Wanting What I Shouldn't

Chapter 51

   She's nervous, and a little scared.

   I can see it in her eyes as she looks at the entrance to the jet. My arm finds it's way around her waist again and she looks over at me, her big emerald eyes swirling with different emotions.

   "It's okay mi amor, I won't let anything happen to you," I reassure her, my voice steady and soft. She looks at me so warmly with a small smile "I know," she whispers, placing her left hand over mine that's wrapped around her waist, our rings scrapping against each other for a second.

   She smiles at the noise and so do I. Finally.

   Finally she's my wife.

   This beautiful, smart, gorgeous, sexy, funny, loving, caring, magnificent woman is finally my wife. And I can shove it in everyone's faces. I can hold her close and kiss her all the time, knowing she won't just break up with me and not be there when I wake up in the morning.

   She's my literal everything.

   And hell, I'm going to show her that while we're on our honeymoon. I'll give her anything she wants, but her whatever she wants.

We could go home with a whole new fucking car and I wouldn't care the least bit.

One of my flight attendants pokes her head out, giving me a smile "The plane is ready for take off sir, whenever you and Mrs. Grey are ready." Amara immediately looks over at the flight attendant and her lips purse slightly. I gently pinch her side with my fingers and she yelps, slapping my hand and looking over at me with a little scowl.

I bend down to her level, kissing my name tattooed behind her ear before kissing her cheek again, "Don't be jealous, I'm all yours, and only yours."

Amara smiles to herself, "Damn right."

A chuckle leaves me and her chest rises with a heavy breath, looking back up at me with nervous eyes. "Is it scary?" She asks, stepping out of my hold and taking a few tentative steps forward.

My eyes watch her intently, the way her jean shorts hug her ass, the way her button up white shirt stays tucked into her jean shorts perfectly, the cuffed sleeves framing her arms because she's rolled them up to her elbow. She has brown sandals on and a brown belt wrapped around her waist, her phone stuck in her back pocket and gold sunglasses sat neatly on her head. Her beautiful long brown hair pulled back in a messy bun, random strands falling out misbehaving.

She turns her head, looking at me from over her shoulder "Hubby?" She questions and I blink, my heart stuttering at the nick name.

Finally she can call me that.

Snapping out of my thoughts I walk to her side, bending down and kissing her cheek, "No love, it's not. But if you do get scared I'll hold you in my arms until you feel safe again." Her shoulders drop at my words, some tension leaving her eyes at my words.

It's true.

Damn she doesn't even have to be scared for me to hold her. I could hold her forever and not want to let her go.

"C'mon mi amor, it's alright," my voice is a soft murmur, calming even. Amara nods, reaching over and grabbing my hand with hers.

Carefully she takes another step forward, her hand tightening around mine as she pulls in a sharp breath. I take a step in front of her, stepping into the jet and showing her that it's alright. A soft, reassuring smile spreads across my lips and she locks eyes with me.

Her beautiful emerald eyes.

They remind me of the brightest forests, the ones thriving with life. Bright green and dark green all at once.