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  He grabbed her arms, sliding his hands down to encircle her wrists and spun her neatly. “Wait. I want to unwrap you like a present. All silver bows and shiny paper.”

  She gulped and tried to rein in her impatience. “But you said I could smear my lipstick on you,” she told him as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

  His indrawn breath sent a shiver up her spine. And when she looked up his body into his face, his eyes, half lidded and sex drunk, met hers. Held her attention as his gaze told her everything without a single word.

  Grabbing his waistband, she pulled him closer so she could get his trousers opened up. The heat of him blasted her cheek as she freed his cock. Wren wrapped a fist around him and gave a few slow thrusts from root to tip, leaning close to clear away the bead of precome at the tip.

  “Fuck,” he snarled, his hands suddenly in her hair. At first it was a caress, gentle and sweet. But then he gathered it and tugged, guiding her movement in a way she’d never have imagined finding erotic but when it was him it sent a rush of pleasure through her.

  Wren took him as deep as she could to make a pretty lipstick mark and when she pulled back and he saw it, another deep snarling groan came from him.

  Gregori just watched, stunned by what a carnal sight she made, pretty and on her knees, her mouth on his cock, lipstick at the root. Christ, she wrecked him.

  He was caught, torn between the need to climax right then and wanting to fuck her hard and fast before coming inside her.

  He let himself be swallowed by sensation. Let her drag him closer and closer to the edge as she kept his cock slick just the way he liked it best as she sucked and licked him.

  Perfect. She was fucking perfect.

  So perfect he had to force himself to take a step back, still gripping her hair as she attempted to follow.

  “Now you,” he said in a rough voice while pulling her to her feet.

  A pretty flush pinkened her cheeks as he got close again. Close enough to take her mouth for a kiss. Smearing the very last of the red she’d had on her lips.

  “I wasn’t done,” she told him prettily, knowing how hot that always got him. That playful pout that he knew only he ever got to see.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be finishing the job. Just in a different way. A way I want.”

  He held back a grin at the way she sucked in a breath, her sleepy gaze gone very attentive.

  Then he set about unwrapping her just as he’d said he wanted to do.

  She’d stepped from her shoes already, so it was easy to bend, one of her hands at his shoulder for balance as she stepped from her pants. The top was more complicated as she had to help him pull it free, the metallic strands cool against his skin.

  In her panties—a tiny scrap of black lace—and nothing else but her wedding ring, she stood before him while he looked his fill. “The best present ever,” he told her as he made quick work of the rest of his clothes and backed her to the bed.

  “Always trying to get me on my back, Grisha,” she told him with a laugh.

  “My main goal in life,” he agreed as he climbed over her, dropping kisses wherever he pleased, coming to rest, face to face with her so he could take her lips again.

  He’d always found kissing to be overrated, something to be done on the way to other parts he far preferred. Until Wren and the pleasure of kissing and kissing came into his life. Long slow kisses that had drugged him even as he’d been inflamed.

  Her taste never failed to bring him home.

  Her body fit him perfectly as he held her to his side and kissed her mouth, her closed eyelids, brows, cheeks, across her forehead and then down her throat.

  Her skin was fragrant and ultra soft as he skated his lips over her collarbone before heading down to lick over each nipple until they stood hard and dark, slick from his mouth.

  Need beat at him but he ignored it as best he could, wanting her to be aflame with it when he finally got inside her.

  He licked over the lines of her tattoos, the edge of her hipbone, the well of her belly button and the swell and dip just below it until he wound up between her thighs. Life was always best right there anyway.

  Breathing in deep, he kept that in his lungs for a while before blowing across her pussy, delighting in the way she shivered and shifted, raising herself to get closer to his mouth.

  Once he took a lick he was lost in her. Lost in her taste as he slowly but surely drove her up and over into a climax that had her gripping his hair so hard it made his eyes sting a little as she said his name. Like a demand for more so he gave it to her.

  Gave it to her so well she finally let go and scooted up slightly to break contact not too long later.

  “Wow,” she said, slurring her words a little. “I guess the sex didn’t disappear after the wedding.”

  “Not today anyway,” he told her as he nudged her thighs a little wider and, after angling himself, entered her with one thrust that had him seeing stars at how wet and hot she was.

  Slow and very deep, he fucked her as she wrapped those long, strong legs around him and held on.

  She matched him, arching to meet his thrusts, her short nails digging into his shoulders.

  He murmured and snarled in a mix of Russian and English, telling her how much he loved her, how sexy she was, that she was the queen of his life. She looked up into his face, amused and full of affection and he knew everything he’d done was all right because it had brought them both right to that moment. Her inner walls gripped his cock in a wave of heat as he reached down to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts.

  Until she began to come again and there was nothing left but to follow until he came as well. Holding her beneath him until he had enough energy to roll to the side and haul her into his body.

  “Well there, Mister Ivanov, you sure do know how to keep a wife happy,” she said lazily, resting her head on his chest.

  “I need food and some champagne and then we can continue making you happy, wife.”

