The story of Jasmine and Chris Brown

The honeymoon part 3

            Chris rolls off me, panting. I sink down lower into the water and let the jets rinse off the beam of sweat running down my face. We both recline in our seats and wait for our breaths to return to normal.

“I hope we didn't clog the filter up.” Chris jokes. I laugh

“Me neither.” I say. I take a deep breath and slowly my heart slows back to normal.

“Our photos'll be here soon.” Chris says as he drapes a tanned, worked out arm around me.

“What photos?” I reply, not listening fully.

“Erm...our wedding photos?” Chris says, he pulls a face at me. Making me feel a little like a twat.

“Oh right.” I mumble awkwardly. Chris smiles and shakes his head. Pulling me closer.

            After a while we get out of the hot tub and I realise what the time is. Half three in the morning. I get into a sexy lace nightie I discovered Roxy'd packed for me and get into our huge bed. Probably the same size as the bed Roxy and I shared in our presidential suite.

            Chris got into bed in his pants. He never bothered with pyjamas. I put my head on his chest and he began to play with my hair. “Goodnight, baby. I love you.” He said as he kissed my hair and started humming a sweet melody.

            I fell asleep just as Chris did. The sound of the tune he hummed slowed into nothingness.

            I woke up the next morning feeling well-rested. I stretch my arms like they do in the films and swing out of the now empty bed. Where's Chris? I pull on a silk robe and make my way through many a corridor. After a lot of wrong turns I finally manage to find the stairs. I go down into the kitchen where Chris is sitting at the breakfast bar, watching E! News.

“Anything interesting happen lately?” I ask, he turns and looks up at me, smiling.

“Good morning, baby.” He says softly,getting up and asks. “Wanna cuppa?” In a terrible English accent. I giggle and reply, “Sure thang babes.” In an even worse American accent.

“Comin' right up, gov'na.” He says as he pours the tea. I sit down on the stool next to the one Chris vacated minutes before. I spot an envelope on the bar next to Chris' mug.

“Are these the photos?” I ask as I study the envelope. Chris looks at me and nods.

“I was waiting for you to wake up so we could look at them together.”  He says as he adds sugar and cream to my tea. He stirs it before making his way back over to the seat beside me.

“Well then, lets have a look at these photos.” I say, rubbing my hands together for effect. Chris smiles at me and calls me “mad”. He picks up the envelope and opens the flap neatly. I can't ever do that, it always rips towards the end.

            He pulls out a thick wad of photos. The top one is one of Chris putting me in the car. Must be in backwards order. We flick through and see the pictures of the ceremony. The photographers managed to give me pretty tears, not ugly, red, puffy tears like I thought I was having at the time. We passed all the ceremony photos and got to the morning before. Me in my dress. Chris looking in the mirror checking out his hair. Tyga doing Chris' tie. He's always been useless at doing his own.

            We pass through the photos of me first seeing the car. The photos of me and the girls, my family and I and ones of me on my own. Then we see the grooms pictures. Him and Tyga, him and the rest of the groomsmen and some of him and his family. One in particular made me smile, one of Chris waiting at the end of the aisle. His eyes grinned wider than his mouth.

            We pass through all of these but I notice that there are still quite a few photos we haven't seen yet. What could they be of? I wonder excitedly. There are pictures from our hen night. Not as professionally taken as the wedding pictures but still good enough quality. Pictures of us in the club, necking shots and dancing. Pictures of me and the stripper. Pictures of Emma and Charles flirting and a personal favourite for me, Roxy and Sam passed out in the hot tub.

            After the pictures of my hen night I see a picture of  Tyga, completely drunk and wagging his tongue at the camera. Tyga tucking a ten dollar bill into a pole dancers shorts. Chris, Tyga and the rest of the groomsmen necking a shot. A picture of Tyga and Chris in-front of a giant hamburger each, and another with a giant ice-cream. Tyga squirting whipped cream on a strippers cleavage and another one of the groomsmen holding down Chris' head, making him lick it off.

“So, what did you boys get upto that night?” I ask him. I take a sip of tea and look at him over the rim of the mug. A guilty smile flashes on his face and I know the upcoming story will be one to remember.

“Well, we started off.....” He begins.