Meadowlarks (34 page)

             
“Remember it's only a twenty minute run.” She quietly laughs and whispers. “Just how hard are you baby?”

             
“I'm built Ford tough.” I laugh at myself and appreciate she probably doesn't get the reference.

             
“Well, whatever you are, you're mine. I'm in bed, too.”

             
“Addison Cole, I want you here right now. I want that mouth around me.”

             
She's quiet for a beat.               “Give me ten minutes.”

             
No way. I've actually convinced my own fiancée to sneak out of our house and come here to have sex with me on the night before or wedding.               Ten minutes seems like an eternity. I fight the sleep, but it wins and I pass out.

             
She's a woman of her word. She wakes me up by doing exactly what I said I wanted her to do. She's got me engulfed in her mouth, and my hands search the dark room for her. When I feel her long hair, I grip tightly and push my hips up, deepening myself in her throat.

             
“Baby...” I breathe heavily. Just before I let go, she stops. My stomach is heaving like I'm a bottle full of baking soda and someone just shook me after dousing me with vinegar.

Quickly, she's on top of me, and in seconds, I'm inside of her. She cries out, and I grab her.
              Turning both of our bodies so I'm on top of her, I lift her shirt up and hungrily devour her beautiful chest.

             
“Get on your stomach,” I groan and whip my shirt over my head.               I slide out of her warmth, and she moans. Turning over onto her stomach, she lies flat, and I straddle her legs. I’m slowly easing myself back into her depths, pushing my pelvis down as much as I can into her backside. She buries her face in the mattress and loudly moans something incoherent.

             
“You like that, baby?” I thrust and almost blow my own mind.

             
“Yes!” she hisses, and I lean down so I'm right on top of her. I push in and pull out, over and over, kissing and biting the back of her shoulders and neck.

             
There's something about booze that puts a little rage in my bones. To put it as blunt as I possibly can: I just want to fuck her silly. Stupid, even. I want to tear the sheets and break the headboard. Sweat drips from my forehead and lands on her back, and I'm not even close to being done yet.

             
“You okay?” I try and catch my breath.

             
“Mmm, better than okay,” she moans. “Your turn to lay down.”

             
She gets to her knees, and I sit up. She pushes me back on to the bed and turns around so she's facing away. I'm still rock hard, and I push in inch by inch, filling her.

She quickly
sits and throws her head back. “Ahhhh! Hold my hands, baby.” She reaches back, and I hold them; she's using them as leverage while she rides me backwards. The sensation is like nothing I've ever felt; it's an intense pain and pleasure combined, completely exhilarating, and I feel like I could break in two.

             
She lets go of my hands and grinds down as hard as she can, rocking back and forth. I grip her hips and surge with frenzy.

             
“Holy shit. Oh, my...Ahhh!” I can't even see straight, except for little star bursts in my eyelids from squeezing them closed so hard. “Fuuuuuck!”

             
She moans loudly, and her beautiful voice lets out small whimpers. She's trying to keep it down, but it's not working. She falls back on top of me, and I slowly pull out of her pulsating heat.

             
“Where did that come from?” She breathes.

             
I wrap my arms around her chest and caress her breasts slowly. She rolls off and lies on her stomach, her head on the pillow.

             
“How did you get here?” I manage to ask after my breath finally slows.

             
“I drove my car.” She looks like I've expecting her to run or something to Jeremiah's house.

             
“Oh. Here I was hoping you crept in all mysteriously.”

             
“Well, kind of. I parked down the road, and they're so drunk out there they didn't even see me sneak by them.”

             
I laugh and kiss her cheek.               “I love it.”

             
“But I have to go.”

             
“What? No!”

             
“Umm, yes! Go to sleep.” She sits up and searches for her clothing, quickly dressing.

             
I pout and run my hand on my chest, down to my still somewhat hardness, gripping my girth.               “I can't sleep now.”

             
“Blaine!” she whispers, giggling. “You are insatiable.” And with that, she turns on her heel and leaves, closing the door behind her.

             
“That girl…” I smile and sigh.

             
My ranch looks like something out of a country fairy tale. Pale pink and white fabric hangs from posts on either side of the seating area, draping across the aisle that I'm about to walk down. Mason jars with small light bulbs in them are hanging with twine from the corners, and big white paper flowers in delicate bunches look like clouds in the evening sky. Each wooden chair has sheer linen wrapped around the back, tied with twine and the same pale pink colored tulips woven into the twine.

             
Maria and Kelsey are magic; I'll admit it. You have to spend time on every little detail, or you might miss something. At the end of the aisle an arbour stands, made out of my old fence posts. I wondered where Jeremiah had taken them. It's amazing and rustic, a large spray of pink and white tulips on the top. A whimsical
B + A
is engraved into one of the posts surrounded by a heart, just like the ones people carve into trunks of trees.
See,
details
.

