Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (24 page)

She knew that he felt how she was trembling by the look that crossed his face. “I'm good,” she whispered. “Let's get married.” He squeezed her hand hard and led her towards where everyone stood waiting.

“Tonight, we join here to witness the joining of these two people in holy matrimony. Monroe and Drea stand before us to show the depth of their love, prepared to love and honor one another for the rest of their lives.” Father Pete looked around the room. “I've been told that the couple would like to speak their own vows. Monroe, you said that you'd like to start things off.”

Drea wished someone would have told her that. She glared at Monroe, and he smiled in return.

Thanks, Father Pete. Drea, I know that I'm just springing this on you, but there's so much that I want to say.”

“I think that I can think of a thing or two to say myself,” she replied. “But you first,” she added, her voice shaking as much as her hands were. Even with him holding them, Drea couldn't keep them still.

“Relax, hon. Breathe.” He released one of her hands so that he could cup her face. “I've got you. For the rest of our lives, I've got you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you to make sure that you're loved, happy and safe. Before we started, I thought that I knew what love was, but I was dead wrong. I love you in a way that I didn't know I was capable of. I can't imagine my life without you in it.”

“You don't have to imagine it, because I'm not going anywhere,” Drea said, her voice cracking because she couldn't hold back the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “I didn't want to love you, Monroe. I didn't want to love anyone. I thought that I was just fine the way I was, alone, but I wasn't fine. Mostly, I felt like I was under water and fading fast. But you, you make me feel like my head is always above water, no matter how deep it might be. I love you. I love you so much.” She stopped there because it was no longer possible to speak through the tears. Embarrassment surfaced as she realized everyone was watching her lose it.

“Ask the questions, Father Pete. I'm tired of waiting to kiss the bride,” Monroe said and drew a laugh from the crowd.

“Do you have the rings?” the priest asked.

Drea hadn't thought about a ring for Monroe. She felt incredibly stupid and small. Her mouth opened to say that she didn't have one; she paused as she felt a touch on her arm. When she turned, Amelia was standing here with her hand out. A thick gold band with black accents lay on her palm. “It's one of Danny's, but he'd be the first one to offer it,” she said softly with a smile.

“Thank you,” Drea replied through fresh tears. She took the ring carefully, closed her fist around it so she wouldn't drop it.

“Looks like we do, Father.” Monroe's voice held as much emotion as Drea's had. As she looked around the room, she realized they weren't the only ones touched by the gesture.

“Do you, James Monroe, take this woman, Drea Vargas, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do,” Monroe answered. He took a ring, a plain gold band, from the inside pocket of his cut. Drea held out her hand, giggled as he had a little trouble getting the ring on.

“And do you, Drea Vargas, take this man, James Monroe, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Father Pete questioned.

“I do,” Drea replied. She opened her hand and slid the thick gold band onto his finger. He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together.

“By the power vested in me by almighty God and the state of Michigan, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Drea didn't wait for Monroe to make the move on her. To the delight of the crowd, she grabbed him and pulled his head down to hers. Someone let out a shrill whistle as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Since they had an audience, her intention had been to keep it short and sweet.

Monroe had other ideas. He wrapped her in his arms and let his tongue plunge into her mouth. Drea responded eagerly, the people around them forgotten as his hands moved down to cup her ass. He lifted her and she went with her instincts and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“We've got kids here,” Amelia called out.

“Control yourselves,” Train added. “We're not done here. Two minutes and we'll be all set up.”

All set up for the branding. Drea felt her nerves return at full force. Pain wasn't her favorite thing. Burns were a particular agony all of their own. She lowered her legs  from around Monroe's waist but stayed close to him.

“We don't have to do it now,” he whispered so that only she could hear.

“I want to do it now,” she whispered back. “I'm ready.” She had a good idea of what to expect. The old ladies had given her a rundown of what to expect as far as the process and the pain after. Jillian would take over immediately once it was done to clean and dress the wound.

“I want you to take something for the pain now,” he told her. “It'll kick in quicker. I don't want to see you in pain.” Monroe reached into his pocket, took out a pill bottle and opened it. He shook out a small, round, blue pill.

Drea reached out and took it; she swallowed it dry. Anything to push the pain away would be her friend; she knew that it would also work wonders on her nerves. She steeled herself for what was going to come and walked over to sit down on the chair next to the set up table. “Are you going to tell me where you're putting it?”

“The back of your neck. I hate to say it, but you're going to need to put your hair up so it doesn't get singed.” Monroe reached out and took a thick hair tie from the table.

While Drea pulled her hair up, he picked up the brand he was going to use, showed it to her. It had once been a belt buckle, she'd seen him wear it a time or two. The M was simply designed in block letters. When Monroe held it to the torch until it grew red, Drea shut her eyes and waited.

“You ready, hon?”

“Ready,” Drea confirmed. She screamed as the molten hot metal pressed against her skin. Drea's stomach turned. She would have jumped up, but suddenly Jillian was in front of her, holding her in place. She bit down on her tongue, bore down against the pain, and then she felt the relief of the metal being moved off of her skin. The relief was short lived; the pain returned with a vengeance as the air hit the wound.

Monroe crouched down in front of her, his hands on her thighs. “You good, hon?”

“Hurts,” she said through clenched teeth.

“It'll be better when Jillian is done with you,” he said soothingly. “Any regrets?”

Drea met his eyes, anger pushing back the pain. “I can't believe that you really asked me that. No, I've got no regrets. Do you?”

“Only that we didn't do this sooner,” he replied.

“Alright, you're all bandaged and good to go,” Jillian said. “Here, drink this, but then chill on the drinking until the meds kick in.”

