After she’d wrung every last bit of pleasure from his body, she slowly eased her fingers from their depths and slapped his flank. He collapsed on his belly
, aftershocks of bliss making him shudder occasionally.
“How was that?” she asked.
He couldn’t form words, so he hoped his groan showed her sufficient appreciation. In a basin of water she poured from a jug, she washed her hands and brushed her teeth before lying beside him. He was almost breathing steadily now, but he hadn’t fully recovered from the pleasure he’d experienced.
“I love you,” he murmured. His arm flopped onto her back to pull her against his side. Soon he’d be able to find the strength to roll over and hold her properly, but for now, this attempt would have to do.
“I know. I love you too. I’m ready to hear your condition for going to Bangor now.”
He lifted his head, trying to see her face in the limited twilight that filtered through the gauzy curtains. “I thought that rim job was my condition.”
She grinned deviously. “That was just for fun.”
He chuckled and rolled onto his side so he could pull her against him belly to belly. “I love you now even more than I did three seconds ago.”
She laid a hand on his cheek and kissed him deeply. When they pulled apart, he was already interested in reciprocating her thoughtful gift of orgasm.
“Your condition?” she asked.
He’d forgotten again. “I’d say my condition is… aroused.”
She laughed. “Already?”
“But my condition for going to Bangor…” Quick, before my thoughts get too clouded with lust again. “You lose the schedule.”
She nodded agreeably.
“And—”
“You said one condition,” she cut him off.
“Aaaannd…” He wasn’t going to let her waylay his real condition, the one that mattered to him. “When we get to Bangor, you’ll let me decide if I want to meet them. And if I decide I don’t want to, you promise not to push me.”
She scrunched her face up. “But then I’m sure you won’t go through with it.”
“And that needs to be okay with you.”
She stared at him until it was so dark outside, he could no longer make out her features. “Will you at least promise to carefully consider your decision?” she asked. “And not just blow it off?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.” She snuggled her face into his chest. “I feel so much better now. I didn’t realize how much trying to trick you was bothering me.”
“You don’t have to hide anything from me. I’m not just saying that.”
Her breathy sigh permeated his T-shirt and warmed the skin over his thudding heart. “I love you now even more than I did three seconds ago,” she whispered.
Was it possible to melt? As all of his muscles relaxed at once, he was pretty sure it had just happened to him.
“Do you think we can make it to Santa Fe before nine?” she asked.
He huffed out a short laugh. Predictable. “You’re supposed to lose that schedule, remember?”
“Yeah, but we have dinner reservations at the best Mexican restaurant in the city.”
He kissed her forehead and released her. “If it will make you happy, we can try.”
“It will make me happy.”
Then there was nothing further to debate. Eric just hoped the minibus felt as cooperative as he did.
Chapter Eight
Rebekah enjoyed Santa Fe. The website she’d consulted while planning the trip had been right about the restaurant—delicious and romantic—as well as the hotel—gorgeous Southwestern style, cozy, and wonderful customer service. When using the traveler review site, she’d gone with the number-one visitor choices under every category, and so far she hadn’t been disappointed. She was glad she hadn’t used the same method for choosing their Vegas hotel. She couldn’t imagine a pricier hotel would have been any more fun.
“Time to get up,” she whispered in Eric’s ear. “We’re going to a museum.”
He grumbled something incoherent and smashed his pillow over his face.
“It’s a museum of art.”
He yanked the covers over his head, burying himself and the pillow still smashed to his face.
“Fine. I’ll go look at all those flowery vaginas by myself.” She scooted off the bed and reached for her shoes.
Eric tossed back the covers and sent the pillow tumbling from the bed. “Did you say vaginas?”
She lifted her eyebrows and nodded. “Vaginas everywhere.”
“I’m in.” He rolled out of bed and stretched his arms over his head. Rebekah forgot she was putting on her shoes as she sat on the carpet and stared at his long, lean body. The man was all well-defined muscle and sinew. Perhaps she’d been a bit hasty in getting dressed this morning.
But he was on board for the museum, so they headed out without any play time.
As they wandered the Georgia O’Keeffe art gallery, Eric began to fidget. “When do we get to the vaginas?”
“These are all vaginas,” Rebekah said. She looked down and spoke to her crotch area. “My husband didn’t recognize you.”
He lifted one brow. “These are all flowers.”
“Are you sure?”
He moved closer to the painting of an orchid and examined it, tilting his head slightly. “It does look like pussy.”
The woman beside him, who was studying the same painting, sniggered and then burst out laughing.
“Told you,” Rebekah said. “They’re beautiful.”
“I agree—pussy is spectacular. But if I get a boner every time I see a flower in the future, it’s your fault.”
“Georgia O’Keeffe’s fault,” she corrected. “I’m going to buy some prints in the gift shop and hang them all over our bedroom.”
“I’ll never be able to leave the room,” he complained.
“That’s the idea.”
They were on the road by noon, and while in the back of her mind Rebekah was hoping they’d make it to Oklahoma City by nightfall, she didn’t mention it to Eric. He got sidetracked storm chasing. Even though it was a cloudless day in December, he was sure that if he drove down enough dirt roads, he’d eventually spot a tornado. After taking several turns onto unpaved roads, their navigation proved worthless. Spectacularly lost somewhere in Oklahoma, Rebekah couldn’t believe there were still places in the United States that didn’t have cellular service. So they drove around the countryside, eventually stopping at sunset to watch the bright orange sun paint the sky pink before sinking below the horizon. Caught up in the splendor of nature, they warmed their chilly lips with deep, tender kisses before climbing into the back of the minibus for some calisthenics.
By the time they found an interstate that led them to Oklahoma City, it was too late to take in a comedy show in Bricktown and the restaurant she’d chosen was already closed, so they ordered room service and watched a campy zombie movie in their hotel suite before succumbing to exhaustion. It was the first night of their married lives where they fell asleep before making love. Eric seemed to realize this at around four in the morning, when he woke her with a stiffy poking her in the ass.
“I’m too tired,” she mumbled. “Let me sleep.”
Eric decided to take care of his condition on his own. The rhythmic slapping of him beating off was impossible to ignore. Rebekah switched on the lamp to watch him. His hand jerked up and down his length. God, his cock was beautiful. Staring at his hand circling the shaft, fingers bumping over the rim of his head and thumb brushing the opening at the tip, had her too aroused to sleep.
She slipped her fingers between her legs and shuddered as pleasure pulsed through her.
“Are you wet?” he asked.
“Mmmhmm.”
“Mind if I taste you while I jack off?”
She laughed softly. “I don’t think I’ll mind that at all.”
She knelt over his face backward so she could watch him stroke his cock while his tongue danced over her clit and dipped into her soaking wet pussy. She wasn’t sure if watching him come—his fluids erupting from his tip to splatter over his lower belly?
??or the chaotic flicks of his tongue against her clit sent her over the edge, but she screamed when her orgasm caught her by surprise. She lifted her hips, pulling away from his face so she could slam two fingers into her clenching pussy as she came.