TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,49
feel more like an excursion than simply a means to reach to our little bungalow over the water.
“Babe! Come here. You’ve gotta see this shit.”
Reluctantly, I tear myself away from our private deck and the plunge pool—that I can’t wait to hop in—to see what has him so excited.
When I step inside, I find my husband crouched in front of a rectangular hole in the floor of the living area. He’s a wet dream come to life, dressed in his khaki cargo shorts and a tropical print button down. His feet are damn sexy too, adorned in leather flip flops. Add to that his straw hat, and I’m seconds away throwing my panties at him. Who knew the tourist look could be so hot? Then again, my husband could make just about anything look good.
My tongue darts out to lick my lips. I’m ready to tackle him before the fact that there is a massive hole in the floor of our hut registers. “What the heck? You broke the place already?”
“It’s the coffee table…” His finger moves in a come-hither motion, and butterflies swarm in my tummy. “Opens up so you can feed the fish. Come have a look.”
I kneel beside my husband in awe of the beautiful orange, green, and blue fish presently attacking the pellets of food he just dropped. “This is amazing!” My eyes are fixed on a long, skinny fish. He sort of looks like a snake but with fins.
“Sure is,” he rasps.
When I turn, I find him staring at my profile. “Can you believe we’re finally here after all these years?”
The first time we got married, we were college students who could barely afford ramen and gas for our cars. A trip like this was nothing but a dream, but it was our dream.
“I hate that I can’t take you on the honeymoon you deserve.”
I glance up at his gorgeous face from where my head is positioned on his lap, studying my note cards. “You’re all I need.” I reach to his cheek, scrubbing my thumb back and forth over his stubble. “Besides, we’d have just spent the time in a more expensive bed, fucking ourselves into oblivion.” I laugh. “Would’ve been a complete waste of money.”
“Maybe.” He strokes his long fingers through my hair, deep in thought. “If you could go anywhere, have any honeymoon your little heart desired, where would you want to go?”
A picture of aqua water and floating huts I saw on the travel channel comes to mind. “Hmm. If money wasn’t a factor, I’d love to go to Bora Bora someday and stay in one of those thatched houses on the water.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. Blue water. White sand. Sex on the beach.”
“The drink or the ummm…sport?”
I nibble my lip, undressing him with my eyes. “Yes.”
It doesn’t take long before that little tease leads to the two of us naked and sweaty on the living room floor of our tiny apartment, panting from the exertion of yet another round of our favorite “sport.”
“Let’s start planning it,” he says, running his fingers lazily from my shoulder down my arm.
Mindless, and still in a state of orgasmic bliss, I seem to have lost sight of our earlier conversation. “Plan what?” I prop my chin on my arms, which are crossed on his bare chest to meet his eyes.
“Bora Bora.”
He beats a hand on my back when I start choking on my own saliva. “We will never be able to afford that, Liam.”
He shrugs. “Never know…we could end up the next big home design show.”
“You don’t do manual labor.” The idea is so farfetched, but I’m now picturing him with a sledgehammer, demolishing walls, and it’s a really sexy visual.
“With my business degree, I could handle all the finances and paperwork, your dad has the construction crew, and you have the eye…”
I can’t help but smile at his vision. “My, aren’t you just full of dreams tonight?”
“What’s stopping us? There’s nothing wrong with setting goals. Gives us something to work for.”
“I suppose.” I twist my pointer finger in circles around his nipple before lapping it with my tongue.
The sound of his throaty laughter has me clenching my naked thighs together. “Calm down, darlin’, I need a little recovery time,” he warns when I wrap my hand around his length.
“Boo.”
“Pick that lip up.” With a finger he pushes my pouty lip back in. “Throw a shirt and some panties on, I have an idea.”
“I still have it.” Liam interrupts my trip down memory lane, popping to