Defenseless (36 page)

My mother smiles and Dominic grips her hand. Then it dawns on me. Sure enough, when I turn my head, Mark is kneeling at my side.

“Charisma Marcia Erickson, before you say anything, let me finish.” He pauses as I bite my lip. “I loved you the day I first laid eyes on you. I saw you and knew. Somehow, someway, I would make you love me. And since I’m pretty fantastic, you did.” I laugh as he winks. “But I never knew how much I would love you. I never knew that you would become the only person in the world who matters. We’re the same in so many ways. Jobs were all we had, our careers were what counted, but you . . . you beautiful, insane, frustrating woman have shown me it doesn’t mean anything without you.” Mark pulls a black box from his pocket and places it on my knee. “So, I’m asking you, for real this time, to open the box. If you do, then you don’t have to say anything. If you open it, you’re opening your heart to me. You’re going to marry me, and I’m going to make it my mission to make you happy. If you take it, I’ll honor you, love you, and support you until my last breath.”

Mark gazes at me with so much love and trust it makes my heart swell. His finger lifts, and he swipes the tear I didn’t know had formed. I do as he asks. I don’t say a word.

I take the black box.

And for the first time, I don’t want to wait.

I want my man.

I lift the lid as two sighs come from the other side of the table.

Mark doesn’t make a sound. He just winks as if he had no fears.

Such an arrogant ass
.

My
arrogant ass.

Our lips touch, and I hear my mother’s shoes against the floor. “Charlie!” she exclaims. “I’m so happy someone is finally going to make an honest woman out of you.”

“Oh, boy.” Dominic laughs.

What the hell is with him?

“Thanks, Mom . . . I think.”

“Mark, come here.” She embraces him. “Thank you for having the patience of a saint.”

She is out of her freaking mind. Does she not realize the crap I deal with? “I wouldn’t go that far. He’s not exactly a walk in the park.”

“Oh, hush. I lived with you for twenty years. You’re no angel either.” She heads back to her seat and Dominic lifts his chin with a smirk. “What the heck are you two giving each other looks for?” she snaps.

Here goes nothing.

“Mom . . .” I release a heavy breath. “There’s more.”

Her eyes narrow and I know I’m in for it. She’s going to blow her top. On one hand, I’ve always taken joy in giving her a headache, but on the other, this might put her over the edge. “Out with it, Charisma.”

“We’re having a baby.”

She doesn’t say anything. Instead, her gaze shifts from me to Mark then back at me again. Her face is stoic, but I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

“That would be how we’re having the baby.”

“And you’re sure he’s the father?”

My jaw drops as Dominic snorts. “Mom!”

“Well, I don’t know what you do on these trips.” She shakes her head.

“I’m not a whore.” Mark grips my hand beneath the table. His thumb grazes my skin as I try to keep calm.

She stands and walks over as I turn my head to look over my shoulder. “Charisma,” her hand presses against my cheek. “I never thought you were. You’re going to be an exceptional mother.”

Moisture pools in my eyes as she pays me the nicest compliment ever. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Now . . .” her tone shifts as her hand drops. “You’re to be married within the month. I won’t have my unwed daughter traipsing around with her love child. I mean, what would people think?” She talks to herself as I watch her mind spin behind her blue eyes. “We can’t have that kind of scandal in this family, so you’re to be married soon. It’ll be grand so get your protests out now. You will not deprive me, and we need to have this happen quickly so we can explain you just delivered early. The less time we waste the better”

Mark laughs, Dominic sits there with a shit-eating grin, and I groan. She apparently has forgotten who I am.

One Month Later

“H
ello, Mrs. Dixon,” Mark says as he strips out of his suit.

“No one can know we did this,” I say with a grin. My mother was driving me crazy with this wedding. Mark didn’t want to hear me bitching anymore, so he got the jet from Jackson and we flew to Turks and Caicos. Just us. We got married on the beach with no fanfare, exactly the way we wanted it. A couple who was walking along the beach stood up for us.

My mother will murder us, but since I’m pregnant, she may hold off. I’m sure people will be disappointed, but I don’t care. This wasn’t about them. This wedding was about us.

“It’s our secret.” He smirks and unbuttons his shirt.

I step closer in my tea-length red dress. I grabbed the first thing I saw, and threw it in the bag. I couldn’t have cared less what I was wearing as long as it happened the way we actually wanted.

Mark’s eyes watch me as I slide the zipper down the side. The dress falls at my feet. I was at least conscious enough to grab a matching bra and sexy underwear. Since I still have my body for now, I decided to go a little skimpy.

“Well,” Mark says as his eyes travel up and down. “I think my wife needs some attention.”

“She does,” I agree as I walk closer in my red heels. “She really needs to see that her husband still has it. That his old age hasn’t affected a certain piece of anatomy I love so much.”

I know how much he loves a challenge, and we’ve been having a lot of fun with my new sex drive. Not that we were tame before, but I can’t get enough since I’ve been pregnant.

His arms slip around my back and pull me flush against him. “I’m about to blow your mind, wife.”

“Prove it, husband.”

I need him. I burn for him. I know he’s about to make good on his promises. His lips hover above mine, and my breathing goes shallow. He toys with me, makes me earn his kiss, and I love it. I need the challenge, to be pushed for more, and Mark is more than happy to give it to me.

After a few seconds of breathing each other in, his lips collide with mine. I can’t rationalize the passion between us, but then again, I don’t want to. I want it to always remain this way. I want the kind of love my parents had. One where after years of marriage, they still wanted each other.

