Part I (Chapters 1-84) was written by Jude. We have revised these chapters solely to fix typos and correct inconsistencies critical to the flow of the story and posted them here for your reading pleasure.

Disclaimer: This is an AU story set before the timeline of Janet Evanovich's series. Many of the characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Some are original to this story. No one is making any money from this.

CHAPTER 20

When I emerged from the bathroom some 15 minutes later, clad in my schoolgirl 'uniform'-or at least the best I could come up with, given my limited wardrobe at the hotel-I found Carlos sitting at the desk, his fingers steepled and his look very very stern and nerve-tinglingly dangerous. I was late, and I was definitely in trouble with the Headmaster.

I had to bite down hard on my lip to suppress a smile. He had taken one of the ripped bands from his silk shirt that I'd used to tie him to the bed and fashioned it into a make-shift tie. He wore it against his bare chest and the tie ran a straight line down to my favorite portion of his anatomy. I slowly walked over to the desk, enjoying the sight of his eyes roaming over my body.

What exactly had I settled on for my 'uniform'? I'd found a perfect use for the red plaid miniskirt I'd picked up on special sale from the Victoria's Secret website. I had gotten it then had second thoughts, so I'd brought it with me intending to offer it to Amanda-it seemed more her style than mine-but I was relieved now I hadn't had the chance to give it up just yet. I paired it with a white tailored cotton blouse that I'd left unbuttoned and tied under my breasts, leaving my tummy naked. I'd donned a white bra and panties and chosen black fishnet thigh highs leading down to my 4 ½ inch black snakeskin stilettos. My hair was in pig tails, and I saw his wicked glimmer of amusement as he noted it. I had no doubt at all he was well satisfied with this costume….

My voice was low and breathy, as I did my best to interject just the right amount of nervousness to my tone. After all, the Headmaster was hot-but he'd also warned he was very strict. "I was ordered to report to you, Headmaster Carlos." A long pause, while I allowed my eyes to glissade over his body head to toe-stopping at the ever-growing bulge that I knew would provide so much delicious pleasure once the fantasy got really rolling. "I'm here now. What was it you wanted, sir?"

He took a deep breath and did his best version of my Burg death glare. "How good of you to find room in your undoubtedly very busy schedule to finally join me, Miss Mazur."

Mazur? I blinked, then realized that he'd assumed Grandma Mazur was my father's mother and that Mazur was my maiden name. Not surprising, those notorious sex-crazed Hungarian genes we shared didn't really sound like anything my straight-laced mother would have had any part of; I found it hard to reconcile it myself sometimes. I opened my mouth to correct him, only to be cut off immediately.

"Silence! There are only two reasons for you to ever open your mouth in my presence. One is to give out answers if I ask you for them. And the other is to take my cock inside when I allow you the privilege of sucking it. No other reasons. None. Do you understand the rules of Headmaster Carlos' Disciplinary Academy For Naughty Little Sluts, Stephanie?"

Oh boy. Did I!

"Yes," I said, my doodah tingling at the thought of taking Carlos' huge length into my mouth again. "I understand the rules of your Academy, Headmaster Carlos."

"I'm very displeased with your conduct, Stephanie. You clearly have no respect for my busy schedule-you were ordered to be here at a specific time. And you're quite late. No explanations can justify your conduct, so I will not waste any more time by questioning what you found to do that was more important than obeying my summons. But I take your lateness as a deliberate insult to me personally. You're going to have to be punished severely for your tardiness. You deserve that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." I lowered my eyes in subservience. "I deserve to be punished severely."

"You will be," he assured me, "But not only for that, you naughty little girl. Your conduct since you've been a student here at my Academy has been truly abysmal. Your professors have been reporting to me in detail on all of your bad behavior throughout the semester. Your repeated tardiness to all of your classes. Your extremely surly and uncooperative attitude towards any and all authority. Your refusal to study your required lessons and do your homework. I'm growing more and more…displeased…with you as time goes by." His hand brushed the bulge straining to be free of his tight jeans and I could tell exactly what was growing. At a very satisfactory pace, it seemed to me. And it sure didn't seem displeased at all. Quite the contrary, in fact!

I licked my lips in anticipation of what-and who-was to come: namely me. Any time now, too, if that eager feeling down South was any indication. I met his eyes, now almost black in arousal, and my toes curled at the heat he returned in his blazing stare. Mindful of the rules, I said nothing.

"You have, from all reports, a seemingly limitless ability to behave shamefully and provocatively. To bring disgrace upon the Academy and me, personally, as its Headmaster. Do you know what I find to be the single most reprehensible act you've committed thus far, Stephanie?"

"No, sir." I shuffled my feet nervously, feigning discomfort and trying my best to look both shameful and provocative. "I have no idea, Headmaster Carlos."

"You have no idea?" His eyebrow arched scornfully, "Well, that just says it all, now doesn't it, Miss Mazur? 'I have no idea.' Do you know what that tells me? Do you?"

"No, sir," I shrugged hopelessly, "Except-"

"Except?" he prompted.

"That I'm stupid?" I guessed, eyes downcast.

