“Bedroom?” I offer, and Lady Nethers jumps for joy when he nods, taking my hand and helping me out of the tub. As soon as both our feet hit the solid bath mat, he pulls me onto his waist, not bothering with a towel.
“I just washed the sheets!” I shout as he throws my wet, naked body on the bed. He gives me a wide smile before sliding on top of me, and he’s so slick he slips right inside. My eyes pop open from the unexpected entry.
“Oops,” he says this time, but I don’t think he’s really that sorry about it. I start laughing and tighten my legs around his waist. Never mind about the sheets. We’re not having peas and carrots sex right now. We’re having engagement sex. And I like seeing all the water drip from the tips of his dark hair, onto my cheeks and nose, and past my lips to my tongue. His playful gray eyes gradually dilate as he moves.
Laughter turns to deep sighs as Landon wipes my face free of all the water. He presses a soft kiss between my eyebrows.
“You’re going to be my wife,” he whispers, like a prayer, a wish, a dream he never thought would come to life. My heart thumps between our bodies, thumps against his, answering his beats with mine.
“Mrs. Wangford.” I bite my smile back, but it’s no use, Landon pauses above me, his whole face lighting up.
“Hell yeah! Now you can’t make fun of it.”
“I’ll say it in a seductive voice when I get my driver’s license.” I drop my voice an octave. “Wangford.”
“That’s so sexy,” he teases, biting my earlobe. I involuntarily giggle, goose bumps shooting up and down my entire body. That’s totally my spot, and he knows it, so he runs his hands across my puckered skin while he nibbles.
“Okay…you have to stop laughing,” he says.
“Can’t be helped.” I kiss his shoulder when he bumps it against my lips. “I really like it.”
“I know.” He bites again, causing more laughter and goose bumps. “But when you laugh, it does things. Down there.”
“I know it doesn’t hurt,” I say, then flex my Kegel muscles. He groans.
“No, it’s just…we haven’t done this in eleven days.”
“You’re counting?” When was the last time we counted?
He ignores me, resting an elbow on the pillow, and using the heel of his hand to hold his head up. “On most occasions I purposely make you laugh because of how it feels.” His lip twitches upward. “It’s like a hug.”
I stifle a snort, and he growls to the ceiling.
“Stop laughing!”
“I can’t help it.”
“You keep laughing, and I’m gonna shoot off before I can do my move.”
“I’ve felt your move,” I tease. “You need a new one.”
His jaw drops, and his stroking fingers turn to tickle monsters up and down, down and up my ribs, until he grips my sides and pulls me on his lap. My knees sink into the duvet next to his hips, and I run my nails through his damp hair. The stars in his gray irises seem to light the entire bedroom, echoing the moon dancing across the bedsheets.
I can’t believe I get a whole lifetime of this.
“Me neither,” he says, and a much smaller laugh tumbles out of my mouth. I had no idea my thoughts escaped me.
Landon’s lips meet mine softly, then harder, then all over. My laughter, my mind, and my body drift away into just one of the many beautiful moments I get to experience with this man. He feels so good, and the last time we had sex like this feels like a lifetime ago.
I’m just getting into my rhythm when I halt mid-hump with a gasp.
“What, what, what?” Landon says underneath me, sweat and shower water covering his skin.
“We need a condom.”
He looks at me like I just spouted Greek. “Huh?”
“A condom, Landon. I stopped taking my pill a week ago.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“I didn’t want to hurt the baby…if there was one.”
“Oh.” He closes his eyes and nods. “Okay. Condom. Do we even have one?”
“Maybe…?” I’m being optimistic. I think I tossed them out during my last sex drawer cleanup.
He slowly lifts me off him, and we both groan when we leave each other. I roll off the mattress, probably not looking so sexy with my naked squat and crawl to the naughty drawer in my nightstand.