             
In the reception tent, people are everywhere, finishing last minute things, making it perfect for us. Three long rows of tables flow down the space of the tent. The giant beams holding up the peaks are wrapped with the same pink and white fabric, and tiny white lights are underneath the sheets, giving off a pretty glow.

For the
centerpieces, bunches and bunches of tulips are set into jars full of water and sliced lemons. Candles float in tiny Mason jars, each with a label and a name on it, placing a guest at a certain seat.

             
At the head table, a large wooden banner, just like the one at the entrance to the ranch, is hung from the corners of the tent with
B + A
painted onto the wood.

             
“Well? What do you think?” Maria surprises me, and I turn to hug her.

             
“This is just beautiful, Maria. I can't thank you enough.”

             
“You better thank your wife; she was the one with all the ideas and spent most of the night and morning out here. I don't even think she's slept!”

             
I'm sure our rendezvous last night recharged her battery, and I chuckle to myself, thinking of her sneaking into my bed last night.

             
By four twenty-two, I'm standing in wait. I'm nervous; my palms are sweaty, and I keep fidgeting with the buttons on the cuffs of my shirt, my belt buckle, anything I can get my hands. Jeremiah helped me pick out my clothes—not a first for us, since he got me clothes last year when I was in the hospital. I’m wearing my jeans, boots and a white button-up shirt, and I bought a white Resistol hat just for today.

             
Jeremiah, Alex and my brothers match me but wear no hats. Also, instead of white shirts, Maria got them all the pale pink like the rest of the fabric and tulips.

             
“Real men can wear pink,” she said when she pulled the shirts out of the bag, and all of them turned up their lips or noses. She won that one.

             
Riley, Zoe, Leah and Camille are all in matching cotton dresses, pale pink, just as you'd expect. The dresses are knee length, and they're all wearing cowboy boots. Perfectly beautiful.

             
Each of them begin walking down the aisle in turn, slowly to the soft guitar gently playing behind us. Riley is wearing a white ribbon around her waist, tied in a bow above her belly like a present. She's glowing, and I look at Alex. He smiles at her, and I'm sure he looks like he could cry.

             
The moment I turn my head back to look down the aisle, I see her. I drop my jaw and instantly cover my mouth with my hands. Like a child coming down the stairs at Christmas and seeing piles of presents, I'm awestruck.

             
Her father has his arm looped through hers, and he walks her down to me. She's wearing the most beautiful dress I've ever seen, a strapless top that clings to her chest and stomach, flowing down and widening into small tiers of fabric, hanging just above her knees.               She’s got on matching boots with her bridesmaids. Her long red hair spills over her shoulders in perfect curled tendrils, her bangs swept to the side and pinned by a small silver clip. I can feel the tingle in my eyes when I see that she's wearing my mom's pearls, and I can see my dad notices, too, because he almost gasps in his seat when she walks by him.

             
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the preacher asks.

             
“Her mother and I do.” Richard wipes a tear from his eye with a white handkerchief and kisses his daughter on her cheek, then turns to sit down beside his sobbing wife.

“Hi,” Addison says, smiling sweetly up at me.

                            “You are so beautiful.” I choke the words out, still in complete shock at what's standing next to me.

             
“Not too bad yourself,” she whispers and squeezes my hand.

             
The preacher gives his speech about marriage and love, and he reads some beautiful verses from the Bible. The three simplest words he speaks are from 1
st
Corinthians:
Love never fails.

             
“I do believe you two have your own vows?” he asks.

We both nod.

              “Addison, if you will.” He holds out his hand, and she swallows and inhales deeply.

             
“Blaine.” She looks at me, and I'm locked in her big blues. “Today and every day to come I will love you with everything I am. You are my best friend, the answer to all of my prayers. I promise to cherish you always, encourage and support you, and share in your joys and sorrows. Because of you I laugh, and I smile, I even giggle. You are the reason my heart beats every day. God gave me you. Take this ring as a symbol of my eternal love for you.” She takes my hand and slides the titanium band on my finger.

             
“Blaine...” The preacher motions for me to begin, and I quickly snap out of my trance and clear my throat.

             
Here goes...

             
“Addy, I sat down and tried to write on paper how much I love you. No words can describe just how much, and how deeply, I'm devoted to you. No embrace will ever be tight enough, no kiss will ever be passionate enough. Your smile is the first thing I wake up to and the last thing I see at night, and with those things I am complete. I promise to always hold you up and support you, to laugh and cry with you, and share myself wholeheartedly. The Lord gave me you, my sweetheart, my angel, my red rose. To the world this band may just be one small thing, but to me, this one small thing is the world. Please wear it as a symbol of my love for you.”

