Beauty From Love (2 page)

“So you were always with your family?”

“No. I came once without them.”

“You came alone or with a friend?” I shouldn’t ask since I might get an answer I won’t like.

“Friends.” Plural. What does that mean?
Friends
,
like the ones everyone has or the kind of
friends
only he has? I mean had.

He’s laughing but I’m not. “Friends?”

“Well, I guess drunken college buddies is probably a more accurate description of the company I kept the time I came without my family.”

Oh—that I can handle. “You and your pals came here to party?”

“Yeah, but only once during break. The guys wrecked the place and the owner was furious. The damage wasn’t minimal. Mum paid for it but threatened to beat me within an inch of my life if it ever happened again.” He’s grinning. “I knew she wasn’t kidding so I never brought them back.”

“I bet Margaret wanted to beat your ass.”

“There was definitely some smacking with a purse. She loves to do that. She knows it doesn’t hurt but it sounds like it does so she enjoys it. And it’s dramatic. She did that to me in front of my mates. God, I was humiliated. But of course, that’s why she did it.” I’m laughing as I imagine my mother-in-law clobbering her college-age son with her handbag in front of his friends. “Have you seen her in action? She should’ve been a professional boxer. She can get at least three good licks in before your brain has time to register that you’re being smacked.”

I love Margaret so much. She’s going to be the best mother-in-law I could ever wish for. I could stand to learn a thing or two from her. “I’m going to have her teach me her moves.”

“Baby, please don’t. I can’t take any more unnecessary roughness. Unless you want to get unruly with me in the bedroom.” He leans over to kiss the side of my neck and my skin instantly prickles while something stirs deep within my belly. He loves doing that to me.

“Down, boy. We’re not at the hotel yet.” He leans back and I can tell he’s fighting a grin. “What? Are you up to something, Mr. McLachlan?”

“Maybe, but it’s a surprise, Mrs. McLachlan. One I can’t wait to show you.”

The car stops only moments before Jack Henry’s warm hand squeezes mine gently. I recognize the sound of an opening car door. I’m guessing the driver is probably waiting for us to get out. “Can you see anything through your blindfold?”

That’s right. My husband has blindfolded me in the car, not the bedroom.

“No. Not a thing.” And I can’t. All I see is total blackness and it’s disorienting. But not as much as what we’re doing now. It’s becoming more and more evident that we aren’t at a hotel. This is something entirely different.

I feel him slide across the seat away from me as he tugs on my hand. “This way, love.”

I step out of the car and hear waves in the distance as I breathe in the salty air. We’re at the beach and I’m confused. I don’t understand why he’d bring me here directly from the airport instead of checking into our room so we could take a hot shower after our long flight. It’s too early to swim. And I’m in a sundress, not a swimsuit.

These are the thoughts of a nagging wife so I hastily put them away. What do I have to complain about? I’m married to the man of my dreams and he treats me like a queen. I could do much, much worse.

“Walk this way.” I take a few baby steps in the direction he’s pulling me. I can’t see but it feels like he’s walking backward as he holds both of my hands. “Don’t be afraid, L. I won’t let you fall. Ever.”

I don’t doubt him for a moment. “I trust that you won’t, but I have an innate instinct telling me I will so it’s hard to ignore.”

“Not much further.”

It’s not sand I’m walking on. It feels firm, like concrete or asphalt, but I take about twenty more steps before we stop. “I’m taking your blindfold off but I want you to keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them.”

“Okay.”

He removes my blinder and the sun shines directly on my face. I feel its warmth against my skin and see its brightness on the other side of my closed lids. “You can open them.”

The breeze from the ocean blows a strand of hair into my face and lodges itself in the slit of one my eyes. I shake my head to make my hair fall over one shoulder. When I straighten, I look before me and see a magnificent beachfront home.

I wait for him to say something—give me an idea about what we’re doing here—but he doesn’t. “Is this where we’re staying?”

“Yes.” He’s beaming, appearing so proud of himself. Maybe he’s pleased he has pulled one over on me because he has. I completely expected a honeymoon suite in one of Maui’s finest hotels but this is so much better. “Do you like it?”

