Only Trick

“More than me?”

Trick stills, his mouth a breath away from mine. He stares at my lips and then flits his eyes to mine. A lip twitch. “No.” He moves to capture my kiss, but I pull away.

“Oh my God! Did you have to think about it?”

In the darkness his teeth shine white. He grabs my waist, stealing my breath as he lifts me to him. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me to the house.

“You hesitated!” I clench his hair and tug it, making him look at me.

He tries to dip his head down to my neck.

“You hesitated!”

As he carries me up the stairs to our bedroom, I keep a firm grip on his hair.

“I married you.”

“Because they wouldn’t give you a marriage license to marry your stupid bike.”

Plopping me down on the bed, he straddles me. His face so close to mine our noses touch. “Now there’s no need for name calling, and I hesitated because I couldn’t believe you even asked.” He drops slow kisses on my face. “My bike makes me feel good about my hard work. It’s the nicest thing I’ve purchased with my own money.” He slides his hand behind my head. “You make me feel good about myself. You’re not my possession…” he presses his lips to mine, our tongues colliding in an explosion of need “…but I still want to possess … every … inch … of … you.”

I close my eyes. His mouth skims down my neck to my shoulder, across my collarbone, and down to my breast.

“Possess me …” I breathe out.

My husband … dear God … my husband stands and removes the rest of his clothes and pulls off my lace panties. “I have the most beautiful wife.” Trick kisses the inside of my ankle and makes the moment an eternity … an infinity of love. Lips, breath, tongue, hands, and every other inch of his body worships mine like I’m his religion and this bed is our church. And I swear his love is God sent and his touch is a glimpse of Heaven here on Earth.

“Trick … it’s too much,” I plead as he brings me to the precipice over and over. Buried inside me, he drives me to ecstasy and then pulls out and tortures my sensitive nipples, my neck, my lips, and the occasional swipe of his tongue along my swollen sex. I am a feather’s touch away from orgasm or death … it could go either way at this point. The tangled sweaty mess of bed sheets has become typical of our love making that’s really a marathon or sexual torture, depending on the night.

He flips me so I’m on top of him, sweaty and dizzy with so much need I can barely sit up. Grabbing my hips he guides me until he’s lined up to my entrance, and then he brings me down onto him so hard we both cry out as I collapse onto his chest. Our mouths absorb our moans stirred by his last few deep strokes into me.

“S-so good…” I pant into his neck “…that was … so … good.”

“Agreed.” Trick chuckles with his hands still tangled in my hair. He rolls us to the side and grins. “Wife.”

I grin. “Husband.”

After long minutes of post-coital bliss, Trick rubs a few strands of my hair between his fingers with a glazed look in his eyes. “Why’d you say yes?”

I stare at my finger tracing the sanskrit on his abs. I’ve done it so many times every symbol has found its own etching in my mind. “Because you asked.”

He laughs. “But you didn’t have to say yes.”

“You’re wrong.”

“How’s that?” His muscles contract under my touch.

“Because anything else would have been a lie.” I glance up at him.

He nods. It’s subtle, but I see it. I’m attuned to a million little things about this man that I’m certain nobody else sees. Each little twitch, flinch, slow nod, or drawn out blink holds significance. These are the times I feel his thoughts. These undefined emotions mean so much.

“Why did you ask me to marry you?”

“I wanted you to know that I belong to you.” Leaning forward he kisses me.

The profoundness of his words steals my breath. He didn’t marry me to take anything; he did it to give me everything.

He yanks the knotted sheet loose and covers our naked bodies, pulling me closer until my nose finds home in its favorite spot at the crook of his neck.

“Goodnight, wife.”

“Goodnight, husband.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Our sheer shades invite nature’s alarm—the sun. I roll to nuzzle, but my nose finds nothing but pillow. There should be a law against waking up alone after your marriage ceremony night. I reach for the sheet that has drifted down my naked body, needing to erase the goose bumps from the chilly morning air.