"You're anything but stupid, Stephanie," he gave me a contemptuous snort, "No, stupidity is not one of your many sins, you little vixen. Your conduct is not the result of ignorance, instead, it is willful and deliberate-and the severe discipline you will receive from me will reflect that. No. What your statement tells me is that you've behaved so disgracefully and broken so many rules so often and so egregiously that you have no idea which particular transgression I've heard of that angers me. And I am quite angry with you, Stephanie. Quite angry indeed."

He unbuckled his black leather belt slowly and slid it out of his jeans, folding it carefully into fourths and placing it on the desk where he continued to stroke it calculatingly as his eyes traveled my length.

Eep.

I remembered using that same belt on his tight hot ass no less than six times when we were doing our first fantasy of Intergalactic Princess Stephanie and her Sex Slave. Nope, there was no question about it, I was definitely not a happy little camper right now. I swallowed uncomfortably and bit my lip worriedly. Payback's a bitch, he'd warned me. Looked like I was going to get a taste of my own medicine. Crap! I suddenly recalled his earlier qualification to my firm 'no butt stuff' mandate: 'No butt stuff. Technically', he'd agreed, a treacherous glint in his eyes. Now I understood what he'd meant. Omigod, Omigod, Omigod! Not good, Stephanie! You are in so fucking much trouble now!

He smirked, and I knew damned well he was reading my mind again. "You definitely are, Miss Mazur, a great deal of trouble. In a world of hurt, as they say."

Gulp.

"And I'm not going to insult you with the little platitude that 'this will hurt me more than it hurts you'. Because it won't. I'm going to enjoy every single second of this. And you're not. Count on it."

I opened my mouth to protest and quickly shut it again. No sense in breaking more rules than I already had-whatever they were.

"I suppose you'd like to know exactly which transgression is going to make this next punishment so severe. Wouldn't you, Miss Mazur?"

"Yes, Headmaster. I would." I rocked unhappily on my feet, right to left and back again, trying to keep my eyes off that damned leather belt that sat so prominently on the desk. "If you please, sir."

"I had a very enlightening conversation with one of your professors this evening: Professor Raoul. You remember dear old Professor Raoul, don't you, Miss Mazur? You remember him quite well, I think, now don't you?"

Shit. This just gets worse and worse!

"It does indeed," he agreed smoothly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And to answer your unspoken question, yes, you did say that out loud."

I closed my eyes, unable to look at that damned leather belt a second more. I could already feel the stinging on my tender bottom. No, no, no, no, no! No butt stuff! Not fair!

"Life is not fair, little Stephanie," his voice was soft with amusement, "But you should have thought more carefully about the consequences of your actions when you begged poor mortified Professor Raoul to take you for a little pony ride, now shouldn't you?"

"Yes, sir. I made a mistake, Headmaster Carlos. I shouldn't have asked him-"

"No, indeed you shouldn't have," he sighed unhappily, "You should have asked me instead. But you didn't…"

I swallowed nervously, seeing him pick up the belt. Apparently the time was at hand for my punishment.

"However," he paused, and seemed to consider carefully, "Given that Professor Raoul assures me that nothing actually transpired between the two of you-"

I held my breath hopefully. Disaster might still be averted!

"Did it, Stephanie? Did anything at all untoward happen between you and Professor Raoul?"

"No, Headmaster Carlos," I shook my head firmly, "Nothing at all happened. Not ever. I promise. Nothing. I don't even like Professor Raoul."

"You were just being a naughty little minx and trying to provoke me, is that it? By teasing poor Professor Raoul and waiting for him to report your shameful proposal to me."

"Yes, sir. I was being very naughty."

"And deliberately trying to provoke me."

"Yes, sir. I was. I'm sorry."

"Why exactly was it that you felt the need to provoke me, Miss Mazur?"

"Because-because-"

"Because?" His hand waved impatiently, encouraging me to get to the point quickly.

"Because I wanted you to take me for a pony ride. And you wouldn't do it. Sir."

His mouth twitched as he fought to control a smile. "That's because a pony ride is a very very special treat only intended for good little girls. Not for bad little girls like yourself. Do you really think that you-of all the little naughty sluts in my Disciplinary Academy-deserve a pony ride from me, after all of your repeatedly disgraceful behavior while you've been here?"

"No, sir," I sighed unhappily. "I don't deserve a pony ride from you."

"Exactly." He shook his head firmly. "You don't."

"But I still want one anyway." I blurted.

There was a moment's silence.

"Did I warn you about opening your mouth?" his voice was hard and clipped. "Did I, Miss Mazur?"

"Yes, Headmaster Carlos. You did. You warned me."

"Under what two circumstances did I tell you I would permit you to open your mouth?"

"To answer your question, sir. If you asked one."

"And?"

"To-to-"

"To what, Miss Mazur?"

"To suck your cock, Headmaster Carlos. When you chose to permit it."

"And neither condition applied in this case, did it?"

I shook my head. "No, sir."

"My, my! You do seem to be either unwilling or unable to follow any of the rules of Headmaster Carlos' Disciplinary Academy For Naughty Little Sluts, Stephanie!" He leaned back in his chair and considered the problem thoughtfully. "I shall have to remedy that right now. You have given me no choice. I have a responsibility as Headmaster and I need to fulfill that duty. To take you…firmly in hand, as it were. Address this lack of discipline problem of yours once and for all."

