberry instead. Or, better yet, throw out all food porn and just settle on paint-by-numbers. I have the supplies.

“There they are,” my mother announces.

All heads from the group turn in our direction.

“You two look well rested. Foster, are you all set with your room?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ve officially moved out for the evening.”

His response seems to satisfy her.

“Excellent.”

Pushing through a group of Foster’s cousins, Wolfgang, with his shaved head adorned in dark sunglasses, skips—literally step-hopping—toward us with his arms open wide. He swoops me up into a hug and dramatically twirls me around, like we’re some corny couple in one of those cheesy romance movies.

“You look radiant.” He lowers his voice and continues, “Freshly fucked makes you glow like an angel in a strip club.”

I smack his shoulder. “Thanks. Foster is the master of the oxytocin gleam.”

“I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean. Is it some kind of new foreplay? I could use some extra kinky in my life.”

“Sounds like someone needs a chemistry lesson,” Foster comments.

“Screw that. The only chemistry that matters in my life is the mixing of hot water and coffee beans.” Wolfgang pats my fiancé on the shoulder. “I’ll leave the rest up to you.”

“You’re missing out,” I remark. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

My mother claps, calling all of our friends’ and families’ attention. “Okay, everyone, it’s time for us to go. There are two buses out front that will escort us down to the dock. From there, we’ll all board the ship and be at our destination in time for lunch.”

Without any argument or complaint, everyone takes my mother’s direction—they all must have received the memo that she’s in charge—and they begin to make their way toward the exit. A few stop and say hello to Foster and me, but for the most part, we are being rushed outdoors to the buses.

Wolfgang stays by my side, claiming it’s his duty as man of honor, and Foster flanks my other arm. Climbing aboard one of the vehicles, Foster and I sit in the row behind Wolfgang and Foster’s brother, Harold.

The bus takes off toward the dock. Not even ten seconds after the driver begins to accelerate, Wolfgang turns around to chat with Foster and me.

“Great tan,” my friend comments. “You won’t need to spray at all. You look so fresh and glowy.”

“Thanks. I think we covered my glow earlier,” I chirp back.

“True. All that oxytocin. I remember.”

Harold snickers, and Foster does his best to keep a poker face.

Wolfgang suspiciously eyes me and furrows his brow.

“What?” I snap.

“Are you nervous?”

“No.”

“You seem nervous or…something.” He winks at Foster, causing him to laugh. “If you’re apprehensive at all, I’ll have a good long talk with Foster about respecting and taking care of you for the rest of your life. I’m happy to do it. I could even threaten him, if needed. Something along the lines of a shovel and a hole dug about six feet into the ground.”

“Like you would know how,” I say. “Have you been studying Mafia movies?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Foster drapes an arm over my shoulder. “Rest assured, I’m very protective of what’s mine. No need for a shovel.”

“Ooh, the alpha vibe. I like it. It’s probably for the best anyhow. My hardware store coupon expired last week.”

“Yes, one should never pay full price when it comes to equipment for veiled threats,” I say.

“Fair enough.” Wolfgang points a finger at me. “Let me ask you a few questions.”

“Sure,” I respond easily. Wolfgang is always so random with his conversations, but he keeps them rolling, so I just go with it. “Whatcha got?”

He leans his chin on the headrest. “What color are the clouds?”

“Clouds?” I guffaw. “Is this some kind of verbal Rorschach test where I have to imagine the ink splatters?”

“Don’t overthink it. Just answer the damn question. What color are clouds?”

“White, I suppose.”

“What color are your teeth?”

I pause. “White?”

“What color is the snow?”

“White. This is stupid.”

“What do cows drink?” Wolfgang quickly asks.

“Milk!” I shout, mildly annoyed by the silliness of it.

Foster chuckles beside me, and Wolfgang covers his mouth, stifling his own laughter.

“What?” I ask.

“Cows don’t drink milk,” Wolfgang answers. “They drink water.”

I backtrack the entire exchange in my head and utter, “Oh.”

“Just a little trick to get you to relax. You seemed a little off.” He grins, and I do the same. “There’s that smile I was looking for.” Wolfgang turns back around in his seat.

I ask Foster, “Didn’t those questions trick you at all?”

“A little, but I’ve heard that one before…when I was ten.”

“Huh.”

“It’s okay.” He kisses me on the forehead. “I’m glad you didn’t see the water.”

The irony isn’t lost on me. I’m glad I didn’t see the water either.

He’s more than water, and so am I.

 

SIX

Evelyn

After boarding the small yacht and traveling for a little over an hour, our party is settled on a secluded stretch of sand on a nearby satellite island. It’s so small that only plants and animals call it home.

Just yards from the beach, our party snorkels through a colorful reef while the chef prepares our lunch onshore. The day is warm and bright with a small breeze, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves and each other’s company. My mother might be overbearing with her wishes and need for control in certain areas, but I can easily concede that an outing with our guests is a much better idea than I anticipated.

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