calm down.
But as our party wrapped up, I couldn’t stop thinking about sex with him, picturing him naked, imagining his body moving over mine. What was it going to be like sharing a bed with him? Would I even be able to sleep?
This is ridiculous, I kept telling myself. You can’t break the no-sex rule. You were the one who put it in the contract to begin with. Fine, this isn’t the wedding night you once dreamed of, but remember why you’re doing this in the first place.
But my body was having a hard time letting my mind stay at the wheel.
“Everything okay?” Enzo asked me on the ride over to his house. We were going to drop off the wedding presents we’d received, and he needed to grab a few things for the overnight stay at the inn.
“Fine,” I said, careful not to look at him.
“You seem quiet all of a sudden.”
“I’m just tired.”
“Me too.” He yawned. “Getting married is fucking exhausting.”
“Having a baby will be worse.”
“True.” He paused. “Speaking of which, when do we go in for the first attempt?”
“I have an appointment with the fertility specialist next week. Because I don’t ovulate normally, I’ll have to take some preliminary steps to make sure we know exactly when it will happen, and then time the insemination right. There’s a drug I have to take.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Not much. Show up and get off.”
“I prefer provide a sample, please,” he said haughtily. “Don’t cheapen it.”
I laughed, in spite of everything. “Just make sure it’s a good one. We need the gold-medal swimmers.”
“How dare you imply I have any other kind?”
“Speaking of which.” I shifted in the passenger seat to face him. “What are you going to think about?”
“When?”
“While you’re, you know, providing the sample. What will you think about?”
He frowned. “Jesus, Bianca. I don’t know.”
“Porny stuff?”
“Probably. Am I supposed to think about the Holy Ghost or something? Because I don’t think that will result in my best work.”
“It doesn’t have to be religious,” I said. “Just not anything too . . . you know, skeevy.”
“What if your definition of skeevy isn’t the same as mine? We’ve never hooked up, so I don’t know if you’re totally vanilla or like a little kink.”
“What kind of kink?” I asked, curious.
“Any kind. Bondage, blindfolds, role play.”
“I’ve never done anything like that,” I confessed. But now I was thinking about it. Would I let him blindfold me? Tie me up? Would I trust him not to hurt or humiliate me? I wasn’t sure.
“I’d be happy to test your limits—all in the name of research, of course.”
“You know what? Never mind,” I said, crossing my legs a little tighter. “Think about whatever you want. It’s really none of my business.”
I stayed silent after that. What the hell was wrong with me, anyway? I needed to stop allowing my hormones to make this thing between us into something it wasn’t.
My limits already felt tested.
Around ten o’clock that night, Enzo unlocked the door to the Bellamy Creek Inn’s honeymoon suite. He pushed it open and looked back at me. “Want me to carry you over the threshold?”
I rolled my eyes and dragged my suitcase into the room. “So you can threaten to drop me again? That won’t be necessary.”
He let the door close behind him, dropped his leather bag on the floor, and yawned.
I ditched my heels and flopped back onto the king-sized bed, which was decorated with faux rose petals and two giant pillows that said MR. and MRS. on them. Over on the table by the window was an ice bucket holding a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and a box of chocolates.
Enzo wandered over to it. “Oh, look. They left us a note. ‘Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Moretti. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable. Cheers to your future.’”
I propped myself up on my elbows. “Everyone’s so happy for us. It’s making me feel bad.”
“I know.” Loosening the knot in his tie, he came over to the bed, where he flopped onto his back beside me in a sea of fake rose petals, some of which fluttered around us like confetti. “But it’s done.”
I sighed. “It’s done.”
He looked over at me. “So now what do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
“The bar downstairs is already closed.”
“I’m too tired to go back out anyway.”
“Same.” He yawned again. “Should we just go to bed?”
My bare toes curled. “I guess.”
“I can’t wait to get this suit off.”