“I could just pull out,” Landon suggests as I dig around the lubricant, the sex tarot cards we’ve used maybe once, and the blindfolds we use much more than that, but not lately. There’s not a single condom or any other form of birth control in here—unless you count the picture of my parents that must’ve slipped through the cracks from the drawer above it.
“I don’t know. I think I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“But…we don’t have a condom.”
“Maybe Theresa does.” Actually, I’m almost positive she does. I put the picture of my parents back in the right drawer and get to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”
“Your nipple is poking out,” he says, pointing at my left boob as I shrug into my fuzzy purple robe.
“Thanks. Keep it up, will ya?” I point back at “Lord Landon” and speed-walk out of the room, out my front door, down the hall, and rap on Theresa’s door.
And just my luck, she doesn’t answer. I slump back, lady parts laden with disappointment.
“No?” Landon asks, still hard and ready on the bed.
“She’s not home.”
“I’ll pull out,” he says, grabbing the tie on my robe and ripping it open.
“Let me get a towel.” I push him off before we get so into it I won’t care until we have to clean it. Then I’ll really care.
After placing the towel on the bed, Landon kisses me, probably knowing I’ve dried up and I’m losing whatever mojo I had ten minutes ago.
But we just got engaged, so no way in hell am I not having sex tonight.
Chapter 2
“You didn’t? Really?”
I grin up at Landon, uncurling my fingers from his biceps. “It’s okay. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. You know that.”
Landon breathlessly growls into the pillow by my head, sweaty body sticking to mine. “I swear, I made it romantic as hell.”
“It was good. Stop being such a guy about this.”
“Do you want me to finish you off?” he offers, sneaking his fingers up my thigh. They feel lazy against my skin, and I bite my smile back and give him a quick peck.
“I’m fine. Really. It was amazing, like always.”
“Mmkay.” His lips are getting lazy now. “I’ll get you next time. You’ll come so hard you’ll…I don’t know…just pretend I said something clever.”
I shake with silent laughs and play with his scruff as his breathing deepens. After-sex Landon is adorable. I bet he’ll be out in less than a minute.
Letting out a sigh, I turn to the ceiling, allowing my mind to slide back into the real world. Theresa and I used to call sex “Chocolateville” ever since she compared eating a double-fudge raspberry cheesecake to the best orgasm she ever had. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, I stole her plate and ate half.
I was in line at the skydive in Chocolateville while Landon jetted right past the guards. I’m really trying not to be disappointed, but it’s been a while. It’s my own damn fault. He obviously orgasms just as frequently as he did before.
He starts breathing heavy, his mouth partly open and half his face pressed into the pillow. I bite my smile back and poke his cheek. When he doesn’t move a muscle, I slide from the sheets, grab my phone, and do the crisscross after-sex walk to the bathroom, forgetting that I don’t need to. My fingers are already flying across the keyboard, texting Theresa when I shut the door.
I need to cash in on the pact we made on graduation. :) :)
I put the phone on the counter and take care of business, legs bouncing as I wait for her response. And of course Aunt Flo makes her appearance now. I grapple for the tampons and shout through the door, “Defini
tely not pregnant!” even though Landon is probably out of commission for the rest of the night.
My cell vibrates, so I speed through washing my hands to answer it.
“Hey,” I say, really trying the innocent thing, but I’m too stoked to pull it off.
“Are you in the bathroom?” Theresa sleepily chuckles. “Your voice is echoing.”
“I’m not peeing.” I crack the bathroom door and check on Landon. His entire body is covered with the comforter minus one leg dangling off the edge. I press the door closed and whisper into the phone. “So, can I cash in?”
“For real?”
“Hell yes.”
“You need a maid of honor?” Her voice squeaks on the last word, and I do a total Snoopy dance, buck naked in my bathroom, stifling my squeals with my girlfriend. Theresa asks question after question, but she’s rattling them off so fast I don’t understand them.
“Wait, what?” I say through my smile.
“When? How?”