  “Wife,” she said. “I like that.”

  Gregori did too. Very much.

  Chapter Five

  She peered down at him, still sleeping. The sun had risen a few hours before and she was really hungry. So she poked his side. “Are you awake?” she asked.

  He cracked one eye open. “No.”

  “Fine. Then I’m going to get breakfast. I’ll see you in an hour or so. I may do some shopping at that little antiques place we saw on the way back from the courthouse yesterday.”

  She flounced into the bathroom where she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, knowing when she stepped out again he’d be sitting up.

  And he was. The sheet pooled perilously around his waist, just about ready to dip low enough for her to see his wedding tackle.

  “Oh did I wake you?” she asked brightly.

  He flipped her off as he stood and, naked as a jaybird, headed into the bathroom. “Don’t go anywhere without me,” he called through the closed door.

  When he came out to where she’d been waiting, dressed and ready, she jumped up and into his arms. “Hi.”

  “You’re very cheerful this morning. I’m nervous.”

  “I’m cheerful in general. I have a lovely personality and winning ways. Have you never met me before?” she asked, deadpan.

  He snorted and didn’t reply to that. “Where are we going to breakfast?”

  They ended up at a funky place with a lot of stuffed animal heads on the walls, which creeped her out, but the coffee was fantastic and the biscuits and gravy were not only delicious but obviously scratch made.

  Gregori had no such hesitation about stuffed animals, so he ate a huge stack of pancakes, along with sausage links, scrambled eggs and then a cinnamon roll the size of a dinner plate.

  If anyone could make dessert for breakfast a thing, it was her husband.
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br />   “Which way are we headed today?” he asked her.

  The night before, after a few rounds of some spectacular wedding night sex and then room service, she’d planned out the first two days of their trip back to Seattle.

  “We’re headed to Butte, Montana, today. I got us a room at a fancy historical house turned into a bed and breakfast. It’s not that far, just three or so hours north of here. Then we’ll do stuff in town.”

  “Stuff?”

  “Fun stuff.”

  He sighed but then shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Then we’re headed to Missoula where there will be river rafting. Which is not excessive exercise so don’t argue. You just have to sit there and hold on.”

  “While I ride on a piece of rubber a bunch of college kids have blown air into as we go over water and jagged rocks at high speed? Sounds delightful,” he said.

  She sent him a look, knowing he was teasing. Mostly. He liked adventure and wasn’t allergic to outdoor activities, but she was definitely the more sporty of the two. It wasn’t like she signed them up for the backcountry mountain biking tour she saw.

  “We need sunscreen, but I’m sure we can grab some on our way out of town today. I’ll drive so you can look broody and sexy-scary in the passenger seat.” And because he usually hated to drive long distances.

  They paid for their food and headed back to the hotel to pack up and check out. True to their word, the company that owned the jet had paid for their stay and she planned to send them the bill for every night’s stay from there to Seattle. Gregori used them enough that it would be handled or Kelsey would be sure heads rolled.

  “It’s really nice that you have my cousin managing your life,” Wren told him as they loaded the luggage into the back of the SUV Kelsey managed to rent for them. AC, all the most modern electronic stuff like GPS and satellite radio and all that jazz would keep Gregori happy and make navigation much simpler.

  “She’s very handy. She should be president. Everyone would get in line and be nice or she’d scare them into behaving.”

  “If I didn’t love you so much I’d try to steal her away. I need a Kelsey to manage my life,” she told Gregori before tiptoeing up to kiss him.

  “I love you so much I’d probably let you, but then complain a lot.”

  That made her laugh as they got on the road, headed north. “Most likely.”

  “Call your mothers so we can tell them we’re married. Then we’ll handle my parents,” he told her as they cleared the city limits. It was a gorgeous summer day. There were trees and mountains all around and it was good to be alive and with her man.

  She just hoped like hell her moms were going to take the news all right.

  Over the speakers, Wren listened to the ringing and then Momma Nell answered.

  “Good morning, sweetheart, how are you today?”

  “Hey, Momma Nell! I’m really good. Is Mom around and if so, can you get her on the line too?” Wren asked.

  Her mothers were strong women who’d done an excellent job raising Wren and her brother. They’d taught all the right lessons, held their kids accountable for being good human beings and supported their kids in whatever endeavors they embarked on. Though naturally they also didn’t hold back with advice or commentary if they felt it was necessary.

  “Are you pregnant?” Nell was a midwife, the nurturer of the two.

  Wren coughed back a laugh. “No!”

  “Okay then. I’ll go get her.”

  A short few seconds later and both her moms were on the line. “So. Gregori and I got married.”

  “What? When?” Both moms spoke at once, firing off questions, giving their congratulations in one stream of noise.

  Wren let them go on for long moments before she interrupted to give them a short version of the path that had led to a judge with a cowboy hat and a handlebar mustache presiding over their wedding vows not even twenty-four hours prior.

  “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have come out for it,” Nell asked.