I took a deep breath and waited.

"Come over here, Stephanie," he crooked his finger and gestured to me.

I shuffled over nervously.

"Pull down your panties to your knees, you little minx."

I did as ordered, feeling the wetness pooling between my legs. Another pair of panties ruined!

"Now climb across my lap." He slapped his thigh. "It's high time I taught you a lesson, you naughty girl."

I felt my tummy hosting a butterfly convention, and lay down exactly as he'd demanded. I could feel his rock-hard cock against my tummy, and my doodah was now making my friend the Wizard's favorite Cream of Stephanie Soup at an astonishingly rapid rate.

His hands settled into place: one rested on the small of my back, anchoring me in place; the other began-ever so slowly-to rub my ass cheeks in a circular motion that had me ready to moan aloud in pure pleasure. The man had magic hands, no doubt about it. After a few moments of the massage, his hand grasped the hem of my miniskirt and lifted it to my waist, positioning it so that my bare bottom was on display.

"Quite lovely," he murmured, "You have a very tempting little ass, Stephanie. Perfectly formed little globes. Ripe. Tight. Absolutely magnificent. I'm going to enjoy disciplining you very much."

Eep!

His hand began that slow circular massage again and the sensual feeling of his hand on my naked skin was absolutely delicious. I closed my eyes focusing on the hardness of his cock as it pressed against my soft tummy, secure in the knowledge that soon I'd have him pumping deeply inside of me. I sighed deeply and happily in anticipation.

"Impatient little vixen, aren't you? We have a very long time to go until we get to that part," he warned me. Damned ESP! "First, we have the parts Headmaster Carlos intends to especially enjoy. Like this one."

WHACK! The slap was sudden and powerful.

"OUCH!" I yelped unhappily. "That hurt!"

"It was intended to," came his unapologetic voice. "You're just damned good and lucky I'm not using the belt on your sweet little ass, Babe."

"You're not?" I let out the long breath I'd seemingly been holding forever.

"You want me to?" He sounded amused.

"No." Hell, no!

"I didn't think so. Damned fucker stung like you wouldn't believe. Six times, Princess. I remember every single one of them."

His hand continued to make circles, rubbing and squeezing my tender skin expertly until he settled on just the right place at just the right moment.

WHACK! The second slap was just as powerful as the first one, but on the other cheek.

"OW!" I aimed the Burg death glare out of the back of my head and hopefully shot it off to register my extreme displeasure.

"Drama queen." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"I said 'no butt stuff'," I reminded him in annoyance.

"And I said 'technically'," he defended himself.

WHACK! Another strong one, back to the first cheek this time.

"I hate this fantasy," I sniped.

"Suck it up, Babe," he chuckled, "You're gonna hate it a lot more before you get to the good part."

"Oh, so there's a good part?" I snorted, "Like when?"

"Don't be a brat while Headmaster Carlos has you over his knee," he advised, "Not smart, Babe."

"I don't like Headmaster Carlos very much, you know."

"Too bad, he's liking you more and more. God, you have the hottest tightest ass I've ever seen, Babe. I swear, I could actually write poetry about your ass."

"You'd have to stop spanking me to do it," I groused.

"Not happening anytime soon, Babe."

WHACK! Another forceful swat, this time to the other side of my rapidly-reddening ass.

Only two more and then it will be over.

"If the number were six, it would be. And yes, you said that out loud too."

"But I only hit you six times," I protested unhappily.

"True, you did," he agreed, his hands massaging me as he searched for just the right spot to place the fifth swat. "But then you used the leather belt on me, remember?"

"Yeah, but you're a guy," I argued, "You can handle pain better than I can. And you're in the Army. You're supposed to be tough. I'm just a wimp."

He laughed softly, "You're one of the strongest women I've ever met, Babe. Nothing about you is wimpy. Not a damned thing."

"That would be a compliment if only your hand wasn't on my ass getting ready to keep spanking me red-raw," I pointed out, "That last part kind of removes the compliment part of it."

"Kinda," he agreed, "And you're nowhere near being red-raw. I'm not spanking you hard enough to do anything but make it sting a bit. And look pretty. Pink and just a bit hot to the touch."

"Hurts," I complained.

"Babe." I swear, I could almost see him rolling his eyes.

"Only six, OK?" I whined shamelessly.

"Maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We could maybe work out a deal."

"A deal?" I was outraged!

WHACK! Number five was just as noisy and stung just as badly.

"What kind of a deal?" I folded quickly.

"I had been thinking of paddling you 15 times," he whispered, "One for every one of those damned imaginary inches you gave good old Professor Raoul."

FIFTEEN?

Omigod!

"But I think I could maybe-just maybe-cut that down just a little bit."

"To six?"

"Six additional."

"Six total."

"That's a lot of cutting, Babe."

"I could make it worth your while."

"I'm listening."

"Remember the tiramisu?"

"That would make me add swats, Babe, not cut them."

"Remember my 'oral skills' though?"

"Vividly."

"I could be even more skillful."

"Maybe."

"Come on, Carlos! Stop spanking me and I'll make you a very happy man. Please?"

