Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) (14 page)

Knowing I was the only man who had ever touched her did great things to my male ego. Being full aware that I would be the only one to ever see her in a thong . . . yeah, it rendered me speechless.

“Good. I’m glad we worked that out.” She laughed.

I tried unsuccessfully to adjust myself in my pants. I settled on buttoning my jacket instead. I heard Lailah snicker beside me, and I tossed her the evil eye.

Together, we picked up the knife and gently sliced through the bottom tier of the cake as cameras snapped and flashed behind us. Cutting a single piece, we placed it on the porcelain plate the wait staff had provided. I looked up and saw Lailah’s eyebrow rise in challenge.

Apparently, I was going first.

I picked up the plate and cut a small piece with the fork. Ever so gently, making sure I kept my thong rights intact, I fed my bride a tiny piece of cake. A bit of triumph swam in those crystal-blue eyes as she took the plate from me and began the same process.

I watched her pick up the piece of chocolate cake with her fingers, just as I had. Amusement painted her porcelain skin as she came toward me, and then shrieks of hysteria were heard throughout the ballroom after she’d shoved the piece of cake in my face, smearing frosting and cake crumbs all over my skin.

I should have known.

My tongue darted out and licked a piece of frosting hanging on the corner of my lip as people giggled.

“Mmm . . . it’s good,” I said. “Really good. Want to try?” I asked Lailah.

She backed away. “No!” she squealed right before I grabbed her waist.

“Jude!” She laughed as I caught her lips in a sugary-sweet kiss.

“Cheater,” I whispered.

“Just keeping you on your toes.” She reminded me.

“You always do.”

And she always would.

“I about died when your brother caught my garter,” Lailah exclaimed, falling back into the corner of the limo with a giggle.

“I don’t even think he knew what he was doing over there. He looked completely confused when the little blue lacy thing landed on his head,” I replied.

I sipped on a bottle of water as we came to a brief stop.

The wedding was officially over, and we’d just had our grand departure. We could have stayed at the hotel where the reception was held. It was a beautiful and well-known establishment in New York, but for our wedding night, I wanted to be as far away from our friends and family as I could be—or at least as far away as the city would allow.

Tomorrow, we would board a private plane and begin our honeymoon, but tonight, I wanted Lailah to be comfortable and relaxed. I knew the day had probably already drained her. Adding a flight to that was more than I would be willing to risk. Her health was always the most important thing to me. I would never take the chance.

“I have a feeling that Marcus might have had something to do with that,” she interjected, lifting her feet up onto my legs.

I slid off her shoes and began rubbing her sore feet. “Oh?”

“Well, I saw them talking minutes before you dived under my dress,” she said, giving me a hard stare.

“That is how you’re supposed to do it!” I feigned innocence. “I looked it up on the Internet.”

“I’m pretty sure you gave some of the old ladies in attendance a heart attack.” She laughed.

I shrugged. “I was just doing my job as a new husband.”

“Anyway,” she went on, “Marcus seemed to be herding Roman in that general direction after I’d tossed the bouquet. He must have decided Roman needed a bit of fun.”

“I’m not sure my brother really understands the word unless it involves alcohol and hookers.”

“Jude!”

“Come on, Lailah. Why do you keep defending him?”

Her focus shifted to the passing building as we drove down the streets of the city. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just the fighter in me. I’m hoping that, somewhere deep inside him, there’s someone worth saving.”

I leaned forward, my thumb grazing her cheek. “How do you always manage to see the good in people?” I asked.

“Because everyone deserves to have someone on their side.”

“Even Roman?”

She smiled softly. “Especially him. He’s your brother.”

“You’re entirely too good for this world.” I sighed as the car finally pulled up to our destination.

I’d picked one of the oldest, most grand hotels in New York and requested only the best for our wedding night. I wanted her to feel like a princess. In my eyes though, she was a queen.

“Hopefully, not too good,” Lailah commented offhandedly as I moved toward to the door.

“Huh?” I turned to see a wicked smile curving around her lips.

“I mean, it is our wedding night. I don’t think you want me to be a saint.”

She bent forward to crawl toward the car door. It was practically necessary, but the way she did it was not. Slow and sultry, she made the most of whatever was underneath that dress, so deliciously jutting her breasts forward as she squeezed her arms together. It accentuated every deep curve, and I suddenly felt my mouth go dry.

“I think we need to check in—quickly,” I said hoarsely.

“Agreed.”

All those days so long ago, when I’d walked into a hospital room and met a shy, sweet girl—who later managed to steal my heart with her courageous spirit and zeal for life—I’d never expected to see her blossom into such an amazingly voracious woman. I’d loved her then—when she’d been young and naive about the world around her—and every day since, I’d found new pieces of her to fall for all over again as she took her place in this life she so desperately deserved.

The chauffeur held the car door open for us, and we both stepped out, mindful of the billowing fabric that encompassed Lailah. Every time I looked at her, I still found myself doing a double take. On a normal day, she was lovely, a vision even. But today? I couldn’t even find words. I couldn’t stop staring at her. I was dumbfounded by the fact that, just mere hours ago, she’d stood in front of a church filled with our family and friends and pledged her life and soul to me.