             
She holds out her trembling hand and tears pour from her eyes. I slide the platinum band on her finger and squeeze her hand tightly in my mine.

             
“Addison, do you take Blaine to be your husband in love and life for this day and each day to come as long as you shall live?”

             
“I do.” She smiles and wipes her tears.

             
“Blaine, do you take Addison to be your wife in love and life for this day and each day to come as long as you shall live?”

             
“I do.” I wipe my own tears.

             
“Family and friends, it's my pleasure to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Blackstock! You may kiss your bride!”

             
Everyone stands to cheer and clap, and I pull her into me as close as I can, kissing her perfect lips and holding her hands in mine. My wife, my beautiful wife.

             
Weeks ago we poured over music and finally chose the perfect song; it might as well have been written just for us. We decided on Blake Shelton's “God Gave Me You”, which is exactly what He did; He gave me to her and her to me. We danced to our song, and all of our loved ones stood in a circle around us. A big dinner, some wine and even line dancing later, we were partying the night away.

             
We're sent off by everyone late in the night for our two AM flight to Florida, which will connect us to the British Virgin Islands.

             
I still haven't told her where we're going. She knows about Florida, but that's about as much as I've given. We sit in first class; once the seat belt sign clears, I pull her legs over my lap, and she leans into me.

             
“How are you, Mrs. Blackstock?”

             
“Mmm.” She smiles and kisses my shoulder. “Cloud nine, my love.”

             
Ditto
, I think to myself and lean back in my seat.

             
We were on layover in Florida for two hours, and it feels like the flight to the BVI takes hardly any time at all. Tortola is breathtakingly beautiful, and I momentarily think of listing my ranch and moving here.

             
“Look at how blue the water is!” Addison gazes out her window and beams at the view.

             
“This is where my mom and dad went on their honeymoon.” I picture my mother here, and it warms my heart.

             
“Awe, really?” She smiles. “Thank you for choosing this place for us, too.”

             
We check in and enjoy breakfast on our terrace, which is literally feet from the ocean. I've been married for just over twelve hours, and I haven't made love to my new wife yet. Looking over at her, I feel myself start to harden beneath the glass tabletop.               “Hey, you…”

             
“Hey, you.” She smiles, peeling her eyes for just a second to look at me, then right back to the landscape.

             
“I want to make love to my wife.”

             
“Oh! Do you?” She laughs and picks up a strawberry. I know exactly what she's going to do with that berry, but she surprises me when she just winks and pops the whole thing in her mouth, biting down and chewing it.

             
“Okay, well. If my wife would rather do something else...”

             
“Actually,” she says as she sits up in her chair, “let's go out!”

             
What's that famous saying?
Happy wife, happy life?
Yeah, that's the one.               I agree, and we go out. Martina gave me a bunch of brochures when I booked our honeymoon.

             
We swim with dolphins, and it’s amazing. It costs a small fortune for something that only lasts about twenty minutes, but it’s worth it. Later we tour a replica pirate ship, and I get to set off a cannon, which delights the kid in me.

             
We decide on dinner at a restaurant instead of eating in, and we choose a bustling place with a wide open patio and wine bottles lining the shelves on the walls. A tasty combination of Caribbean spices and sauces made our meals outstanding; we order steak and fish to share plates, even though we want to order everything on the menu. I try a local beer, which is better than I expect, so I order and drink four more. Champagne is served when nine o'clock hits, and everyone in the bar toasts and drinks. I sure could get used to this place.

             
“Are you ready to have your wife now?” She leans in and whispers in my ear.

             
I put my beer down, and raise my hand to ask for our bill.

             
“I guess that's a yes.” She laughs and takes my hand.

             
When we walk in the suite, the smell of the sea fills the room, and the cool breeze feels so good on my heated skin. I lift her hand and kiss her ring finger, her wedding set glistening in the light of the room.

             
“Come outside.” I take her hand, and we walk out onto our terrace; to the right is a wading pool. The water is filled right to the edges, so it almost looks like it's got a glass lid on it. I undress her slowly; her shorts fall to the ground, and I kiss her shoulder and cheek. Off goes the shirt and, making my way down, I unclasp her bra, and it falls with the rest of the clothes. Lower and lower, I reach her hips and kiss across the small of her back. We opted not to do the garter thing at our reception, so I'm taking the opportunity now to pull down her panties with my teeth. I kiss all the way back up her body, tiny sparks on my lips from her skin with each alluring touch.

             
She walks down and steps into the pool, the moonlight showering her beautiful body as she slips beneath the water. I take off my khaki shorts and my t-shirt, kick off my shoes and slowly submerge into our own private haven.

             
“Your vows were the most beautiful words I've ever heard. I had the biggest lump in my throat while you were saying them to me.” She sits in my lap, her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms resting on my shoulders.