"Headmaster Carlos. And just a tiny bit redder, Babe. Until they look like ripe red apples. Then I'm going to take a bite-"

"The hell you are!" I made to stand up, only to be held down firmly. "You're not going to bite my ass, you freaky pervert!"

"Just a little nibble, Babe. You have no idea what you're doing to me."

"I don't get off having teeth marks on my butt," I protested. "I didn't bite you."

"I'd have let you if you wanted to."

"That's because you're a kinky freak, Superman."

"True. But it's your own fault for wearing that skin tight red dress earlier tonight and having such a God-damned tight hot gorgeously sinful ass. You reminded me of red ripe apples…and you know how much I love fruit for dessert."

"No apples. Not this variety, anyway." I was pretty confident now that I wasn't going to get any more swats. Carlos was devoting himself now to rubbing my ass and verbally worshipping my hotness. Plus I knew he wasn't going to do anything I didn't want, now that I'd opened my mouth and let him know I'd had enough. I knew I could trust him, and I did.

His hands were starting to work some pretty serious magic on me, though; and now that the spanking had stopped, I was definitely enjoying the massage part. Particularly when his fingers every so often slid between my legs to stroke my slit.

"You like that part, though," he said, sliding my panties down to my ankles and watching as I carelessly kicked them off and spread my legs further apart for him. "I get the feeling that I could keep this up awhile longer and you'd have no complaints at all."

"I might be able to live with this a bit longer," I admitted, "But no more spanking."

"One more," he bargained, "Six total, right? You had five. One more. Then we're even. I'll forget about Raoul and his 15 inches."

"One more," I sighed, "You're whining, Carlos. You realize that, don't you?"

"It worked, though, didn't it?" I could hear the satisfaction in his voice.

I shifted, rubbing against his hard length. "That feels good," I moaned as his fingers continued to stroke my slit, teasing my pussy until it tingled in anticipation. "Right there!" I demanded. "And rub harder!"

"Babe," he laughed, "Once again you're high-jacking my fantasy."

"It worked, though, didn't it?" I mocked him, enjoying our teasing.

"I love how wet you get for me, Steph."

"Keep rubbing your fingers there and I'll get a lot wetter," I promised happily. "OMIGOD!" I felt his fingers move further down until his index finger settled on my clit, then for the next few minutes he devoted himself to making me a very satisfied woman.

OMIGOD! OMIGOD! OMIGOD! I bucked on his lap and moaned in delight as the last waves of my unexpected orgasm faded. "That was soooo good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Babe." He cupped my cheeks lovingly, one after the other, then removed his hand from the small of my back. "Time to make Headmaster Carlos just as happy."

I climbed off his lap and he opened his legs to allow me to sink to my knees. I licked my lips lasciviously and grinned as he raised one brow and tugged on my pigtails.

"I like these," he whispered, "Nice touch."

"I thought so," I agreed, unsnapping the button to his jeans and slowly unzipping them to unleash his enormous cock. "Well, well, look who's ready to come out and play with me."

"More than ready, Babe. I can't wait to have you-"

My tongue interrupted him as I flicked it over the tip of his length and tasted the pre-cum that signaled just how ready he was for me. "Yummy." I teased, running my tongue slowly along the length of his huge cock, feeling him shiver in excitement as I began to work some magic of my own.

"Oh, Christ!" he moaned, "That feels good, Steph."

"Tastes even better," I whispered as I moistened my lips and leaned in to take as much of him into my mouth as I could. My hands-both of them-circled around his generous girth, and I devoted myself to stroking every inch I couldn't fit into my hungry mouth.

"OHHHH. Yes, Babe! Oh, God! That's so fucking good!"

I removed my mouth from his shaft long enough to demand, "Lift up." He shifted himself in the chair so that I could impatiently tug his jeans down to his ankles. "I want to taste every last inch of you, Carlos!" I pulled the 'tie' off him and tossed it over my shoulder.

He groaned as I resumed my ministrations, taking his huge cock in and out of my eager mouth, deeper and deeper every time, sucking him greedily. I felt him watching me as my head bobbed up and down, keenly focused on my task. He played with my pigtails, twirling them in his fingers as I continued to pleasure him. "Shit, that's sooooo good, Babe!"

I slid my hands up and down his rock-hard cock, my pussy juices flowing as I listened to him wail louder as I quickened the pace. I freed his cock from my mouth just long enough to allow myself the opportunity to use my tongue on his balls; and after tracing them lightly I took each into my mouth in turn and suckled them gently. Then I released them, and blew softly over them before returning to deep throat his cock. He threw his head back in delight and started muttering unintelligible Spanish. Moments later, he began to pull back.

"No more, Babe, I can't hold out another second."

Neither could I! I needed him inside me so much I was ready to scream. I reached over for the condom package and ripped it open, sheathing him as I stood and began to undress. I tossed off my blouse, then stripped off my bra and hurled it carelessly onto the floor. My skirt followed, leaving me clad only in black fishnet thigh-highs and my FMPs. I went to sit up on the desk, only to feel Carlos' hand on my arm.

"Please, Babe, I'm begging you," he said, his eyes glittering feverishly. "Let me have you from the back."

"Carlos," my eyes widened, "I don't-"

"Not in the ass, Babe," he assured me, "Doggie style. Bend over the desk, Steph, please! Let me take you from behind."

