Revealing Kane

43 - Getting Warmer

I'm so excited that John and I are finally getting a little honeymoon! We've been married well over a year, Jack is over a year old, and we can finally get away. I can't wait to relax and have fun with my husband.

John surprised me with the trip just days ago. I had been at a shoot when Diane called and asked me to come to the agency when I was done. She had a message for me. What? From who? I was thoroughly confused right up until the moment I was handed a fax. John, who was working in the States, had sent the fax to the agency. Why hadn't he just called the house?

I had looked at the paper, my cheeks burning in embarrassed wonder as I read the facsimile of John's written words.

Barbados or Bermuda?
Regular room or private cabana?
Early or late flight?
Car or mopeds?
Grandparents - which ones?

What the hell was all of that supposed to mean? And why did John choose to ask me in that fashion? Under the cryptic questions was a US phone number - New York going by the area code  - and the sentence, fax back your answers straightaway. What the hell is this man up to? was all I could think.

Turns out, John was trying to be romantic but wanted my immediate input. I had written my answers and asked Diane to fax my sheet back to the number John had written. After I had returned home that night, John called and explained everything to me. He was taking me on our very delayed honeymoon.

So now, we are on our way to Barbados. We took the early flight as I asked, we will have a private cabana, and John's parents are watching Jack for the week we are away (mine were on their own vacation to California). I can't wait to lie in the sun, drink fruity drinks, and enjoy every moment with John. We deserve this break.

"Baby," John whispers as he leans across my armrest toward me. "Let's go fuck in the plane bathroom."

"John!" I say, playfully sounding indignant while my internal temperature rises. "We'll get caught."

"No, we won't. I've bribed the stewardess. She's a fan," he tells me, looking at the woman, giving her his bright smile and winking.

I watch as she turns bright red and squirms. If I weren't here, she'd probably try to fuck John in the bathroom herself. And that only makes me madder.

"Are you kidding me?" I harshly whisper. "What about the other passengers? They'll know what we're doing."

"So? Why do you care what they think?"

"Oh, maybe because we're going to be on this plane for nine hours," I argue.

"Which is exactly why we should do it. Something to while away the hours," John responds.

"It'll take less than ten minutes, and you know it," I snap, and John pretends to be offended.

"At least fifteen," he jokes, and I try my best not to laugh. "Come on, sweetheart. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Being overruled by plain sense. This isn't the place for sex," I scold, but John mimics my staunch position. "Stop it."

"I guess I'll just have to go relieve myself then," John tells me and gets to his feet.

My mouth drops open as John strides away from me. Is he serious? We're supposed to be together and enjoying one another, not bickering about inappropriate sex. Annoyed, I throw down my book and follow in the direction John went.

As I walk near the lavatories in the middle of the plane, the door to one flies open, and John grabs my wrist. He's grinning at me as he hauls me into the confined space. When I'm fully in, he shuts and bolts the door.