She'd dressed with utmost care for tonight. She looked edible. Opulently beautiful. Completely flawless and abundantly ravishing. Sin draped in sheer lavender Givenchy.
This was her introduction to the world and she was about to knock 'em dead, and it was about goddamned time.
She was made for this.
She'd left her hair down, and I couldn't keep my hands off it for long. Nor my lips from her skin. I saved her makeup by focusing on her shoulders, her collar, her cleavage. There was way too much of her perfect flesh exposed, and I wasn't sure how I was going to make it through the evening without falling prey to her lavish charms.
"Stop it," she said, her tone telling me that she wanted the opposite. "You're such a tease. We have to leave in like five minutes."
"I can work with that," I told her sincerely.
She threw her head back and laughed.
It was flooring. Spectacular. I'd been through hell and back more than once just on the faith that I'd see it again someday. It was worth every second of suffering to be on this side of it, to see her smile every day, to hear that laugh.
I'd do it again if I had to. Every bit of it. For this.
"Come here," I told her gruffly.
She came, her eyes suspicious on me, but I just held her for a few drugging moments, lips at her hair.
Heart in her hands.
Soul joined with hers. In perpetuity.
We were in the back of a limo that the studio had sent, headed to the premiere when I said, "I have a surprise for you."
She shot me a saucy grin. "Is it oral?"
That surprised a belly laugh out of me. "Is oral on the table?"
"Only if you're doing it. You don't have any makeup to worry about."
I started shifting lower in my seat, all too ready to accommodate her, but she stopped me with a hand and giggle.
"I was kidding! You know I'm too nervous right now."
"I'm pretty sure an orgasm will help with that."
"You're incorrigible."
"Yes," I said, tone succinct. "Also, I'm very good with my tongue."
When I handed her out of the limo, she was only slightly mussed and much more relaxed.
She took to the red carpet like a natural. A queen taking her throne. A goddess.
Gram would have been so proud and not the least bit surprised. Just like me.
I was just as Scarlett had said—arm candy. An accessory for the evening. I was fine with that. It was refreshing and stress-free in comparison to my usual social functions. I didn't have to conduct any business, didn't have to do much aside from stand close to the love of my life and smile for the camera.
She really, sincerely disliked her co-star, and she made sure I stood next to him in several photos to illustrate how much taller I was.
I was game. Any enemy of Scarlett's was on my shit list, as ever.
"We heard you're engaged? When are you tying the knot?" was asked often, or some version of it.
"As soon as I can drag her to a courthouse," I'd say, or, "How late is Vegas open?"
These answers were always met with chuckles, but the truth was, I wasn't really joking.
"Your surprise is here," I murmured into her ear when I spotted Frankie Abelli approaching.
Scarlett's eyes twinkled mischievously up at mine. "I thought the killer limo oral was my surprise."
"As tempting and accurate as that is—my oral is killer," Frankie said directly behind her. "I'm taken by this spicy little Brazilian babe on my arm."
Scarlett turned, recognition lit her face, and she squealed in delight.
Totally worth it.
The women, all three of them, hit it off. How could they not, after that introduction?
I'm biased, of course, but the movie was brilliant. Scarlett stole every scene.
There were a few parts that I had a hard time watching. A bit more skin than I'd have liked to share with the world, a lot more touching than I wanted to see, but I bore it in silence and with good grace. It was my issue, not hers. This was her art, her craft, and I'd be damned before I'd be the ass that told her how to express it.
She'd always been one that took self-criticism to new extremes, but even she admitted that she was happy with her performance and with the movie as a whole.
When the lights came on, she was watching my face, a grin on hers.
There was a twist to her smile always, but just then, she was happy.
As was I.
"Scarlett Theroux," I told her with quiet reverence. "I will love you to the end of my days. There aren't a lot of guarantees in life, but that is one of them."
"I know, lover. I don't doubt it for a second. You've earned that."
*****
"They say marriages are made in heaven. But so is thunder and lightning."
~Clint Eastwood
SCARLETT
For months I'd waffled between wanting a huge wedding and saying to hell with it and just eloping.
But Dante had promised Mercy that she could be a flower girl, and I really, really liked dressing up, so we settled for small but lavish.
And most importantly of all. Quick.
We took a small entourage to an extravagant Durant property in southern Italy and threw one hell of a party.
I wore a champagne lace Givenchy number that made every other dress in the room have a small, intense orgasm as I passed by.