Now I’m the one grinning like the Cheshire cat because I know this means we don’t have to be quiet. We can lose control without the fear of being heard by others. “Are you kidding me? It’s breathtaking. Who wouldn’t love it?” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze his middle. “This is going to be so much better than a hotel.”

“This is it—the house I was telling you about. My vacation home as a child.”

Oh my. I can’t believe he brought me to the place he thought of as his second home while growing up. “Oh, Jack Henry.”

“It wasn’t possible for me to come to Maui with my bride and not stay here.”

He would’ve been so limited on time when planning our honeymoon. I can’t believe a place like this would have a vacancy. “Then we’re incredibly lucky it was available for rent on such short notice.”

He beams before turning me so I’m facing the house. Behind me, he snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me tight against him, his mouth next to my ear. “I own it, L. I bought it for you. It’s your wedding gift.” I turn my face toward him and his stubble grazes me. “I want to spend the rest of our lives making happy memories here with you and our children.”

Omigod. Best. Husband. Ever.

I once thought I didn’t want a wife and kids but it was because I hadn’t met the right person. Everything is different now—I’m married to the perfect woman and I can’t wait until she becomes the mother of my children.

I’m glad L asked me why I was anxious to begin our family. I’m not sure I would’ve ever been brave enough to volunteer that information. Fear. It’s not something a man likes to admit but that’s the beauty of my relationship with L. I can tell her anything.

She turns in my arms and kisses me between words. “You. Are. Amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so since it seems you’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives.”

“Happily stuck by choice. There’s a difference.”

I watch the sun dance on her face as the palm tree leaves above move in the breeze. A shorter strand of hair at her temple has escaped her grasp and I tuck it behind her ear. “Are you truly happy?”

“It isn’t possible for me to be happier than I am in this moment.”

I grasp her face and look into her golden-brown eyes. I see her sincerity and know her words are true. She didn’t marry me for any reason other than her love for me, so Laurelyn Paige Prescott McLachlan is a woman to be treasured. “Nor could I.”

I lean down to scoop her from the ground and she squeals. “I think it’s time I carried my bride across the threshold. I want you to see the rest of the house.”

I turn the knob and gently push the door open with my foot. L is like a wide-eyed child. I return her to her feet and her head oscillates slowly as she takes it all in.

The floor plan is open so she’s able to see the living room along with the kitchen and dining room. She says nothing and I can’t tell if she likes it or not. “What are you thinking?”

“How much I love you,” she says, propelling herself into my arms for a kiss. “You take care of me,” she says against my mouth. “No one’s ever done that before.”

It’s a shame. She should’ve been cared for by loving parents. But she wasn’t, and it’s shaped her into the person she is today. I don’t know how she’s not utterly damaged but she’s the complete opposite—the strongest person I know. I wonder who she would’ve been if they’d treated her the way they should have.

I give her a quick kiss and take her hand. “Come. I want to show you the rest.”

I begin with the five smaller bedrooms and work our way toward the master suite. I ask her to close her eyes. I cover them with one hand and use the other to lead her into the center of the room. I like this grown-up game of peekaboo. “No peeping.”

“I’m not. And I don’t have X-ray vision so I can’t see through flesh and bone.”

“True.” I take my hand away once she’s facing the bed. “Okay. Open your eyes.”

She softly gasps as she scans the room—our newly remodeled master suite. “I was only able to have this room and one other remodeled since the purchase was so rushed. Do you like it?”

“I love it. I couldn’t have chosen anything more perfect.” She turns in my arms and slides her hands up to my shoulders. “Or sexier.”

This is my first time seeing it as well and I’m pleased with the results, although it’s very different from our bedroom at Avalon. This is a lot girlier, yet not emasculating.

It’s lighter. The walls are pale beige, almost white. It’s going to reflect the morning sun even with the drapes pulled, so I doubt there’ll be much sleeping late in here. I don’t mind because I’m an early riser, but it could be a problem for L. She loves her sleep.

There’s fabric and upholstery everywhere. Coordinated shades of pale blue, beige, and cream dominate; plenty of candles wait to be lit. It smells heavenly—much like the red currant L loves so much. I don’t have to work hard to imagine what this bedroom suite will look like lit up tonight or how beautiful L will look illuminated by candlelight.

