"Either way, I'm sorry."

"So what about our honeymoon?"

Oops.

"I don't know. I didn't think of that—"

"You forgot we were supposed to go on a honeymoon?"

"Not really forgot, but I kinda didn't want to think about it too much. You only just let me fuck you like two seconds ago."

She stares at me with her mouth open. "I let you fuck me?"

Well, now she's upset and mad.

"I didn't mean it like that. That's just how I talk, and you know it. Don't pick at things just to make this worse."

"I'm not. But we're supposed to go on a honeymoon."

"I know that, but this is my job, Aze. I'm not going to fucking Disney World to hang out with Mickey."

"Can't you, like, reschedule or something?" she asks, bending over to pull more clothes out of the dryer, and my cock immediately wakes up as I stare at her perfect ass, imagining her bent over naked for me.

"No. Are you nuts? There's like thousands upon thousands of dollars invested. Tons of people have bought tickets. The shows are sold out. We can't just bail out of a twenty-day tour across the East Coast, babe."

"Well, I don't know how this stuff works."

"I know that. And you're off the hook—the guys decided no girlfriends or wives can come on the tour with us."

She stops folding and turns to me. "So I won't see you for twenty days?"

"Not unless you drive or fly to where I am for a day or two to be with me." Please do that, my heart and cock beg.

She swallows hard, her jaw twitching, clearly not on board with that idea at all.

I shake my head with disappointment. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't."

She takes her anger out on the sweater she's holding and folds it into a lopsided mess. "Maybe your old sexy model friend will be there to keep you company since your wife is too scared to trail around after you."

"Yeah, maybe she will." I take a few steps toward her and stand behind her, putting my arms on either side of her and resting my hands on the top of the dryer, trapping her. I lean my head down and press my lips against her ear. "Maybe you forgot that I only want you."

"You let her touch you right in front of me. I'm scared to think what you'll let her do if I'm not there." Her sarcastic tone is laced with jealousy and fear.

I press my rock-hard cock against her ass. "Not a fucking thing. Obviously, I haven't done a good enough job of showing you that every inch of me belongs to you now." I slide my hand down the front of her yoga pants, my fingers grazing over her lips, welcomed by a flood of wetness. "I think I'm gonna have to keep reminding you until you get it through your stubborn little head." I kiss her neck while pushing her pants and panties down and then quickly unbutton my jeans and pull my throbbing cock out. "Bend over and spread your legs for me so I can show you everything that's yours. Only yours."

"Bend over and spread…very romantic," she taunts, but she does it quickly, which only tells me she wants it as badly as I do.

I push my finger in and out of her while I suck on her neck. "I never claimed to be fuckin' Romeo, baby." I slide my cock into her slow at first, then thrust my full length into her, making her whimper and cry out as I stretch her to take me. Holding on to her hips, I rock into her for a few minutes before I reach around and rub her clit with my hand.

"You're driving me crazy," she pants, white-knuckling the edge of the dryer.

"Good. Now you know what it feels like."

"You can't tickle me or fuck me every time we have a fight."

Pulling out to the tip, I ram into her deep, making her go up on her toes. "I can, and I will." My gaze drifts down between us to watch my cock plunge in and out of her. "You feel so fucking good, baby. You're out of your mind if you think I'll ever touch another woman."

"You better not, or I'll cut it off."

Only she could make me crack up laughing during sex. I lean over her and rest my head against the back of hers, grinning like an idiot. "Shut up and come, you little psycho."

I stop moving and she takes over, pumping her pussy up and down on me, driving me wild with lust for her. I fucking love how much she wants me, even though she fought it so damn hard for so long. It was worth the torturous wait to now see her like this, pushing her body back and forth onto me, hearing her gasps for breath, and feeling her go all tight and wet around me.

"Tally…" Hearing her moan and sigh my name sets me off into climax with her, and we collapse against the clothes dryer together, sticky with sweat and panting for breath.

She slowly pulls away and turns around, her eyes glazed, and puts her arms around my neck, gently pulling me down to kiss her.

"You're turning me into a nympho," she giggles.

Grinning, I shake my hair out of my face and zip up my jeans. "I have zero complaints."