“Few hours ago.” A large sigh flits through my lips as I grab a towel for my waist and slide to the chocolate brown bath mat. “It just fell out when we were in the shower.”
She snorts. “It wasn’t in the middle of sex, was it?”
“No. It was…sweet.” I let my mind replay Landon’s eyes, his words, his hands. “Perfect.”
“Good. You deserve nothing less.”
“Thanks.” My fingers splay across the bath mat, and I mindlessly pick at the fraying edge. “We did it after though.”
“Ah, engagement Chocolateville.” She sighs now, and I laugh picturing her taking that huge bite of cheesecake. “I’ve heard it’s up there with make-up sex.”
A weird weight sinks into my stomach. “It was nice.”
“Nice?” She gasps. “Oh no. Less than stellar, huh?”
“It was fine. I’ve just had so many mood swings. Then we couldn’t find a condom, so we had, like, a halftime breather. So, you know, not totally revved up. Not his fault.”
“That’s too bad. I’ve heard that engagement sex is better than the actual wedding night.”
“What? No.” I wrap my finger around a loose string in the mat and pull. “The wedding night will beat out everything.” It has to. I am determined to find our spark again specifically for that night.
“Think about it. You’re running around all day. Waking up early, getting dressed, undressed, standing in heels, hugging a million people you don’t know, lugging the presents up to your apartment after, or even worse…you might jump right onto a plane and the second you get to your hotel you’re jet-lagged and beat. You’ll probably draw straws for who can just lay there while the other person does the work.”
“Wow, thanks for that thought of encouragement.” I pull my towel around my chest and rest my forehead on my knees. “I was really looking forward to that night. First time with him as my husband.” My heart thumps hard when the word tumbles out. “He unzips my wedding dress, and I rip off his tie. We’re on a California King somewhere tropical and fun.” The honeymoon had better be somewhere tropical. My Southern ass freezes here on Long Island. I constantly have to put my feet against Landon’s legs to warm them up at night.
I blow out a breath, making the line fuzz. “Kind of ruins the whole picture if you’re telling me the sex will suck.”
“I’m just saying you’ll be tired.”
“I’ve been tired before and had epic sex.” Landon was gone for a month visiting his parents, and I jumped him the second he got off the plane. It was four in the morning, I hadn’t slept all night, and he was majorly jet-lagged. Did not matter at all. We started up in the car, he had me screaming in the front seat, screaming against the door when we got home, and we made it as far as the living room couch before landing double-fudge raspberry cheesecake together.
But that was, oh hell…I don’t know, a year ago? Maybe more.
“Well, do whatever you did that time.” Theresa laughs, and I sort of chuckle with her, my buzzed brain skipping tracks left and right. It was epic sex because we’d been waiting for it…anticipating it.
“Hmm…”
“What?” she asks through a yawn.
I pull at the bath mat again. “Do you think…?” My thoughts steal my voice as they run through my head. Sex with Landon is good. Always fun. It’s just not new. It’s…longtime-relationship sex. Scheduled, predictable, and usually ends with a snoring Landon and a bowl of ice cream. So how can I make sure I land a ticket to Chocolateville the day we become husband and wife? Oh my hell…will we even have sex on our wedding night?
Theresa clears her throat. “Do I think what?”
“You think maybe…we should wait?”
“Wait for what?”
“Like no sex until that night. Then it’ll be amazing because we’ll be dying for it.” It’s ridiculous. I don’t think Landon will go for it. But Theresa will tell me if I’m totally craz—
“I’ve heard of couples doing that,” she says, her tired voice picking up. “Sounds like a test in great restraint if you ask me, but also could be…well, fun.”
“You think?”
“Totally. When was the last time you guys went as far as you could without going there? I think it’s exciting. Might bring something back…”
I want to defend my sex life, but my mind is on the track she painted. My heart warms and thumps as a grin spreads across my face. Foreplay without sex could amp us both up so much our wedding night will be one I can guarantee we won’t forget. I have to clench my legs together just thinking about it.
