He released my waist and took my hand, encouraging me to spin. The skirt floated out as I pirouetted. When I stopped, I was back in his grasp.
“I believe it’s time to undress my wedding gift.”
Moving closer, my palms went to his chest. “My wedding gift…Van, it was beautiful. Hearing you play.” I pushed myself against him. “It means more than anything you could buy.”
His thumb caressed my cheek as I lifted my chin, peering up. “There was a time when I loved to play.” He inhaled as if he was seeing what I couldn’t. “An older woman in our neighborhood taught me to play piano. She encouraged me, telling me I had talent—a gift. No one had said that to me before. I worked odd jobs to make enough money to buy a cheap keyboard. I wanted that keyboard more than anything ever in my preteen years.” His expression tensed. “Our house wasn’t big. My father didn’t want noise. It interrupted his constant television viewing. He threatened to throw away the keyboard.”
My heart clenched in my chest. Yet I didn’t want to speak and stop Van’s story.
Van’s chest filled with air. “I bought headphones. I could play that keyboard and no one else could hear. I could play for hours and get lost in the music. Soon I figured out that all I needed to do was hear a song and my fingers would move.”
“I’d love to hear you play more.”
Van smiled. “First I want to hear you.”
“I don’t play well. Years of lessons can’t come close to someone with a gift.”
“I don’t want to hear you play the piano, Julia. I want to listen to your sexy noises as your body reaches new heights and detonates more spectacularly than fireworks lighting up the sky. The noises you make are better than a hundred-piece orchestra.”
“What happened to your keyboard?”
His eyes closed and his nostrils flared as he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What we have downstairs is bigger, better, and more. I found that gem and knew it had to be mine.” His gaze came to mine. “Nothing three million can’t buy.”
“Three million?”
“And I’m satisfied.”
Satisfied.
That one word filled me with peace.
With fire burning in his touch, Van helped me remove the lace shrug and gently pulled the veil from my hair. Spinning so my back was to Van, I said, “Margaret said you’d hate the buttons.”
His touch traced down my spine. “There isn’t a hidden zipper?”
Craning my neck over my shoulder, I smiled at him. “No. One by one.”
His lips came to my neck. One button. “If this wasn’t Mrs. Mayhand’s dress, I would fucking rip it open.”
“Anticipation.”
Kisses and nips to my collarbone sent goose bumps over my skin. Another button. His kisses progressed lower as the buttons came undone. As the tedious process continued, I joined Van in his dislike for the buttons. The anticipation wasn’t only for him. It was for me too. I shuffled my feet as my core twisted and my panties dampened.
With his mission complete, the dress fell from my body, creating an ivory puddle at my shoes. Taking Van’s hand, I stepped from the center of the material wearing lace panties and pumps.
“I’m astonished that you’re really mine.”
“And you’re mine.” I reached for his suit coat and pushed it from his wide shoulders. Once the coat was on the floor, I began to undo his necktie. Simply running the material through my hands made my nipples harden. I pulled the ivory tie from his neck and wrapped it around mine like a scarf, letting one end hang between my breasts. “I’m saving this for later.”
It was my turn to begin the unbuttoning process until Van’s starched shirt was open, revealing his toned torso. Leaning forward, I gently kissed the bandage. Next, I reached for his cuffs, easing the diamond-and-onyx cuff links from their holes.
At last, I knelt and reached for the belt buckle. Looking up at Van through my veiled lashes, I basked within his adoring gaze. With the flames as a backdrop, his orbs were also ablaze. Fidgeting with my growing need, I released the buckle, button, and zipper. As his pants fell to his ankles, my fingers teased the waistband of his silk boxers.
Van dropped to his knees, bringing his face even with mine and palming my cheeks. “You are my wife.”
I nodded.
“You’re fucking gorgeous on your knees, Julia. As Mrs. Sherman you bow for no one.” His finger lifted my chin. “No one. That includes your parents.”