I held my breath, then remembered this was, after all, his fantasy-not mine. And I did trust him not to go where I didn't want him. So I nodded and turned, leaning over the desk and spreading my legs as I arched myself in invitation.

"God, I love you, Babe," he breathed, then I felt him adjust my arms so that they folded under my head and acted as a pillow to cradle my face. "I won't hurt you, Steph, I swear."

"I know," I whispered and tried to relax. Doggie style had never been one of my favorite positions. I'd tried it once or twice-Dickie had been relentless-but I'd hated every minute of it. I didn't like being in what I perceived as a subservient position and I missed the intimacy of face to face love-making. For Carlos, though, I was prepared to do whatever made him happy.

I bit my lip, waiting for him to ram inside and start pounding, telling myself to relax and allow myself to surrender to him. He won't hurt me, he won't do what Dickie had tried to do each time…no butt stuff, Carlos knew that. No butt stuff.

"Going in the same door, Babe, just from the back side," he whispered.

I guess I'd spoken my thoughts aloud again. Or that damned ESP was working again.

His hands stroked my shoulders gently, almost massaging them, before moving down slowly and tenderly along the length of my back and skimming my waist before settling on my hips. "So perfect, Babe. Every beautiful inch of you. Utterly perfect." I felt his length stroking between my legs, playing with my slit, teasing it, tantalizing it before finally he ever-so-tenderly slipped the head of his cock into my hot wet pussy.

"Carlos," I moaned, "I love you so much."

"Te amo también, bebé, siempre y por siempre." (I love you, too, Babe, always and forever.)

He pushed in, but only a few inches, before pulling out completely and resuming his stroking against my slit. Then again he slid in, but after a few short inches, again he removed his length and began to rub it against my slit.

"You're driving me crazy," I whimpered.

"I want you just as ready for me as I am for you, Babe."

"I'm more than ready," I whispered, "I'm fucking aching for you!"

"Almost. Not quite there yet, though. But you will be soon," he promised, leaning in and dropping a long path of hot hungry kisses from my shoulder blade down along my back. His hands cupped my ass cheeks and squeezed gently, "God, I can't wait to watch your ass move as I ride you, Babe."

He slid the tip of his cock inside me again, then did as before, holding onto my hips as he slowly and teasingly moved a few inches inside me before starting to pull back out again. This time I was ready for him! Taking him by surprise, I suddenly thrust my ass backwards, impaling myself upon his cock to the hilt. I reached my arms back and my hands clutched at his wrists, locking him into place as I ground my ass into him-delighting in the feel of him as he filled me completely.

"YES!" I screamed and began to undulate, hearing his hoarse cries of pleasure as he surrendered and began pumping inside me, harder and deeper with every stroke. I met him thrust for thrust, pushing back to take him inside me and pulling away as he withdrew. "God, that's just the way I need it! Don't stop!"

"I can't stop," he admitted gutturally, pounding faster as I turned my head to the side and looked over my shoulder to drink in the sight of him. His usually-controlled face was so expressive in that moment that I was mesmerized by its ferocious beauty. His eyes were like black diamonds, glittering with intensity; his mouth hung open as his breath came in rapid pants. "Fuck, Babe! You're so tight! It feels like heaven!"

"Omigod! I'm cuming! I'm cuming!" I held on to his wrists for dear life and my body exploded, as I shook uncontrollably. I had only a brief moment of rest before the next wave of pleasure took hold, and it was even more powerful than the first. My cry was long and loud and I couldn't even begin to form words to warn him of the onslaught of the newest orgasm.

Unable to summon the energy to hold on any longer, my hands freed his wrists and I slid my arms upwards on the desk in the vain attempt to pillow my face. But I never made it there. A third wave of pleasure suddenly wracked my body, this one seemingly never-ending. I pushed down on my hands, arching my back and throwing my head back so I could howl in ecstasy.

Carlos used the opportunity to lean towards me and slide his left forearm under me, reaching across my chest to cup my right breast. He kneaded it expertly, his thumb tormenting my nipple, as his mouth nibbled my earlobe, alternately using his tongue to flick into my ear and his teeth to send more delicious little quivers running through my already-shaking body.

Then his right hand slid down from my hip and he focused on torturing my clit with his thumb and his index finger. He stroked as I bucked underneath him, and his cock now pistoned into me furiously as I bit down on my lips in a desperate attempt to keep from screaming so loud I'd wake the entire 4th floor of the hotel. I went over the rainbow again when he squeezed my clit, and I felt my eyes rolling back into my head.

He timed it perfectly. He used that last swat he'd bargained for, number six-the one I thought he'd forgotten he was entitled to-at exactly the second he felt himself cuming. It sent me spiraling over the edge with him, both of us lost to all reason by now. I'd honestly lost count of how many orgasms I'd enjoyed at this point. I was panting desperately trying to keep oxygen in my lungs, and as we both exploded the last thing I remember was his cry of release…then I saw the white ball of light aiming straight for me…and I knew no more.

CHAPTER 21

"Fucker nailed me again, didn't it?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes as I tried to sit up in bed. "How long was I out for this time?"

Carlos looked at me in confusion, "What nailed you, Babe? You had another one of your-what did you call them? Doomsday Orgasms. I carried you over here to the bed and you were unconscious for just a few minutes."