It will be like new relationship sex all over again.
“Landon probably won’t go for it.”
She yawns again, and I look at the Beetlejuice clock on the bathroom counter. It’s 2:39 in the morning, and she hasn’t said a single word about waking her up in the middle of the night. I love my best friend.
“No harm in asking, right?”
“I guess.”
“Then just ask.”
I set my jaw. “I will tomorrow. He’s totally crashed out.”
“Of course he is.” She makes a noise like she’s stretching, and I automatically stretch too. “And you have to show me the ring tomorrow.”
“As soon as I get it.”
“It’s not on your finger?”
I stare at my bare hand. “Not yet. He said it’s somewhere in the apartment, but, well, we got distracted.”
She lets out a tired laugh. “Clearly.”
“Okay, you can sleep.”
“I’m good, I promise. I can still talk if you want.”
I shake my head, smiling at the floor. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Love you. Congratulations!”
“Love you, too.”
I press the end button and let my head fall back to the wall. If someone had asked me this morning if I thought I’d feel like this right now, I would’ve laughed in their face. As weighted as I felt when I woke up on day fourteen of the missing Flo, I didn’t think it was possible to float ever again. But I hug my phone and the towel to my chest, smiling like a fool at the bathroom ceiling, wondering why I’m not up there bouncing.
I’m engaged.
Engaged.
Best. Day. Ever.
Chapter 3
I stand in the kitchen, hands firm on my hips while I cluck my tongue. “Where in the hell?” I whisper, eyes skating over every surface in my apartment. The junk drawer is empty, contents strewn over the counter. Our card table is piled with Landon’s jeans, each one with the pockets outturned. The living room looks like it barfed Rubbermaid bins.
And still no sign of a ring!
The first ray of sunlight streams through the balcony blinds, and a leap goes through my tummy. “The balcony storage!” I all but holler, my stride dead set on that sliding glass door even though I’m only in my ugly (but totally comfortable and warm) orange pajama shorts and clashing green tank top with no bra. The chill in the September air makes my nipples instantly perk a
s I step outside.
We seriously need to put up a wind chime or maybe a chair or something out here. It’s so plain, just the wood that needs a coat of varnish and a door on the right that leads to storage. We only keep our bikes in there, but Landon could’ve put the ring on a hook or in his helmet, or something. Because if it’s inside, either it’s up his ass or imaginary.
The door slightly creaks as I pull it open, and I flick on the dusty light, careful about where I step in case there’s a giant spider in here. I check the helmets, the hooks along the wall, even inside the cobwebby water bottles attached to our bikes. Seriously…where did he hide—
“I’d put on a jacket if you’re going for a ride.”
My stomach leaps into my throat and my feet leave the ground. “Shit! Don’t do that!”
Landon scratches his bare abs, then settles his hand on the door frame. His dark hair is flattened on one side of his head, and there are pillow lines across his cheek.
“It’s not out here.” He grins.
I let my heart go down to normal beats per minute, then slide past him to get back inside. His hands latch onto my waist, and he hugs me from behind. His body is warm. It’s always warm. He’s like my own personal heater.
“Where is it?” I ask, linking my fingers through his over my bellybutton.
“What? No good morning, how’d you sleep?”
“Morning.” I tap his knuckles. “Where is it?”
His soft laughter tickles the small hairs on my neck. “I hid it.”
“Where?”
He sweeps my scraggly blond ponytail across my shoulders, placing playful kisses on my skin. Curse his power of distraction.
“I gotta get ready for work,” he says into my ear. I shiver like I’m still standing out on the balcony, and he chuckles and squeezes my hand twice. I squeeze back once.
“Oh, by all means, take your time getting the ring on my finger. You know how patient I am.”
“It’ll be on your hand before I leave today.”
He nips at my shoulder again, then weaves through the obstacle course I created in the living room. I pout behind his back, playing with my bare ring finger. I need a distraction, or I’ll tear this place apart even more.