Because while Cozumel is beautiful, Maria and I end up spending most of the time in bed.
No matter how many times I have had Maria, and in how many ways, it doesn't sate my thirst for her. Instead, it just makes it worse, building the fire higher within me, until I can only find relief when I have her pressed against me or when I'm balls deep inside of her.
It's like we're in some sort of trance in Cozumel, eating, drinking, walking the beach, and fucking. To anyone looking at us, we appear like any other just-married couple. How is it we haven't even known each other a week, and already Maria has made a home beneath my skin?
It isn't just her body, either. Maria was brave enough to face this marriage with her head held high, and she's met me beat for beat ever since. She's fierce when she needs to be, and soft when she feelssecure. She's funny and quick-witted, and I find that even when we aren't all over each other, I seek her out just to be close.
Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm falling in love with her. But that's not possible after such a short time, is it?
Fuck. I'm a man who's supposed to know what he wants and who isn't afraid to make split-second decisions. Not being able to admit how I feel about Maria makes me feel like a fucking coward.
Reality doesn't settle in again until we're on the flight back home, and each hour that draws us closer to Chicago seems to be pushing the two of us apart. My Maria, with the love bites still red on her neck, leans away from me, chewing at her kiss-swollen bottom lip. By the time the plane lands, she doesn't even make an effort to take my hand or look back as we disembark.
It's pissing me off, but it shouldn't. I told her this was how I wanted things to be. We'd fuck, get it out of our system, and go back to our normal lives, pretending to be in love around my family but being completely separate otherwise. She said yes and agreed to it.
And yet I can't help feeling that things are different now. We had our honeymoon—or maybe a better term would be a sex marathon—and it changed things. Maybe she's just feeling unsure.
Or maybe I'm just an idiot, and this is a game to her.
The drive back to the estate feels longer than it did the last time. That means I have plenty of time to stew over Maria's silence. Once we pull into the driveway, I'm ready to snap, and I take her arm to guide her into the house. Inside, I shut the door behind us and back her against it, caging her in with my arms.
"What's going on with you?" I demand, meeting her gaze. "You've been giving me the cold shoulder since we got on the plane."
Maria crosses her arms, looking away. "Nothing. I'm fine."
"Bullshit," I snap. "Why are you so pissed off at me? Now that the honeymoon is over, you’re feeling like a prisoner again, is that it? Or do you regret letting me fuck you?”
"Is that what you think?" she asks, eyes flashing as she meets my gaze. "You're really that blind? You honestly don't know why I'm upset?"
I frown, confused. "No, I don't. You're the one who agreed to this plan in the first place. I told you from the beginning that we would be married, but it wouldn't have to be anything more than that. I gave you an out. I did exactly what you wanted. What the fuck do you want from me now?"
"Nothing." She pushes against my arm, trying to get past me. I let her go, watching as she stalks toward the stairs. "Just leave me alone, okay?"
"Fine," I snap. "Have it your way."
I'm too worked up to follow her. All I want to do is kiss her until she's forgotten about whatever is wrong, drag her back to bed, and fuck her until she forgets about being angry at me. But if she wants to be that way, fine. She's going to get exactly what she asked for.
My father is sittingin his recliner when I walk into his room, reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. He looks up and grins when I walk in, motioning for me to take a seat.
"Welcome home," he says. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"
"Yes, thank you. I didn't get a chance to talk to you before we left. Did you enjoy the wedding, Pops?"
"Of course, I did." He folds the paper and sets it aside. I'm glad to see he looks the same as when we left. I know he's not going to get better, but every day he doesn't get worse is a blessing. "It was perfect. Exactly what I wanted to see before I go."
"Don't talk like that, Pops."
"No, it's true. I'm dying, and I want to die knowing that you're settled."
"I am settled," I promise him.
"I know," he agrees. "But that alone isn't enough. You need someone who can love you with everything they have. Someone who can be by your side through thick and thin. Someone who will be loyal and stand with you no matter what happens."
"And you think Maria is that person?" I ask skeptically.
"I do." My father smiles at me. And then, he says something that makes me think maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am … something that tells me my father knows more about the circumstances of my marriage than he's letting on. "You just need to convince her of that."
Startled, I ask, "What do you mean?"