  “We didn’t tell anyone,” Wren said, hoping they never found out that Kelsey knew before anyone else had. “We wanted something small. Just Gregori and me. We’ll have a party later on. I promise.”

  Mom Tara grumbled but gave in. Wren knew she’d be planning things soon after the call ended. That’s how she was. Lists and plans and organization. She and Nell fit perfectly. So well Wren hoped she and Gregori could continue to build the same sort of strong, connected marriage her moms had.

  After the I-love-yous were done and the call had ended, Gregori dialed his parents and had a similar call, though in Russian. His father, a man who could charm just about anyone, was pleased and congratulated them both. His mother though, she was annoyed, feeling like she’d been left out.

  Gregori soothed her in his way. Told her they’d love a family party—which meant they’d have more than one as that was what Wren’s moms would do as well and the three women all had very different ways of doing things. It helped that he managed to make it sound like they were the first to hear but it wasn’t a lie. Exactly.

  It was best for both sides of their union to not feel left out or second to the other and if a white lie could avoid a potential situation, Wren was totally cool with that.

  Because his parents were loving and happy to see their son and Wren together, it was all good in the end as they’d given their blessing. Since she and Gregori had begun to seriously see one another, they’d been very kind to her, welcoming her into their big, noisy and sometimes complicated family. Six years of holidays and dinners around tables of parents, aunts, cousins and the like. As his cousins—close as brothers to him—had found their partners, those people had become her friends too.

  And now she was one of them in a legal way, yes, but it felt deeper than that. Belonging to the Ivanov/Orlov clan was something she loved and was continually grateful for. Even if they all were totally nosy, opinionated and prone to just popping over to say hello as the mood struck.

  This new step was exciting and a little scary too. She only hoped she could live up to their expectations. Gregori’s family was essential to him, as hers was to Wren. It was one of the reasons she loved him. If they hadn’t approved, it would have been far more difficult.

  Once he disconnected, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “That’s done. Now we can have fun. I’m going to call music choices for the next hour,” he told her with a grin.

  “Fine. We like the same music anyway so it’s not like it’s a punishment.”

  “Would you like a punishment?” he teased.

  “Depends on the punishment,” she told him, knowing he’d show her just what he meant once they’d gotten checked in for the night.

  The thought sent a delightful rush of heat through her as Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats’ “Tearing at the Seams” began to play over the car’s sound system.

  The drive was gorgeous as the day was clear and sunny. The air smelled like pine and warm bark, which was something she’d always loved. As the roads they needed to use to get to Butte were littered with wilderness areas and tourist stops, there were plenty of roadside stops. More than enough food, woodcarvings, pictures of bigfoot, shiny colorful things to stick in gardens or in backyards and other doodads. She waited for one that called to her before pulling off the highway into the lot.

  Gregori gave her a look so she said, “Dude, let’s get some buffalo jerky and look at all the carvings.”

  He shrugged and got out, coming around the back of the car to meet her on her side, taking her hand.

  Soon enough, he’d eased himself into the experience, pausing to peer at a windsock or some chimes made of reclaimed copper as she took pictures.

  While at the register, paying for a few things she’d wanted—chocolate, some jerky, the wind chimes Gregori had admired—Wren asked the checker if she could reco
mmend any good places to get a meal in or around Butte.

  By the time she headed back to the last spot she’d seen Gregori, it was to find him engaged in a deep conversation with the woodcarver about what sorts of materials were best and, if she was interpreting correctly, what tools worked with what wood.

  It wasn’t that they were speaking any other language, but both men were clearly taciturn and broody so it was a lot of two or three word questions and two or three word replies.

  She just paused, leaning against the side of the general store and watched him. Sunglasses hid his eyes and lent him an air of bad boy along with the ink on his arms his T-shirt didn’t conceal. His jeans were perfectly worn in all the right places.

  He looked so fucking delicious she wanted to lick him. He was hers, so she supposed she could. That cheered her immensely as he turned, noticing her there and sent her a smile.

  “Did you buy a six-foot woodcarver bear or something?” she asked as he approached her.

  “Not yet. One never knows what the day might bring, though.”

  He bent to kiss her.

  “I got you those candy stick things you like. The old fashioned ones. Root beer.” Wren handed him the bag of the pretty brown and white swirled candy. “There’s some other stuff in with it. Some gum, chocolate, all made here.”

  “Thank you for always feeding my sugar addiction,” he murmured before kissing her again.

  “It’s a wifely duty or whatever, I figure.”

  He exclaimed when he caught sight of the wind chimes. “Kotyonok, you spoil me.”

  Happy he’d been pleased, she ducked her head, a blush on her cheeks.

  “Let’s see what the road ahead brings us. Though I do hope it’s not a six-foot-tall wooden bear because where would we put such a thing?”

  “There’s always room for a six-foot-tall wooden bear.”

  That made her laugh before singing along with the music playing.

  * * *

  As they drove past what he’d assumed was the bed and breakfast she’d mentioned and she didn’t turn around, he figured she had other plans.