Page 43 of Stitch
“I’ll go! You guys have a great time, and don’t worry about a thing here.”
Alicia hopped out of the camper, and I looked around it. It was perfect. It was probably a few years old, but it was a rental, so it was well maintained. Alicia had left the paperwork there with the printouts of places to visit. I wasn’t going to bother with those though. This was more important for Stitch, so I wanted him to choose wherever we went.
“Ready to go, wife?” His words sent a shiver down my spine.
“I think so, husband. Oh my god… husband. Did that really just happen?”
Stitch pulled me tight against his chest. He’d worn his cut and a shirt with dark jeans and looked so sexy, I wanted to tear off his clothes, but this wasn’t the time or place.
Someone pounded a fist on the side of the camper.
“Don’t start the van rocking here, VP, nobody wants to see that!” I giggled as Stitch opened the door, and stuck a middle finger out at whoever was still there.
Stitch. My husband. Wow. And there wasn’t an ounce of regret inside me at this moment. I only felt excitement, joy, and a desperate need to be closer to him. I dragged him back inside, mid-conversation with whoever the hell he was heckling, and wrapped my arms around him, kissing him hard.
“Let’s go on our honeymoon, my husband. We’ve got to leave here to do that though.”
Stitch couldn’t stop smiling. I’d never seen him look so happy, and admittedly, I’d known him a day or so at most, but it felt like I was seeing the real him for the first time. The version of him that was unburdened by his fears and his impending expiry date. There was this thought in the back of my mind that without that hanging over him, this would never have happened, but I chose to ignore it, because this felt too right to be wrong.
“I’m the luckiest fucking man on the planet, girl. I can’t wait to get this thing parked up somewhere private, so I can fuck your brains out.”
I giggled and kissed him again, and then pulled back with a gasp, when I realised the flaw in that otherwise perfect plan.
“We can’t!”
He gripped my chin, and glared down at me.
“Just try and fucking stop us, Camille. We have to consummate our marriage, right?”
“Doc swore you off sex for a few days, remember?”
“Fuck!”
Twenty-Four
Typical of me, Iget married to the woman I can’t believe lowered herself to be with me, and I can’t even fuck her on our wedding night. I guess I shouldn’t look at that as a hint at what she’d signed up for, but I couldn’t help it.
“We need to get driving, Stitch. Where shall we go?”
I rattled the keys in my hand.
“Anywhere you want, wife. Where do you want me to drive us?”
She laughed, and snatched the keys.
“I’m adding driving one of these to my bucket list, so you have to let me drive for a bit. This is so cool! You choose though. There must be places you want to see, or revisit um… you know, for fun.”
“Before I die, you mean. Good call, gorgeous. Get that fine ass behind the wheel, and we’ll get going.”
She glanced down at the mid-length purple dress she must have borrowed from Lissa.
“I should change into something more suitable for driving in.”
I smirked at her, suddenly full of wicked ideas for my sweet little wife.
“No, you’re wearing this. It looks fucking stunning on you, but you’re gonna want to lose the underwear I’m assuming you’re wearing.”
She shot me a look. “Oh, am I?”
