Regardless of what my identification said, Tommy’s girl is who I was.
And I knew that I was tied to this man, knotted with him in an inextricable way. He was intent on having me from the start. I had been intent on fighting it, but I’d lost. He’d lost, too, because he wound up feeling things, admitting that I had power over him, too.
So, though we both lost in that initial battle, we both actually won because of where we wound up. In love. In deep, immeasurable love.
I wore the eternity band and he’d worn the Celtic knot band that we’d bought in Las Vegas. Las Vegas not so long ago but yet so much had happened.
Was our life going to be predictable, safe, and happy? I had no idea, but I also didn’t care as long as I had him.
“You like it here?” he’d asked me as we were sitting down, catching our breath after a dance.
“Stay for a while?”
“Then, where ever we go next, what kind of house you want?”
“I dunno. I like the look of that little farmhouse on the farm land. Love to live in a little place, just us, where we can’t be thousands of square feet apart.”
“A tiny crackerjack box house?” He smiled, shaking his head. “You do realize we’re fuckin’ loaded, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be tiny. I like this house, too, having room for the whole family to stay. But I do know we don’t need a live-in maid and we also don’ two pool tables.”
“You had one in your office and one in the basement. Who needs two pool tables?”
“Me. Then we can play strip pool in multiple locations.”
I chuckled. “Don’t you mean strip poker against the pool table?”
“Strip pool. Strip poker. Strip Cards Against Humanity?”
“We could just become nudists,” I shrugged and sipped my wine. “Seriously, though. It doesn’t have to be flashy. It can be cozy, too. Something bright and colorful with vases of fresh flowers all the time.
“When the time comes, we’ll find something perfect. Something you love. Let’s go. Time for our wedding night to begin.” He winked and grabbed my hand. I glanced down at his left hand with that ring on it. Damn, the sight of a wedding band on Tommy Ferrano’s hand was sexy.
It felt like a long car-ride in the back of that limo. It was a long drive but it was made longer because he teased me relentlessly all the way there. Making out like teenagers, dirty-talk, some dry-humping, but never getting under my clothes.
By the time we got to our honeymoon suite, I was a bridal bundle of arousal.
Candles lit. Champagne, chocolate cherries, and chocolate-dipped strawberries with sparkling pink sugar on them. The honeymoon suite was absolutely beautiful, the bed made with rose petals in the shape of T and T. And we were about to mess it up.
I was on the bed now. Looking up at him. He’d carried me over the threshold over his shoulder, like I was a piece of meat, and I’d giggled as I landed in the bed.
The Wedding Night
“Spread,” I demanded.
Miles of white fabric kept her hidden from me. And that wouldn’t do, so I shoved the dress up above her waist, exposing tiny white silky panties that were covered in cherries. Fucking cherries.