I’m so glad she approves. “I think the designer did a great job. I gave her full control. The only requirement was that she make it romantic.”

“Mission accomplished.” L walks toward the bed and runs her hand down the post. I wonder if she thinks I made a special request for that. I didn’t, but I admit it’s a very nice surprise. “This is absolutely amazing. Makes me want to stay in bed all day—with you.”

“Then I believe I owe Miss Rutledge a bonus for a job well done.” I take her hand and lead her toward the small sitting room currently occupied by a chaise with a side table. It’s not a huge area but it’ll suffice for what I have in mind. “I was thinking this would make a perfect nursery. It isn’t big but I think it’ll hold a crib and changing table. Maybe a rocking chair in the corner.”

She’s quiet as she looks around the room and I fear I may have pushed her too hard, too soon. That’s not my intention at all. I don’t mean to press her. It’s only been an hour since our conversation—and she told me she’d think about trying to have a baby—so I need to back off before I anger her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how that sounded until I heard myself saying it.” I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sure I’ve bombarded you with the baby-making talk but I promise I’m not ignoring your need to think it over.”

“It’s okay. You’re being honest with me about what you want and the reason why. I could never be upset with you about yearning to start a family with me.” She twists in my arms so we’re facing one another. “The baby-making part doesn’t scare me. We’ve had a lot of fun practicing, but I worry about the after part. We’ve had so little time together.”

An hour isn’t even close to long enough. She needs way more time to sort this out. “I think it’s a good idea to put the baby talk on the back burner for now.”

“Agreed.”

I kiss the side of her face. “I have something else to show you.”

We walk the hall toward the other remodeled room. “This is a vacation home and it often houses two families, so it has two master suites.”

“Another romantic getaway?”

I laugh inwardly. “Not exactly.” I grasp the knob. “Close your eyes.”

“This is becoming a habit for you.” She does as I tell her so I open the door and lead her into the second master suite. “You can open your eyes now.”

Her eyes are wide as she assesses her surroundings. Mirrored walls. Overhead lights. A stage. A pole.

She’s grinning so I take that as a good sign. She walks up the steps onto the stage and runs her hand up the golden brass. “Wow. This room is a little presumptuous on your part, Mr. McLachlan. One might assume you have an obsession with pole dancers.”

She has no idea.

I join her on the stage and place my hands on her hips, pushing her backward until she’s pressed against the brass extending from floor to ceiling. “I have an obsession with one.”

She reaches for the button of my jeans and pulls it free. She looks down—and so do I—to watch her skillful fingers push the zipper of my pants down. Then her hands are inside the waistband of my boxer briefs, shoving them down. “I may have my own obsession.” And like a scene worthy of any man’s sexual fantasy, L drops to her knees before me.

Oh God. My wife is so smokin’ hot. How did I get so lucky?

She looks up at me from her knees, the same way she’s done countless times before, and it couldn’t be sexier. Until I see her tongue stroke me from base to tip. I want to close my eyes and become totally lost but I can’t stop watching her mouth on me. It’s too fucking hot.

She goes through a series of motions. Fast. Slow. Soft. Hard. I can’t predict what’s coming next and I fucking love it.

She’s at it no more than a minute and I’m almost ready to come because she’s too damn good at this, but her mouth isn’t where I want to come. I tap the top of her head. “Stop, L.”

She does and I help my wife to her feet. My hands go fishing beneath her dress where I grasp her almost nonexistent knickers and drag them down her legs. She steps out one foot at a time and kicks the two white lacy triangles aside. She sheds her cardigan and pulls her dress over her head before chucking it across the stage. She’s left wearing only her bra and heels, though not for long. The bra is going, but not the heels. Those stay.

I step back and behold the lovely sight of my bride. Laurelyn is absolutely the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe I get to call her mine forever. I’m a fortunate man.

She gives me a come-hither motion with her finger and I obey. I have no choice because I’m hers to do with as she pleases. This woman owns me completely. “Inside me. Now.”

