One Wrong Move (43 page)

He ran his hands over her arms. “If it were a dream, you wouldn’t be so beat up. And I’m no dream man. You know me.”

“Yes.” Her soul shook, for joy. “Yes, I do know you.”

“I put up a good fight, but once I make up my mind, it’s made,” he told her. “I want you to belong to me.”

The giggles melted into tears. “You’ve known me for two days.”

“Two unusual days,” Aaro pointed out. “A day like one of these counts for at least a year.”

She clamped her hand over her mouth, and fought for control of her voice. “Are you sure? With all the stuff we’re dealing with right now, you think it’s the right time to pile this on?”

“Yes,” he said. “If I’m going to take you with me to that party, into mortal danger, I’ll take you as my wife. Or not at all.”

“Ah. So, it’s a condition? I marry you, or you won’t let me come?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s right.”

She nibbled on her lip. “What makes you think you can stop me?”

“Let’s not go there,” Aaro said. “Just marry me. It’ll be easier.”

She braced herself against the blast of charismatic male power, and a thought occurred to her. “Are you coercing me, Aaro?”

“No,” he said. “My shield’s down. Look inside, if you don’t believe me. This is just normal, garden-variety bullying and manipulation.”

That provoked another storm of giggles. “Well, gee. If you put it that way, how can I resist?”

His eyes blazed with triumph. “So, no resistance? That’s a yes?”

“That is a yes,” she said. “I accept your proposal.”

He pulled her closer, nuzzling her breasts as he stared up into her face, his eyes alight. “Yes,” he whispered fiercely. “Yes.”

She licked her lips, and waited. “And?” she asked. “Now what?”

“The vows,” he said. “Come here.”

She looked at his head, between her breasts. “Um . . . I am here.”

“No. Like this.” He grabbed her waist and lifted her up onto his lap, so that she sat facing him, astride his legs.

“This hardly seems a decorous sort of position in which to exchanged sacred vows,” she said, embracing him.

“But I love you like this.” He slid his hand down between her legs and cupped her mound, tracing the seam of her tender folds with his fingers. “Legs wide open,” he murmured. “Wet and soft.

Trusting me.”

“I do, I do trust you, but . . . oh God.” Her voice choked off as he slid his finger inside her. “Stop that. That’s not fair.”

“Don’t you like it?” He thrust in two fingers, stretching her.

Her opening clenched greedily around him, quivering.

“I will not exchange vows with you while you’re petting my private parts, you dog,” she said. “That’s an unfair advantage.”

“So grab my cock,” he suggested. “We’ll be even.”

“No. Absolutely not. That’s for later.” She grabbed his hands, and placed them squarely at her waist. “Be good.”

He sighed, and lifted his fingers to his face, licking each one.

“Later,” he said. “Shields down.”

“But then you’ll see how scared I am,” she whispered.

“I’m scared, too,” he said. “That’s why I want this now.”

Her arms tightened around him. “OK, Aaro. So? Now what?”

“You start.”

“Me?” she squeaked, outraged. “But this was your idea!”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl. You know wedding schtick better than me. When I go to weddings, I hide out and smoke during the vows.”

She rolled her eyes. “That is so lame!”

He gave her a pleading look. She harrumphed. “OK, then,”

she grumbled. “I don’t have the presence of mind to come up with anything original, so I’ll try to remember more or less what I’ve heard. And don’t you dare laugh or criticize how it comes out. Or. Else.”

“Never,” Aaro said solemnly.

She took a deep breath, digging into her memory. “OK. Ah . . .

do you, Alex Aaro, take me, Nina Louisa Christie, to be your wife? For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live?”

He gave her that grin that reached all the way to his eyes.

“Fuck yeah,” he rumbled, and pulled her in for a tight, hot kiss.

She pushed free a moment later. “No!” she scolded. “Do it properly if you’re going to do it! Say ‘I do!’ And save the kisses for the end!”

“I do, I do. I was just being emphatic.”

“Be good, not emphatic! This is serious stuff!”

“Serious. Very.” A hot excitement burned in his eyes.

“OK, your turn,” she told him briskly.

He looked blank. “My turn for what?”

She sighed. “The spiel,” she prompted. “What, am I the only one who has to make the deathless vows? Fair’s fair.”