His tongue delves into my mouth as he kisses me without apology. It’s sexy, raw, primal—and he’s in control. Our tongues tangle even as his hands roam my skin. My fingers dive into his hair to hold him where I want him.

Mark breaks the kiss. His eyes devour me as he pushes me back against the bed. “Let me see you.”

I recline back, lift one leg, and call him over with my index finger. “Touch what’s yours.”

His eyes flame and my body ignites. “That’s right, baby. Say it again.”

“Touch me.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t play games, Charisma.” My head falls back as he climbs onto the bed, keeping his weight off me. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

I look up with a grin. “You. I belong to you. And you, my husband, are all mine.”

“Fuck, yeah, I am.” He pulls me against him and unhooks my bra. He slips it down.

His tongue circles before he pulls my nipple into his mouth. My eyes water from the pleasure he extracts from my sensitive breasts. Everything is heightened since the baby. I feel it ten times more intensely. My orgasms are like a drug, and I can’t get enough of them.

Mark slithers down my body, trailing his tongue on his way. I squirm beneath him as he makes his descent to my core. “You ready for number one? What do I get if I get it in under a minute?”

“Let’s not forget you still have to give me a Charlie Day.” I remind him of his obligation.

“I say you give me at least two blow jobs whenever I want them.”

“We’re not negotiating now, Mark!” I groan as his fingers lightly trace my opening. I squirm. I need his touch, his mouth, his cock. “I need you.”

“If I blow your world in a minute, you can blow mine.”

“Fine!” I yell out in frustration.

I hate him sometimes.

As soon as my head hits the bed, his mouth goes to work. He licks, sucks, and bites softly against my clit. Mark drags me down but lifts me up. I climb but try to hold off. I focus on anything to not let him win, but I’m so sensitive. I’m so horny, and I’m so in love with this man. My breathing becomes labored as I try to count past sixty. I don’t want to lose, but really . . . I’m far from losing here.

I count to fifty-eight and any grip on my control slips away. I fall into the black hole as colors flood my vision.

“God, you’re good,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

I flip him over and smile at the memory that hits me. Not too long ago, we did this on a plane. It was that moment when my life changed. I gave up a part of myself to him and never got it back. He and I shared something that night. We gave each other something we had never shared with anyone else. It bonded us. I press my hand against his cheek and my two-carat princess-cut diamond shines between us.

My lips press against him as I try to convey my love to him. I arch up and sink down on top of him. He moans in my mouth and I rock back and forth.

There’s no hurry. I want to feel him. I want him to feel me.

“I love you, Mark.”

“I love you more,” he says against my lips.

We move in unison, slowly, but then we pick up the pace. Neither of us take things slow. He flips me onto my back and pushes my legs up. He’s so deep inside of me. In so many ways. Our bodies become one as he slides in and out. I close my eyes and hold onto his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he demands.

I lift my lids. Our gazes stay locked as I see everything through his eyes. It’s so intense and beautiful that it pushes my second orgasm to the brink. Mark grunts as I squeeze him.

He follows me over after I come back down. We lie here, naked, with limbs tangled together. The breeze off the ocean floats through the room. The salt air comforts me. It reminds me of him. Fresh air and the sea. “I’ll always think of you and the water.”

“Because you’re warming up to surfing?” he asks then rolls over to face me.

I get on my side to see his eyes. “Did you eradicate the sharks?”

“No, but for you I might try.”

“Aww.” I touch his cheek. “You’re so cute . . . sometimes.”

Then, in true Mark fashion, he reminds me how not cute he is.

“I’m going to miss these.” He grabs my boob.

I smack his hand away. “Well, they’re not going anywhere.”

His green eyes darken. “And neither are you.”

“No,” I say with a smile. “I’m not. You knocked me up and married me. I guess we’re stuck.”

Mark pulls me on top of him and kisses me. “I guess so.”

I roll off him, sit up, and look around. “I think it’s how it was meant to be. We’re exactly where we should be. You, me, here on this beautiful island. Just us.”

His hand rests on my stomach. “All of us. Forever.”

“Well . . .” I pause and then shake my head. “Nah, Forever and always.”

Five Years Later

“W
here are the keys?” I yell as Makenna runs around in circles in her walker. She’s the spitting image of her father—blonde hair, green eyes, and his attitude. In other words, she’s a giant pain, but awfully cute.

“Where you left them!” Mark calls out as he tries to get our oldest corralled. Cullen is a handful. He literally has the worst traits of both of us. Stubborn is an understatement. He refuses to even look at the potty, won’t eat anything that’s green or brown, and sleep isn’t in his vocabulary. Mark and I cherish each second with him, mainly because we’re on nanny number six.

Yeah, six. He’s the devil. No, he’s his father. He’s forced me to become a work-at-home mom because we can no longer get anyone to respond to our ads. I swear kindergarten can’t come soon enough.

My pregnancy was easy, but his birth was far from it. I went through twenty-seven hours of labor, only to be rushed in for a C-section. I ended up hemorrhaging, and Cullen spent eight days in the NICU for difficulty breathing.

“Cullen!” Mark yells, and I laugh. He hates his name, but when Mark was gone for the night getting some sleep, I filled out the birth certificate, and Mark signed it in his sleep deprived haze. Thus, Cullen was named. “Charlie! You can’t leave me with this kid!”