She reaches over her head and grasps the pole tightly. She lifts her lower body to wrap her legs around me and I understand the position she has in mind. My girl is strong. Most women don’t possess the physical strength it takes to do the things she’s capable of on a pole. “This is new. I like it.”

She frees one hand and pulls my face to hers for an urgent kiss, and I’m again made aware of the physical power she possesses. “Wrong. You’re gonna love it,” she whispers as she sinks down, pushing me deep inside her.

I groan with pleasure and grasp her bum so I can move with her in perfect rhythm. I thrust hard and she matches me evenly. My girl does me fucking proud but it doesn’t last near as long as I’d like. She brought me close to the edge using her mouth so I’m ahead of her. I know I am. She gave me a huge head start so I slow down—I’m not crossing the finish line without her.

I bring my fingers around to her most sensitive spot. I rub it in no particular order, the way she did when she went down on me. Fast. Slow. Soft. Hard. And I know when her breathing picks up that she’s close. And then it’s over for me as I explode inside her. “I. Love. You. L.”

I’m buried deep inside her and she has no reply for me, but I know why. I feel the ripple of her body tightening around my cock and know she’s too preoccupied with her own climax to respond.

When it’s over for her, she lets go of the pole and wraps both arms around my shoulders. “I love you too,” she says, kissing my mouth. She holds on tightly, trembling. I’m guessing it’s overuse of her muscles since she hasn’t had a workout like that in a while. “I think I’m a wee bit out of practice. I’ll be feeling the results of that little trick all week.”

I don’t want her sore on our honeymoon. There’s way too much I want to do with her.

“You should take a soak in the tub. It’ll help relax your muscles and then I’ll give you a massage when you’re out.”

She looks up at me so adoringly and stretches on her toes to nuzzle my nose. She isn’t tall enough so I lean down and meet her halfway. “Mmm. I was right. You’re definitely the best husband ever.”

“I’m just getting started, babe. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

I carry her to the bath—not because I don’t trust her legs—but because I want to. I set her down and make her sit on the vanity stool. She laughs and says I’m being ridiculous but I don’t care. I can never overdo it when it comes to her comfort.

I turn on the water and the room quickly becomes a sauna. “Check the water to be sure it’s not too hot for you.”

She gets up and walks over to the tub to dip her fingers under the stream. “Perfect.” She slips off her heels, which managed to stay on during the transport here, and she’s instantly at least three inches shorter. “Will you soak with me? I wasn’t the only one exerting my body.”

I had planned on checking in at the vineyards while she soaked but how could I possibly decline an invitation like that? “Absolutely, but let me get your body wash and shampoo first.”

I return with her bath supplies and shed my pants, which somehow didn’t manage to get removed during our sexual escapade. We step into the tub together. I sit first, per our routine, and then L lowers herself gracefully as ever into her usual spot between my legs so she can lean back against my chest. I revel in the simple feel of my beloved’s skin against mine.

This is how life should be. No more emptiness in three-month affairs with women I don’t care to know. I can’t believe I once found—whatever the right word is—in what I used to do. It certainly wasn’t happiness or fulfillment. I don’t have a label for it. L is my everything and there’s no going back. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I run my hands along her hips, massaging them under the water. I feel something stuck to one of them. It feels like a sticker and the corner pulls up more and more as I rub so I give it a yank.

She gasps and I immediately know I’ve done wrong. “Jack Henry!”

Oh hell. I think I’m in trouble. “Should I have not done that?”

“No. You shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry, L.” I hold up the flesh-colored square and she goes pale. “I thought it was some kind of sticker accidentally stuck on your bum. What is this?”

“It
was
my birth control patch.”

“Oh.” She’s going to think I took it off on purpose because of the baby talk. She’s probably going to be pissed off at me the rest of our honeymoon—or cut me off so she won’t get pregnant. Shit. “I didn’t know. I swear. Do you have another one to put on?” I move to get out of the tub. “I’ll get it for you right now.”

She stops me by grabbing my hand. “I have one left but it’s for next week. I’ll be short one week of hormones so that’s probably as good as not wearing one at all.”

“Please don’t be mad. It was a stupid move but I didn’t know.”