In all my days, I’d never understand how I deserved so much.

With her hand tightly laced in mine, I tugged her toward the entrance, not bothering to wait for our luggage. The chauffeur knew what to do. I had other things to worry about—like just how many buttons were on the back of that heavenly dress and how long it would take me to get it off her.

Check-in was quick, and within minutes, we were gliding upward in the elevator toward the top floor.

“Oh, no. What have you done this time?” she asked warily as the numbers zoomed by, and we climbed higher and higher.

“Don’t fuss. It’s our wedding night. I only did what was required for such a monumental occasion.”

I didn’t miss the slight roll of her eyes, but she didn’t say anything further. She must not have noticed the quick swipe of our key across the elevator panel before the doors had closed. Once they opened again, the gasp of surprise that escaped her lips immediately filled the tiny space.

This hotel room wasn’t an ordinary room. It was the presidential suite, and it took up the entire top floor. When the doors parted, we were met with dozens of glowing candles lining the private entryway into our suite.

“Jude,” she whispered, her hand reaching up to clutch the spot where her heart resided, “it’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.”

“Will you let me carry you over the threshold?”

She simply nodded, her eyes dotted with tears. Bending forward, I lifted my bride, my wife, and my reason for breathing, and I carried her over the tiny threshold of the elevator and into our future.

“YOU’RE INSANE!” I exclaimed the minute my feet touched the plush carpet of our suite.

If you could even call it that.

Mini palace
stuffed inside the inner workings of a hotel seemed a bit more adequate.

“Maybe a little,” he said.

My eyes continued their seemingly endless tour from one side of the living area to the other. Through a slightly open door, I could see another room, which appeared to be a library. It looked to be covered in wood paneling and filled with books.

Our honeymoon suite had a library.

A freaking library.

“A simple bed would have sufficed,” I muttered, pulling my eyes away from the books. I tried to hide the drool as I secretly wondered what treasures might lie inside.

He chuckled as our eyes met. “I’ll let you dive in there—later,” he said, the light green of his irises darkening. “Much later.”

My stomach clenched in anticipation. Books, a fancy hotel room, and every other detail that was floating around in my erratic brain suddenly went dormant, except for one—Jude.

There was only him.

And every part of me wanted to melt into his warmth and his unwavering strength and never solidify again.

He must have noticed the change in my tone. One second, he was playfully smiling at me from across the room, and the next, I was in his firm embrace.

“You are my wife now, Lailah,” he said softly, the words spoken with such reverence.

My breathing slowed as I inhaled each beautiful word.

“The other half to my soul. The angel I managed to steal from heaven itself.” His fingers lifted to brush hair from my eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible that I could love you more, but you constantly prove me wrong, each and every day.”

I couldn’t take any more.
Could a woman’s heart actually fail from too much romance?

Because one more word, and that new ticker of mine might combust.

He was too good. I could spend a lifetime doing nothing but good deeds, and I’d never fully earn the love he believed I was worth. He thought I was the better half of the whole we’d created, but he was so incredibly wrong.

He was my better half in every way, and the fact that he didn’t see it proved my point exactly.

Before he had a second longer to utter anything more, I silenced him with a kiss—the kind of kiss that spoke a hundred words and a thousand emotions without a single sound. It spoke of love, commitment, and devotion without syllables or vowels. Poems and stanzas were unnecessary when two mouths moved against each other in perfect synchronization. A sonnet or even the most captivating ballad couldn’t surpass the incredible masterpiece that was made when his lips touched mine.

Our kiss never broke as he bent down and lifted me into his arms to carry me to the bedroom. I’d like to say the rest of the grand suite was beautiful and well-appointed, but I honestly didn’t look.

I only saw Jude and those amazing green eyes staring back at me.

Quickly kicking off my shoes as we entered the room, it took a moment before I noticed the candles. Much like the entrance, the bedroom was awash with dozens of tiny candles covering nearly every surface. Rose petals adorned the bed, and somewhere, a speaker softly played our song.

He gently set me down and turned me so that I could fully see the room.

“It’s gorgeous,” I said.

“Mmm,” was the only reply I got as his fingers found the top of my zipper.

“Oh, thank God. No buttons,” he commented as the sound of my dress being slowly unzipped filled the air.

“I specifically requested that.”

I smiled, remembering the way I’d blushed like a fool when I asked for that particular customization on my dress. The original design had tiny pearl buttons down the back, and after one glance, I knew it would drive my impatient new husband insane, so I’d asked if they could add a hidden zipper and faux buttons. As my face had turned beet red, the shop owner laughed, taking my hand into her own.

“Oh, honey,” she’d said. “Believe me, you’re not the only one who’s asked for that specific alteration to a dress. Men”—she’d winked—“are not known for their patience.”

As the dress fell to the floor with ease, I was thankful I’d taken the risk and done what I wanted, regardless of the initial embarrassment it had caused me.

I stepped out of the gauzy skirt and turned. Jude’s face was worth all the embarrassment in the world, and I was so glad it hadn’t taken forever to figure out how to get me out of a dress.

“So, this is what heart failure feels like?” he joked, clutching his chest. “Good to know.”