"Damned ball of fucking white light," I tried to explain, a frown furrowing my brow, "Aims right for me, you know? Right at my head! Whirls around and around," I waved my arms, mimicking the spiral the ball made-and almost batting Carlos in the face. "And then BAM! Huge explosion! I just can't seem to get out of the way of it in time, no matter how hard I try. Then I go down like a ton of bricks."

Clearly he had no clue what I was babbling about. "Never mind any of that. Just relax, Babe," he comforted me, "You just lie back now and focus on getting your strength back, OK? When you feel up to it, I'll carry you into the bathroom to wash up, but for now I just-"

"OH! Did you clean me?" I blinked, seeing the washcloth and the towel and noticing how fresh I felt down South, "That's so sweet of you, Carlos!"

He looked a bit sheepish, "Least I could do, Babe-considering I sort of got carried away there for a bit. Did I hurt you?"

"No," I assured him. "Not at all. It felt good…..except for the spanking part, that is," I added hurriedly. "I don't like butt stuff."

"So you keep reminding me, Babe. Still, I kinda thought you liked that last swat," he teased. "At least a little bit."

"It was OK," I shrugged, carefully avoiding his amused eyes, feeling myself flush as I remembered that delicious sixth whack that had sent me soaring into the second Doomsday Orgasm of my life. Two in one night, yet! "The…other part…was OK, too. Just not the spanking thing."

"Oh, so 'the other part was OK', huh?" he laughed, "That's why you passed out screaming with another Doomsday Orgasm and had to be revived. Not that you enjoyed it, or anything. It was just 'OK'."

"Egotistical bastard," I muttered, narrowing my eyes at him.

"That's me, Babe."

"It was….better than I thought it would be."

"Glad to hear it." He grinned, climbing into bed beside me and pulling me close so that I was nestled in his arms. "Nothing makes a man feel more like a man than hearing his woman say he was 'OK'…and that he was better than she thought he would be."

"You know damned well how incredible you are in the sack," I snorted, "Or on the desk, as the case may be. Your enormous ego doesn't need to be constantly stroked." Then I replayed his words and got a goofy grin on my face. "Omigod! You called me your woman!"

"You are my woman," he squeezed me to him and kissed me tenderly on the nose. "You know it and I know it. No matter what happens, you'll always be my woman, Babe."

"Yeah," I whispered, wrapping my arm around his chest and cuddling closer, desperately forcing out the 'no matter what happens' part of the sentence from my mind. I didn't want to think of that damned tour of duty! I didn't want to hear that he might not be back, that he might….. I couldn't even allow myself to think the word. He wasn't going to die! "I'll always be your woman, Carlos. And you'll always be my man."

"Siempre y por siempre, bebé." He saw my questioning look, and translated, "Always and forever, Babe."

"For me too," I repeated, "Siempre y por siempre, Carlos."

"Can I ask you a question, Babe? A serious question, I mean?"

"Ask me anything."

"When…when I was getting ready to enter you, you froze up and you said, 'no butt stuff'. Even though I'd already told you I wouldn't go there. Did you not trust me?"

He sounded unsure and hurt. I pulled back and looked up at his face, needing him to understand. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have bent over and let you…you know. I just…God, this is hard for me to explain. The thing is, it all goes back to Dickie."

"Your ex-husband?"

"Dick The Prick," I nodded, "He was…relentless, I guess you could say. He wanted to do it that way all the time-"

"Doggie style."

"No! You know! Butt stuff! He wanted to-to do that! And I didn't want to. I just…it doesn't appeal to me. It never was anything I ever wanted to try. So I said no. Over and over I'd say no. I'd explain why. Didn't matter to him. He'd keep bringing it up time after time. Until I finally stopped explaining and just said flat-out no. I shouldn't have to explain-"

"No, you shouldn't," he sighed, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I pointed out reasonably, "It was Dickie's. He didn't care about me or what I wanted or needed or felt comfortable with. It was what he wanted, that's all that mattered to the bastard. Ever. So he'd demand doggie style instead. Which also…well, it just didn't appeal to me. I don't like not seeing the face of the guy I'm…you know."

"Got it."

"To be accommodating, trying to keep the sinking marriage afloat, I finally agreed to do it for him. Whether I wanted to or not. So I let him…." I couldn't keep the anger out of my voice, "And the bastard tried to put it in my ass anyway. He-"

Carlos froze. "He raped you? Anally?"

There was a long pause before I could get the words out. "He almost did. Not once but twice. I pulled away when I realized what he was doing and tried to run out of the bedroom. And he grabbed me and we fought. Then…he hit me."

His voice was dangerously quiet, "He beat you?"

"Not exactly. I got away before that could happen. He hit me once or twice. In the face." I closed my eyes, remembering the horror of it. "He told me I 'belonged' to him, that as my husband, he was 'entitled' to whatever kind of sex he wanted, whenever he wanted it."

"Goddamn son of a bitch."

"And I told him no. I pulled away and locked myself in the bathroom until he finally slammed out of the house. Probably went to Joyce or some other bimbo, although at the time I was too stupid to realize it."

"More likely too traumatized."