He looked clouded. “OK. Do you, Nina . . . what was your middle name again? Lavinia, Lucinda, Lauretta?”

“Louisa,” she supplied patiently.

“Do you, Nina Louisa Christie, take me, Alex Aaro, to be your husband? And all the rest, yada yada?”

Seconds ticked by. “No yada yada,” she said sternly. “Like hell will I accept a shortcut like that, you lazy dog. Say it. All of it.”

He made an impatient sound. “OK, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to worship, as long as we live?”

“It was cherish, not worship. Even though worship is kind of nice, now that I think about it. And you forgot for better or worse.”

“Can’t get much worse than this. So what’s the word, Nina Louisa Christie? Do you take me, or are you just going to dick me around?”

She couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, yes. I take you. I claim you.

You are mine, Alex Aaro. I own your ass.”

Aaro’s teeth flashed. “Whoa. That was stern. I never heard that line in a marriage ceremony before.”

“I thought I’d do some variations of my own. I guess, um . . .

that we can pronounce each other husband and wife.” She stroked his cheek, with a reverent, wondering hand. “So? You’re my husband.”

“You’re my wife.” His voice shook. “My God, it’s such a turn-on.”

“Glad it works for you.” They stared at each other.

“This is the part when you kiss the bride,” she reminded him.

“I’m going to do a hell of a lot more than that to the bride.” He pulled her into a devouring kiss, then lifted her off his lap and set her on the bed. He got to work on his belt. “If you want to get married again normally, for the bureaucratic stuff, fine. And the party. If you want to have your friends, the white dress and the champagne and the shrimp puffs, fine. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s a done deal.”

“Yes.” It was all she could say, with her throat quivering like that.

He jerked his jeans down and stepped out of them. His cock sprang up, flushed and stiff. “I want to come inside you,” he said.

That was a conversation they didn’t have time for, but whatever. Her body answered for her. “You can,” she said simply. “I want that.”

He stroked his jutting cock, smearing precome. “Miles should be here soon,” he said. “I’d rather not start our married life with a quickie, but we’re going to have to be real focused.”

“I’ve auditioned you pretty thoroughly at this point,” she assured him. “I already know what you’re capable of.”

“You think?” His grin flashed. “Then I’ll just have to surprise you.”

He sank down to his knees and pushed her legs apart.

She gasped, grabbing his head as he laved her slit with a long, tender swipe of his tongue. “I thought you said a quickie!”

“I did,” he said, teasing her open with his finger. “It can be quick, sure. But it damn well has to be good. For that, you need to be wet.”

“I am wet!” she protested. “Saying our vows turned me on!”

“I want you wetter,” he said, and put his mouth to her.

She clutched his hair, shivering. Husband. Wow. It had all happened so fast. Her life had exploded from within, become something brand new. And in spite of the danger, something so unexpectedly beautiful.

Nothing could be more different from the drab, uptight woman she had been than this wanton, whimpering, naked girl with the pink face, clutching her husband’s head between her legs while he teased her with his tongue. He suckled, coaxed, plunging and lapping, driving her until she exploded. It pulsed through her, a sweet, sobbing eternity.

“Yeah.” He rose, wiping his face. “Now we’re talking. Scoot back.”

She did so clumsily, canting her hips to take him deeper, and crying out in raw delight as he sank his stiff, thick cock deep inside. A long, tight slide and then a tender pulse. So hot. Naked inside her, heartbeat throbbing with hers as he slid and stroked.

She clenched him, with arms, legs, her pussy. Clung as he began to move. Slow, heavy thrusts, but it wasn’t slow for long. She drove him on, digging her fingernails into his ass. Yelling, demanding, lifting herself. She craved his intensity, his energy. It fired up her courage and faith, her very life force, with each eager, plunging stroke. They drove each other to the brink, diving off together, in perfect trust and abandon.

Later, Aaro slid off, onto his side. Air rushed into the vaccuum of her lungs, but she missed the sheer mass of him.

He ran his hand over her breast, teasing her nipple to hardness. He was so gorgeous. Those slanted, smoldering green eyes.

The shadow of his beard stubble. His look of utter concentration when he made love to her. “My God, you’re beautiful,” she said.

He gave her that lazy grin. “That’s my line.”