Her eyes blink up at me, her hair rumpled, cheeks flushed, a lopsided smile on her lips. "I didn't know I liked sex so much." She pulls up her pants and leans against the dryer.

"Hey, that better be only with me, Mrs. Valentine. Don't make me worry about your little nymph ass while I'm on tour."

She playfully slaps my arms. "Of course, only you." The smile slowly fades from her face, and she rubs her hand up and down my arm. "I really wish you didn't have to go."

"Trust me, I'm not looking forward to it either. The timing is pretty bad."

"Will I be able to talk to you?" Her voice wavers like she's about to burst into tears at any second.

I pull her into my arms. "Baby, of course. I'm not going to prison. We can text, and I'll call you.”

She clings to me. "I'm afraid you're going to forget about me."

I stroke her hair and hold her closer to me. "I'm not going to forget you. I'm kinda scared you're gonna like it better here without me, though."

Her arms tighten around me. "No way. I'm going to miss you like crazy."

I lift her chin and kiss her lips. "I don't want to fight any fucking more. Last night and this morning were amazing. And just now, even though it was way too quick. I want us to be happy." I kiss her again, a little longer. "I want to make the most of the two weeks we have before I have to leave. No more wasting time."

"I want that too."

I move my hands down to squeeze her ass. I love that she wears yoga pants a lot when she's hanging around the house because they're soft, show off her hot little ass, and I can pull them off fast. I kind of want to pull them off again right now.

"And I meant what I said. I don't want any other chicks."

"You're sure?"

I look her right in her pretty pastel eyes. "No, I'm positive. You're my wife. I know I messed up with the drinking and getting high, but I'll never cheat on you. I don't want you sitting here alone thinking things like that while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'll try not to."

"Don't try. Do. Now, aren't we supposed to be designing some fuckin' epic clothes? We better get on that like now so we have some ready for the tour."

Chapter 25

Asia

I wake up sore, more tired than I was when I fell asleep, with an ache in the pit of my stomach and my chest. Talon's leaving for his tour today, and while I know it's selfish of me, I don't want him to go. It's not that I don't understand this is his career, or that I don't know what an amazing guitarist he is and how much work he's put in to the songs, or that I'm not incredibly proud of him. I just don't want to be away from him for so long, especially when things are finally going so well between us. I can't even think about not being able to hug him, kiss him, see his sexy smile, and fall asleep wrapped up in him for twenty days.

Twenty days.

Four hundred and eighty hours. Give or take.

His side of the bed is vacant, but a quick scan of our bedroom reveals him standing out on the balcony off the bedroom, wearing just shorts. I stare at him for a few seconds, thinking about how lucky I am to have this gorgeous, sensual, sweet, and funny man in my life. Then I grab my cell phone from my nightstand and take a picture of him, so later I can gawk at it and see his muscular, tatted-up back, the way his hair flows down his shoulders, and the beautiful fall mountain scenery he's staring off into. Although he looks peaceful standing there, I know inside he's not.

Last night when we had sex, there was an underlying desperation in the way he touched me and thrust into me, like he was scared to not be close enough, not be deep enough, not be there enough. While we usually have long lovemaking sessions at night, with some quickies during the day, last night we made love practically all night long. We'd doze off for a few minutes, and then he'd be kissing me again, rousing me awake to embark on more drowsy sex. I'm certainly not complaining, but I'm slowly learning to understand and accept that making love is how Talon communicates his feelings to me. At first, it scared me because I thought it was just fucking for him—a way to get off, try new positions, and just have fun. I thought he considered a wife his own personal, breathing sex toy. But then I started to see deeper into him, and I could feel his emotions coming through in the way he touched me, how he kissed me, in the passion I saw in his eyes, and the words he admitted when he was buried deep inside me. Having sex definitely strengthened our connection and cemented a deep bond between us. Dr. H was right; having physical intimacy was a big missing piece in the puzzle of our marriage.

Those three little words have never been said—by either of us—but I no longer wait for them, or expect them. I'm pretty sure I feel them, though. And that's good enough. Maybe better than good enough. While I want to say those words to him, I continue to bite my tongue because I don't want him to feel like he has to say them back. Hearing them that way would be way worse than not hearing them at all.