Drea took the single shot bottle and downed it. Her throat burned like she'd swallowed fire straight out of hell. “That was vile.”

“It does the job, though,” Jillian said with a laugh as Ace approached and made a grab for her.

“Let's get you something to wash that down with,” Monroe suggested. “How are you feeling?”

“It's sort of throbbing. Really sucks, actually, but I'm good.” She held out her hand so he could help her up. “If anyone touches my neck, I'm probably going to punch them.”

“Don't worry, I'll punch 'em for you,” he promised.

No one came anywhere near her neck, although after the painkiller kicked in, Drea wasn't sure that she'd have even felt it if someone did. She felt warm all over, a little fuzzy-headed, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a good time. There was music, food and of course the wedding cake Caroline had made. Everything was perfect, and it wasn't lost on Drea that if she'd gotten her way, they wouldn't have had any of this. As ridiculous and clichéd as it might sound, she finally felt like she was fully a part of the Nightshade family now.

“You about ready to go upstairs?” Monroe said, his mouth so close to her ear that she could feel his breath. “I've been thinking about getting this dress off of you all night.”

“What are we waiting for?” Drea turned so that she was facing him, wrapped her arms around his neck. “You should have said something earlier, we could have been up there already.”

“Christ, I love you.”

“I love you more.” She lowered her arms so she could grab his hands and pull him towards the stairs.

“Easy, hon.” Monroe grabbed her before she could stumble up the first few stairs. “You good?”

“You keep asking me that. Has my answer changed at all tonight?” Drea paid more attention to the stairs and managed to get up the rest without landing on her face.

“You're swaying a little more than you were earlier,” he pointed out. “Just checking on my old lady.”

“I love the way it sounds when you say that. I wasn't sure that I would.” Drea reached the door to the room first, opened it and kicked off her heels as she stepped inside. “Oh, that feels so much better, orgasmic even. I'm not even thinking about what has happened on this carpet before my bare feet were on it.”

“The carpets get shampooed on a regular basis and cleaned every day unless someone is in here. Sort of like a hotel.”

“Do you know how nasty hotel rooms actually are?”

“Why are we talking about nasty hotel rooms? I can think of better things for us to talk about. For example, what are you wearing under that dress?”

“It's nothing to write home about. It's just what I put on this morning to go to work. The ones I was going to wear tomorrow are still at home. You'd have liked the set, it's really pretty.”

“You're really pretty,” he pointed out. “You're also pretty drunk, aren't you?”

“Little bit,” Drea agreed amicably. She was drunk and in a fantastic mood. “You worry too much about me being too drunk. I'm not. When I start puking on your shoes, that's when I'm too drunk.”

“If you say so,” he said with a grin. “I want you to put that set on as soon as we get home. And right now, we need to get this dress off of you.” Drea took that as a hint, reached for strap to pull it down, but he stopped her. “No, let me.”

Drea dropped her hands as he reached up to slide the straps off of her shoulders, his fingertips traced a trail down her arms. “There's a zipper in the back,” she said helpfully. A tremor rolled through her body as he reached around her back to pull the zipper down. His hands returned to her arms, eased the straps the rest of the way down and let the floral material fall to the floor.

“So beautiful and all mine.” Monroe slid his hands onto her hips. “And for the record, I really like this set.” She'd chosen the green set that morning because it was comfortable and because it was his favorite color. “We need to get you out of it, though.” He hooked his fingers into the sides of her thong and dragged the material down.

Drea couldn't take her eyes off of him as he sank down to his knees and brought the material to the floor. She lifted her feet out of it and reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Monroe looked up at her as soon as she'd popped the clasp. The only way to describe the look on his face as he watched her set the girls free was hungry. He wanted her and she wanted him. He hadn't laid a finger on her, and was still fully dressed, but she could feel a wet warmth spreading between her legs.

“You've got too many clothes on,” she complained. “Let me fix that.”

Monroe stood back up straight. Drea moved to stand behind him and slid the leather from his shoulders. She handled it with the same care that he always took and hung it from the hook on the wall there for that purpose. By the time that she turned around, he was right in front of her.

The white button-down he wore had to be a throwback to his days as a detective. It was good quality, so Drea made herself unbutton the buttons instead of yanking the sides apart. The further she got down the shirt, the more impatient she became. Finally, the buttons were undone, and she went directly for his belt. Monroe grunted his approval as she undid his belt and popped open his jeans. Underneath, she found bare skin and his straining cock.

Her hand wrapped around him. He was fully hard, his length heavy in her hand. He made a growl-like sound when she began to stroke him. When she dropped to her knees, she saw his fists clench. He swallowed hard and exhaled a curse as she closed her mouth around him. Drea knew what he liked, so she went for it, taking him down deep and pulling back.

“Oh, fuck,” he hissed in a sharp breath. “Look at me,” he demanded. Drea met his eyes. “Good girl.” He reached out to cup the back of her head gently. His hips began to move against her, soft strokes at first, but then they got harder, and he went deeper. Drea cried out, the sound muffled, as he reached between them and took hold of one already stiff nipple. He rolled the tender flesh between his fingers, pinched down and pulled her hair at the same time. Her legs trembled, and the ache between her legs became a demanding throb.

Drea slid her mouth off of him and let her head fall back as he covered her breasts with both hands. “Monroe!”

“Get up here and give me your mouth.”

Drea rose to her feet, stretched to meet his mouth. The kiss was rougher than she expected, his teeth nipping against her bottom lip. She didn't know what had gotten into him, but it didn't really matter as long as he got into her.

“Fuck me,” she whispered before returning the favor and biting down on his bottom lip.