The Clerk clears his throat, wipes away more tears and finishes the ceremony. On time.
“Can I kiss my wife now,” Ben asks.
“You better,” I tease.
When we kiss as husband and wife, it feels like the first time. There are butterflies in my stomach waiting for the moment when our lips will finally connect. My nerves settle when Ben leans forward slightly, brushes his hand across my cheeks and places a soft kiss on my lips. I take a step forward and kiss him back, gripping the lapels of his jacket in my hands. I kiss him hard and deep, sealing my promises to him forever.
“Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime, Mrs. Waterstone?”
The sound of my new name makes me positively giddy. My heart thumps wildly in my chest. I’m Mrs. Waterstone! “Absolutely Mr. Waterstone but only if it will last forever.”
Milly
The Mediterranean Sea is an ideal place for a honeymoon. But if you’re my husband, cruising the Mediterranean Sea aboard a super yacht is the perfect honeymoon. Especially if your plans were delayed.
As planned, after our wedding, I applied for my new visa and Ben paid the obscene fee to have my application expedited. We waited until I was cleared to travel before returning to London because he still had business to finish.
The deal with Jagger Wilkes was straightforward and settled quickly. It guaranteed Jagger’s loyalty and gave Ben the reassurance he needed to continue his path to success as a restauranteur.
Dealing with Alistair took a bit longer. Until Ben realized the only way to stop his brother was to buy George’s property himself.
“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted George to keep his home.” I needed clarification because Ben’s plan was confusing.
“I do, and he can live there for as long as he wants. Or he can retire and move to Spain if he wants. Either way, it blocks Alistair from owning George’s land and prevents him from turning Waterstone Hall into a full-blown mini break resort!”
Surprisingly, George was amenable to Ben’s offer and accepted it. Also, not surprisingly, Ben’s family was livid when they discovered what he’d done. Alistair came to our flat to confront Ben and there was a lot of shouting. I tried to keep track of how many times Ben said “fuck” but it became too confusing after a while.
“You know the solution to our problem, Alistair. You’re just too big of a fucking wanker to do anything,” Ben goaded his brother. “Buy me out.”
“You know I don’t have the fucking money to do that.”
“Then get the fuck out of my flat and don’t fucking talk to me ever again unless it’s through my lawyer.”
After the big blow out with Alistair, Ben’s mother called. Their conversation was more polite but ended much the same way.
“Mum, there’s only one solution and unfortunately, Alistair doesn’t have the money to buy my half of the estate. So, until that happens, kindly leave me and Milly the fuck alone.” There was a slight pause before Ben said, “Please give dad my love. Bye.”
When the phone call ended, I flopped across the sofa and sighed dramatically. “Can we please just go on our honeymoon already? I have a suitcase full of nothing packed!”
Honestly, it didn’t even feel like we were even married. Once we returned to London, we lived separate lives for a few weeks while Ben handled business. The only indication we were newlyweds was the sex. So much dirty, delicious sex. It was like we were both insatiable teenagers. But I wanted my husband all to myself for a while; I hated sharing him with lawyers and investor meetings.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Ben informed me matter-of-factly.
* * *
This super yachtBen chartered is massive. It’s shiny and sleek but since we came aboard, I haven’t seen much of it. My only priorities including sleeping, eating the fresh, delicious Italian food, and sunbathing on the upper deck.
“That bikini is obscene,” Ben drools. “I love it.”
I adjust the tiny emerald green cups of the top a bit and recline further in my lounger. “Just following your orders, Mr. Waterstone.”
Ben leans down and kisses me thoroughly. His finger trails down my chest, in between my breasts, and catches on the fabric of my bikini. He tugs it down until the strings around my neck have no choice but to loosen. Ben pulls the scrap of fabric away from my body and tosses it to the ground.
“That’s much better,” he says with a devilish smile. My hands fly up to cover myself but he stops me. “We’re in the middle of the Mediterranean and the crew have been ordered to disappear. No one will see you.”
This is one of the reasons I love Ben. He pushes my boundaries but ensures my safety.
He arranges himself on the lounger next to mine. His well-muscled body and tattoos are on full display. My mouth waters at the sinful things his navy-blue swimsuit is doing for his lower half.
