flowers?”
“Yes. That would be lovely.” I squeal in excitement.
“Since I won’t be tossing a bouquet, might as well.” She hands me the bunch and carefully removes the crown of flowers from her head and places the arrangement over my hair.
“Oh, thank you! This will make it perfect.” My voice cracks with emotion. “I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”
“To you as well,” she responds as her bride pulls her to the door. Well, apparently we aren’t the only ones in a rush.
I turn to face my groom. When our eyes meet, a smile tugs on the corners of his lips. His eyes study me from the stilettoes to the flowers in my hair. His fingers lightly touch the petals and then he brushes his knuckles along my heated cheeks. “You are a perfect mix of sex and purity. Goddamn, woman. You’re killing me.”
An instant smile blooms on my face. The officiator clears his throat in an apparent attempt to speed things up.
“We are gathered here today. . . .” He proceeds to speak the words that will unite me to this man—this stranger. However, his voice becomes only a hum in the background.
Mesmerized, I do a leisurely examination of the man I’m marrying. If there were fairness in this world, the dictionary would provide one word to describe him. Because handsome, attractive, striking, good-looking, hot, exquisite or stunning just won’t suffice.
As I continue to study him, I question my reasons for this insane act. Insanity, drunkenness, or just shallowness?
Yeah, I could lie to myself until I’m blue in the face and say it’s because I’m drunk. Which I am.
Or just say I’m shallow. Seth is, after all, a drop-dead gorgeous male.
I can even tell myself I’m reckless, impulsive, or outright and insanely horny.
However, there’s an underlying reason for me to have agreed to this craziness. I just don’t know it yet.
But one thing I know. Whatever is driving me to do this, it is beyond Seth’s perfectly chiseled body, or his sharp jaws, or the little indentation in his chin, or his magnetic smile. It’s beyond the need to get laid while fulfilling the silly dream of marrying a virgin.
I also question what drove Seth to marry me. It’s hard to understand what I see in the depths of his eyes. They have a familiarity, a darkness, a vulnerability, and a deep yearning. When he looks at me with such intensity, it kindles a sincere desire to know more. To comprehend him.
“You all right?” he asks, pulling me back to the moment.
I nod and smile.
“Here,” he says, reaching for my hand. “With this ring I’m yours. Body, mind, and soul. I promise to do my best to get to know you and honor this day.” He slides the delicate wedding band that accompanies the massive princess cut diamond he had placed on my hand earlier.
I position his band on his finger and stare at him. “With this ring I’m yours. Body, mind, and soul. I promise I’ll do my best to get to know you and honor this day.” I repeat his simple vows. First, because I can’t come up with anything. Secondly, because I like the simplicity of his words.
It might be the epitome of silliness, but as I slip the ring on his finger, tears wet my cheeks.
“You may kiss your bride.” Elvis duly declares.
“Wait. We need a picture,” I say. “Do you have my cell phone?”
Seth fishes his pocket for it and hands it to Cher. Then he looks at me. His stare is of primal possession, raw ownership. As if he’s a man who never had any possessions and was suddenly faced with something of his very own. I’m not into the whole caveman thing, but his domineering gaze makes me ache in areas that are totally new to me.
He gathers my face in his hands, and his lips seize mine. It’s an all-consuming kiss. My heart soars free from its cage. It doesn’t fly very far because I can feel it when it lands inside Seth’s chest.
Seth pulls away slightly, and with his forehead touching mine, he whispers against my lips, “Let’s get the hell
“Yes. That would be lovely.” I squeal in excitement.
“Since I won’t be tossing a bouquet, might as well.” She hands me the bunch and carefully removes the crown of flowers from her head and places the arrangement over my hair.
“Oh, thank you! This will make it perfect.” My voice cracks with emotion. “I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”
“To you as well,” she responds as her bride pulls her to the door. Well, apparently we aren’t the only ones in a rush.
I turn to face my groom. When our eyes meet, a smile tugs on the corners of his lips. His eyes study me from the stilettoes to the flowers in my hair. His fingers lightly touch the petals and then he brushes his knuckles along my heated cheeks. “You are a perfect mix of sex and purity. Goddamn, woman. You’re killing me.”
An instant smile blooms on my face. The officiator clears his throat in an apparent attempt to speed things up.
“We are gathered here today. . . .” He proceeds to speak the words that will unite me to this man—this stranger. However, his voice becomes only a hum in the background.
Mesmerized, I do a leisurely examination of the man I’m marrying. If there were fairness in this world, the dictionary would provide one word to describe him. Because handsome, attractive, striking, good-looking, hot, exquisite or stunning just won’t suffice.
As I continue to study him, I question my reasons for this insane act. Insanity, drunkenness, or just shallowness?
Yeah, I could lie to myself until I’m blue in the face and say it’s because I’m drunk. Which I am.
Or just say I’m shallow. Seth is, after all, a drop-dead gorgeous male.
I can even tell myself I’m reckless, impulsive, or outright and insanely horny.
However, there’s an underlying reason for me to have agreed to this craziness. I just don’t know it yet.
But one thing I know. Whatever is driving me to do this, it is beyond Seth’s perfectly chiseled body, or his sharp jaws, or the little indentation in his chin, or his magnetic smile. It’s beyond the need to get laid while fulfilling the silly dream of marrying a virgin.
I also question what drove Seth to marry me. It’s hard to understand what I see in the depths of his eyes. They have a familiarity, a darkness, a vulnerability, and a deep yearning. When he looks at me with such intensity, it kindles a sincere desire to know more. To comprehend him.
“You all right?” he asks, pulling me back to the moment.
I nod and smile.
“Here,” he says, reaching for my hand. “With this ring I’m yours. Body, mind, and soul. I promise to do my best to get to know you and honor this day.” He slides the delicate wedding band that accompanies the massive princess cut diamond he had placed on my hand earlier.
I position his band on his finger and stare at him. “With this ring I’m yours. Body, mind, and soul. I promise I’ll do my best to get to know you and honor this day.” I repeat his simple vows. First, because I can’t come up with anything. Secondly, because I like the simplicity of his words.
It might be the epitome of silliness, but as I slip the ring on his finger, tears wet my cheeks.
“You may kiss your bride.” Elvis duly declares.
“Wait. We need a picture,” I say. “Do you have my cell phone?”
Seth fishes his pocket for it and hands it to Cher. Then he looks at me. His stare is of primal possession, raw ownership. As if he’s a man who never had any possessions and was suddenly faced with something of his very own. I’m not into the whole caveman thing, but his domineering gaze makes me ache in areas that are totally new to me.
He gathers my face in his hands, and his lips seize mine. It’s an all-consuming kiss. My heart soars free from its cage. It doesn’t fly very far because I can feel it when it lands inside Seth’s chest.
Seth pulls away slightly, and with his forehead touching mine, he whispers against my lips, “Let’s get the hell
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