“I stole it,” she announced. “It’s mine now.”

“We’ll share,” he told her. “We’re married now. We share everything, right? Isn’t that how it works?”

She stared at him, big-eyed and boggled. “Wow,” she whispered.

His eyes sharpened. “Regrets?”

“No. It’s just hard, you know? To believe it’s real.”

“Oh, it’s fucking real, all right,” he said. “I’m holding you to it.

Don’t think for one second that you can back out now.”

She was startled at his intensity. “I’m not!”

“Good,” he said. “Because you can’t.” He sat up. “Roll over.”

She was too slow for his tastes, so he flipped her himself, jerking her hips back. She twisted, looking back. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Admiring my wife. Legs open, awesome cheeks on display for me to pet. Your pussy, red and puffy and shining.” He caressed her thighs. “Wet to your knees with your lube and my come. You said you owned my ass, right?” He gripped her ass, positioning himself behind her.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I did say that.”

“So I own yours right back. That’s fair. Right?” He fitted his cockhead against her labia, stroking and teasing until it was lodged in her tight opening, and surged forward. She moaned, at that deep, luscious slide of perfection. A slow lick; a wet, tender inside kiss.

“I thought we were short on time,” she said. “What is this, Aaro?”

“Just sealing the deal.” He swiveled. She trembled at the pulsing ache. “I love how you make my cock slippery and hot.”

He gripped her hips for a forceful thrust. “I love watching it go into you.”

She struggled not to collapse onto the bed at the heavy jolt of his hips against hers. “Didn’t we just seal the deal?”

“That was just the beginning. I’ll keep at it until I feel like the job’s done. Could take a half a century or more. Who knows?”

She laughed, and he growled his appreciation. “I love it when you laugh with my cock in you,” he said, and drove in again, a jarring thud of contact. He stopped moving, holding her tightly.

“Does that hurt?”

She felt his mind questing for contact. Opened every part of herself, in perfect trust. “Do what you want. I like you that way.”

Those were the last coherent words either of them was capable of for a long time. After that, it was just gasps, the thud of flesh on flesh, the rattle and squeak of the bed. His anger and fear, his lust and longing, mixed with hers until they were one and the same, and the long string of explosions jolted them even deeper inside each other.

After, he lay there for a long time, his face hidden in her hair.

When he finally rolled over, Nina stroked his hair.

“Did you seal the deal?” she asked.

It took a long time to answer. “It’ll do, for a little while,” he said curtly. “Get in the shower. I don’t want Miles to see you in a towel.”

“Ooh, possessive,” she murmured.

He gave her a sharp look. “You just now figured that out?”

She got to it briskly, then he took his turn. The phone rang as Aaro came out of the bathroom, a towel around his hips. He snatched it up. “Yeah? Good. Come up.”

Miles didn’t know what he was expecting when the door to the hotel room opened, but what he saw was not it.

Nina Christie was so small. Curvy, pretty, a floppy mane of dark ringlets. Big eyes, long lashes. Sweet smile. Nasty bruises. But in spite of being on the run for her life, she seemed to, well . . . glow.

And Aaro? Miles barely recognized the guy. He could have walked past him on the street. And the change had nothing to do with the bruises or his weird hair. It was the underlying muscles in his face. Like, they’d been frozen before, and now they’d thawed and decided to throw a party. Miles had never seen Aaro smile, except for smirks which never got near his eyes, but he grinned while he introduced Nina, eye crinkles creased up à la the Marlboro Man. “Nina, this is Miles Davenport, my colleague,” Aaro said. “Miles, meet my wife, Nina.”

Miles practically dropped his teeth.
“What?”

“Wife,” Aaro repeated. “You know, shared property, cohabita-tion, family values?” He glanced at Nina. “We haven’t discussed surnames.”

“Later for that,” she said. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what your surname is.”

“You’ve only known her for three days!” Miles’s voice cracked.

Aaro shrugged. “So?”

“That’s what I said, at first,” Nina said. “But he’s very . . . persuasive.” She went pink, and Miles suddenly got hit with a faceful of that jittery energy that lustful couples generated when they started vibing at each other. Back to business. They could do hanky-panky on their own time. “So, uh, when did you guys tie the knot?”

“About a half an hour ago,” Aaro said brusquely.