(THIRD BOOK in the Golden Girl Series)
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"Till death do you part?" The priest finishes off with.
"I do," I answer - knowing how ready I am to die with this man.
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You've been on Amber Marigold's journey since she arrived at Tygerwell. Now join...
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A/N: Just a warning, we have a slightly more kinky chapter ahead. It's not a lot, but it starts off in this chapter so I'll have a skip section for the sensitive, younger readers.
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"Xavy, you should let me serve you sometimes as well. I feel guilty for having you always treat me," I explain as my husband brings me another glass of wine.
"I want to spoil my little wife on her honeymoon, is that so bad?" Xavier asks.
I watch Xavier get into the Jacuzzi as well, dark grey swimming trunks clinging to his hips like he just got off of a swimsuit add. He hands me red wine and we clink our glasses before taking a sip. The jacuzzi is huge. Being built into the deck right outside our bedroom, I thought it would be a bit smaller, but no, it's larger than most people's swimming pools. I drift over to the edge of the jacuzzi where a stunning view is waiting for me. The great thing about this deck is that it has the option to be indoors, but the windows can be retracted, welcoming the musky spruce smell inside.
"The sun will be setting soon, I wonder how the inner gang's doing on their mission," I comment as I rest with my elbows on the sleek wooden deck. I take another sip of my wine, hoping I could stop thinking of all the bad possible outcomes.
"They'll probably only arrive on location tomorrow. It's quite a distance away from here," Xavier says.
"So nobody is dead yet," I breathe and let my shoulders relax.
I hear Xavier drift over to me and feel his arms snake around my waist. His head goes to rest on the curve of my neck and shoulder. "Nobody's dying, Marigold. They're all very capable people," my husband reassures me - his words a tingling whisper on my collarbone. I melt in his embrace and lean with my head back.
Xavier seems to follow the flow of things, because with my throat exposed he leisurely starts tracing kisses all over my neck and jaw, teasing my lips to the point where I impatiently turn around and kiss him. I let my hands travel over his chest, over his scars, and to his face where I hold him in place and deepen our kiss.
When I pull away, I'm a little out of breath, drunk on more than wine.
