I Ate the Apple

Chapter 16

We did it. We got rings first and then we go the license, and then we got married by a priest at our church, and now it's the next morning, and we're in Florida for our honeymoon.

We had sex last night for the first time ever.

I got up first and threw on his shirt and I have nothing under it.

We're in a beach house and there isn't any snow.

It's seventy degrees here.

It feels like summer.

I'm finished making breakfast and I'm pouring both of us coffee.

I turn around to go upstairs to him with his coffee and I run right into him, spilling the hot beverage all over his shirt.

It's not hot enough to hurt.

"Oh no." he mumbles. He's half awake and he just threw on his boxers. "I guess you're gonna have to take that off." He says, tugging at his shirt on my body.

I smile and give him a long kiss. He deepens it, and I squeeze the liquid onto his boxers.

He looks down and so do I.

"I guess you're gonna have to take those off." I whisper, biting my lip.

He licks his lips and reaches down.

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it over my head.

It was dark in the room last night so he couldn't really see me, but it's really bright in here, and he can see everything.

His licks his lips.

"Damn, you're so beautiful."

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I'm pretty sure we had sex in every place in that house.

Hell, we had sex on the beach.

We had sex anywhere we could.

We went to restaurants too.

I quickly got tired of the sand though.

We haven't told anyone we're married, we just told them we were going on a vacation.

Everyone waited for us to get home. They're all at Kathryn's.

The only thing we argue over it who's truck we're taking.

We took his last time, so it's my turn.

He lifts me right up onto his shoulders.

"You're wearing too many articles of clothing." He mutters under his breath.

He's running with me on his shoulders.

"Channing!" I yell at him.

He lets himself into Kathryn's house.

"Duck." He says.

He ducks and I do too.

We just barely fit under the door.

He shuts the door.

He's too tall.

I'm still leaning.

"This is uncomfortable." I complain.

He sighs loudly, exaggerated.

"Oh, shut up." I laugh. "You're such a fake."

He walks into the living room with me as I say that.

"A fake?" he repeats.

"Yes."