Then I return to my wife’s waiting arms.

An hour later, it’s speech time. Completely at ease, Matthew taps his glass with a spoon and then addresses the silenced crowd.

“As the best man, I could stand up here and tell you stories about Drew and Kate. How they met, their accomplishments and battles at the office, what amazing parents they are, how devoted they are to family and friends. But that would take a long time . . . and dessert is coming.” The audience chuckles. “So I’ll sum it up like this: Drew is one of a kind in the greatest of ways. When God made him, he broke the mold. But he didn’t want him to be alone. So he made Kate, and then he broke her mold too.” Matthew raises his glass and the crowd raise theirs. “If ever there was a man and a woman who were perfect for each other, who deserve each other and bring out the best in each other—it’s you two. Congratulations on your marriage—may it be long and fun and frisky—and may you always look at one another the way you do today. To Drew and Kate.”

Got to hand it to him—Matthew knows how to give a good f**king speech.

After toasting us, the crowd calls for a kiss—which I’m more than happy to provide.

Later, after Delores got wasted and dragged Kate and Billy onstage to sing “That’s What Friends Are For,” after the cake was cut and I licked the icing off Kate’s lips, after Kate threw her bouquet into Erin’s waiting arms, and Dee’s stepbrother made a diving catch of the garter, we dance the final dance.

The floor is packed with our family, with all of our friends. In the center are me and Kate. I hold a sleeping James with one arm, his head on my shoulder. The other arm is around Kate’s waist, holding her tight against me, her head on my chest, my lips resting against her hair.

If you’ve got a camera, I’d whip it out right about now—’cause that’s the money shot. The picture you’re going to want to remember.

My parents take James to their room for the night. Kate and I fly out tomorrow afternoon. While we’re gone, James will stay a week with my sister and Steven, and a week with Matthew and Dee. Then, my parents will bring him out to us on the Amalfi Coast in Italy. They’ll take off on their own romantic getaway, and Kate, James, and I will enjoy the last leg of the honeymoon together.

The elevator opens on the top floor. Before Kate steps out, I sweep her into my arms and cradle her as I walk to our suite.

“You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold, Drew. Not through the whole hotel.”

I shrug. “I’ve always been an overachiever.”

I open the door and carry her in. The bed is awesome. An oversize king with huge, fluffy pillows, red silk sheets, and a comforter of the softest down. Rose petals are scattered in a path to the bed and over the covers, giving off a soft but fragrant scent.

I shift Kate in my arms and slide her down my body. Her eyes dance with happy mischief as they look into mine. “I’m going to need some help getting out of this dress.”

I crack my knuckles. “You’ve got the right man for the job.”

My fingers ghost along the silky skin of her back. I take my time with the buttons, popping each one slowly, giving Kate’s imagination time to run wild.

As the last button is released, I step closer to Kate. I watch, fascinated, as the pulse in her neck throbs quickly with anticipation. I cover it with my mouth, sucking gently. Kate lifts her head and leans back.

“I’ve thought about this all day,” I whisper against her skin. “Getting you here, getting you bare.”

“So have I.”

With one tug, the lace and satin pools around her feet, revealing my favorite playground. Kate steps over the dress and turns to me. Though I’m not a lingerie man, her undergarments are nothing short of beautiful. Blue silk with a white lace overlay—the bra strapless, the panties bikini, leading to sexy garters that keep opaque stockings in place.

There’s wonder in Kate’s voice as she says, “You’re my husband.” Then she smiles giddily. “How great is that?”

I chuckle. “It’s pretty f**king awesome.” I step purposefully to her. “And right now, your husband wants to sixty-nine his wife.” I lick my lips. “A lot.”

I loosen my tie and pull it off. But when I start with the buttons of my shirt, Kate’s hand stops me. “Let me do it.”

She watches her fingers as they reveal inch after inch of my heated skin. She opens my shirt, pushing it and my jacket down and off my arms. Then her hands run over my shoulders slowly, across my chest, down my abs.

In a husky voice she says, “I love your body, Drew. So strong, so hard . . . I could spend all night just touching you like this.”

My heart pounds in my chest.

She opens my belt, the clasp of my pants. She crouches and kisses the happy trail. “And this right here”—her tongue traces the V of my upper pelvis, sculpted lines that show when sweats sit low on my hips—“this is my favorite part.”

My breathing speeds up, and when her tongue goes back to teasing, I can’t help but thrust forward, wanting it so frigging badly to be her I’m thrusting into.

Her mouth, her cunt . . . not choosy at the moment.

She drags my pants down my legs, and because of its proximity to Kate’s mouth, my c**k aches. Finally naked, I sit on the bed and crook my finger at Kate. “Come here.”

She stands, and, keeping her bridal heels on, she struts to me. I grasp her hips; she braces one knee on the bed, straddling my waist. My hands move to her face, holding it still, and I kiss her roughly, sucking on her tongue, making her moan.

While I worship her mouth, Kate’s h*ps gyrate, seeking friction. When she finds it against my dick, I grunt. Moving to her jaw and neck, I scour her skin with my lips and teeth—sucking and nibbling—while my deft fingers unclasp her bra from behind.

When her bra falls down, I lean back for the best view. “Jesus, your tits are beautiful.” I take one in my palm, massaging and kneading, before bringing it to my mouth and suckling greedily.

Kate shouts nonsensical words and clasps my head to her breast. I lave at her nipple, then fall back on the bed, taking her with me. From this position, both of her tits are accessible—I take advantage and alternate between them—kissing and flicking each hard nipple with my tongue.

Full-out panting, Kate rears back and her eyes meet mine. I’m burning up, needing more—I can’t remember ever being this desperate for her.