"I packed my bag right away and went to my parents' house. I didn't want to be there when he got home-just in case. You know?" I felt the tears falling and brushed them away, hating this part of the story just as much. "My mother opened the door and saw me standing there with my suitcase. I didn't even get to finish the sentence-or tell her why-before she slammed the door in my face."

"She did what?" Carlos sounded incredulous.

"I told her I was leaving Dickie," I whispered, "And she told me that he was my husband; that whatever I'd done to 'offend him' I needed to 'apologize for'..."

"Good Christ, I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"She said that I needed to go back home immediately and stop 'disgracing' my family," I quoted her hurtful words, which I'd pushed to the back of my mind for so long. "That I'd taken vows of obedience before God and that I needed to live up to them. That I was 'lucky' that 'a man as respectable as Dickie Orr' wanted me. And that I needed to 'grow up' and make him the kind of wife he expected me to be. So I went back to him."

"Babe." His voice was low and filled with pain for me.

"I never told my mother what he'd tried to do; obviously whatever it was didn't matter in the least to her. What mattered was keeping my marriage together so that the Burg didn't think she'd raised a daughter who couldn't hold onto a man." I was unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice, even now. "But I told the bastard that if he ever tried it again, I'd kill him. And I moved into the guest room that same night and kept my door locked."

"Proud of you, Babe."

"For what? I told you. I went back to him."

"You had nowhere else to go, did you?"

"No. I had no job, but he'd made me quit my salesgirl job at Macy's when we got married. And Mary Lou-my best friend since grammar school-she was pregnant with her first baby, so I couldn't go sleep on her sofa. And I couldn't afford a lawyer or a place of my own. So I sucked it up and I stayed with Dickie. But I never trusted him again. Even when-"

"When what?"

"A week or two later, when it was clear to him I wasn't going to sleep with him again, he wanted to go see Father McNamara, our parish priest. Dickie wanted us to get counseling. He said he wanted us to save our marriage, that he loved me. And he knew I loved him. That he was sorry he 'upset' me. That I was probably just 'nervous'. Or PMSing. But whatever the reason was, he said, he wanted us to be husband and wife again."

"And you went?"

"Yeah. I went. Stupid me, right? I mean, Dickie knew damned well I wasn't going to tell Father McNamara what the real argument was about. So instead he made up some story about how 'shy' I was about sexual relations. Which Father McNamara thought was just wonderful…what a good Catholic girl I was! He assumed I was…you know…a virgin before Dickie and I got married. Which I wasn't, thanks to Joe Morelli and that whole thing at the Tasty Pastry when I was 16." I laughed hollowly, "Evidently Father McNamara didn't hang out at Mario's Sub Shop, so he didn't get a chance to read the glowing reviews Morelli left for my performance."

Carlos said nothing, but I could feel the anger radiating off his body in waves.

"So…long story short. Father McNamara told me to trust my husband, that God intended the Sacrament of Marriage to provide for a man to introduce a woman into the joys of the flesh for the procreation of our race…yadda, yadda, yadda. Back home we went. Dickie was beaming ear to ear. And I got a call no more than an hour later from my mother wanting to know why I felt the need to 'humiliate' her in front of all her friends and neighbors by admitting to Father McNamara that I was such a failure as a woman that I needed to be told how to be a good wife."

"I don't know what to say to that, Babe." His voice was shell-shocked. "What about your father? Where was he in all this?"

"My father pretty much stays out of things. Always has. He doesn't say very much," I shrugged, "My mother does enough talking for both of them. He didn't know what was going on, though. I didn't tell him about….it. How could I? God knows what my mother told him the problems were between me and Dickie. But he just asked me once-a few days after I'd found Dickie fucking Joyce Barnhardt on my dining room table-whether or not Dickie'd ever made me happy at all in our marriage. I said no. And he held me really close and he said, 'I'm sorry, Pumpkin. I should have done something sooner. Please forgive me.' Then he told me he'd pay for my divorce lawyer and that I could move back home for as long as I wanted to stay. And he told me he'd make certain that my mother didn't keep up the non-stop pressure on me to go back to Dickie."

"Did she? You told me about her buying you cookbooks and cookware and all of that-"

"She tried a few times, but I wasn't in the mood to listen to any of it-I was too angry. And my father stepped in, just as he'd promised me he would, and they had a hell of a row. First and only time I remember them arguing the whole 29 years they've been married. And that was the end of that, no more Dickie Orr pimping. Then I filed for divorce-didn't ask for a dime of alimony, either. I didn't want a damn thing from that bastard; I was just lucky I wasn't pregnant. And then I got a job buying lingerie at EE Martin and saved up some money and finally got my own apartment. And Rex. My hamster."

"The Mighty Beast Protector of Your Planet."

"That's my fella."

"I'm sorry, Babe. I shouldn't have pushed it."

"You didn't push anything," I assured him, "I wouldn't have told you if I didn't want you to know."

"Not that," he said softly, "I meant, pushing for you to let me-"

"Don't you dare," I interrupted, "Do not even try comparing yourself with Dickie."

"You told me more than once you didn't want to do it and I asked again anyway," he insisted, "I pressured you for it when I should have let it drop."

"The hell you did! First of all, you didn't know anything at all about my issues with Dickie and why I didn't want to-let me finish!" I hushed his protest, "It's not the same thing at all! We both agreed to put down our wildest fantasies and the rules were that if either of us didn't want to do what the other suggested, we wouldn't have to. You gave me a few chances to say no to this one. I didn't take any of them, because I didn't want to take them. It kind of…excited me, to tell you the truth. But when you realized I wasn't into the spanking part of it, you stopped it immediately. You did, Carlos. And you didn't hurt me anyway, for crying out loud! You didn't spank me hard, we both know it. It stung a bit for a minute or so; big whoop! I've stubbed my damned toe and hurt more. And you asked me if you could do it from behind and I agreed because I trusted you not to do what he did-and I was right to trust you. And, frankly-OK, I'm gonna admit it-it was much much…much…better than I thought it would be. As witnessed by my spectacular swoon-what did you call it? That French thing?"

"Le Petit Morte. The Little Death."

"My Doomsday Orgasm." I shook my head, "So hey, so much for me suffering greatly because you were being so selfish, right? You asked, I agreed, I'm glad I agreed. Hell, I'd agree the next time too. I'm not going to admit that last part again though."

"You're not?" I saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"OK, so maybe I lied: maybe I will admit it again. Here goes: it won't upset me greatly if you suggest doing it doggie style again." I gave him a soft smile, "The truth is, I can't imagine not enjoying anything we do together, Carlos. I wanted you from the moment I met you. Then we fucked and it was incredible. Then we talked afterwards and it was even more incredible. Then we fucked some more and it got even better. And we talked even more and it got even better than that. Then we made love…and it was the best it ever could possibly get. And every time we're together, it gets even more spectacular. Are you sensing a pattern here?"

"I love you, Babe."

"I love you, too, Superman. So please don't upset me by blaming yourself for doing something wrong. Because you haven't. And you won't. I trust you. For whatever crazy reason, I did from the minute I met you. Hell, you could have been a homicidal maniac for all I knew. And I left the bar with you without telling my friends. That sort of proves I trust you, huh?"

"Proves something," he teased.

"Can we drop this, please? I don't want to waste any more of our time on Dickie Orr or my mother or the Burg or what you think you should have known or done or said…I don't want to waste a minute we have together, Carlos."

"Neither do I, Steph. Every minute I get to spend with you is like gold. More than gold. Platinum. I can't believe how lucky I am to be with you. To have found you tonight of all nights."

We both knew what he was really saying; he still expected to die on that damned mission. I wasn't going to start that discussion again, though. There was no way to win that argument. The best I'd gotten out of him earlier was his agreement to rethink his 'we have no future' mandate. I wasn't going to push it again now for fear he'd repeat his fatalistic statement. That would destroy our remaining time together and accomplish nothing but to make both of us miserable.

So I decided to change the subject instead.

"So what's the kinkiest thing you ever did in bed? Or out?"

"Babe."

"I'm asking because I want to know! Hey! I've been kidding you all night, calling you a kinky freak. I just want to know how kinky a freak you are, Superman," I giggled, rubbing my hand on his chest, pinching his nipple to hardness.

"You've been kidding me all along? Here I thought you were serious."

"Answer the question."

"Kinda hard to top anything we did so far tonight. Particularly me as your dessert bar."

"That's dodging the question."

"You noticed that, huh?"

"I noticed, all right. Clearly you have a lot of experience. Much much more than I do."

"True."

"You've been with a lot of women."

"What's this really about?"

"Is there anything you want…I mean…I want you to…I want…"

"Babe."

"I want to make you happy. If there's anything you want me to do that I'm not doing…anything…you know….anything…."

"You make me beyond happy, Steph. You make me happier than anyone ever has or ever could. Never doubt that. You're sweet and loving and funny and smart and brave. You're beyond gorgeous. Sexy as hell. Imaginative. You're a dynamo in bed. You are this perfect combination of angel and devil; the body of a sinner with the heart and soul of a Saint."

"Saint Stephanie, that's me."

"You've given me everything I ever wanted or hoped for. And not just phenomenal sex, either. You've given me you. All of you, no holding back. No protective barriers. Total honesty. Total acceptance. The whole package, Babe. There is nothing more you can give me than you already have-absolutely nothing. Understand me?"

I nodded, blinking back tears. I knew he was speaking from his soul and I knew it wasn't easy for him to open up to anyone. "I just-"

"No butt stuff," he said primly. Then he looked over at me and we both laughed.

"OK," I breathed easier, "If you're sure about that…"

"And no more spanking," he said. "And no tying you up."

"Good. Suits me fine."

"We could maybe do 'the other thing' again sometime," he mimicked my voice.

"Maybe." I grinned back at him.

"It was OK."

"It was, huh? Just OK?"

"Not great, though, you understand. Just better than I thought it would be."

"Bastard."

He laughed, pulling me closer. "You're fun to tease."

"I'm glad I entertain you," I sniffed, not offended in the least.

"I don't get to laugh very much at all. I'd forgotten how good it feels. Thanks for reminding me, Babe."

"You're welcome." I smiled, happy in the knowledge that I was giving him something no other woman had. After all, he could have met any other woman tonight and been here with her instead of me. She-whoever she was-could be in his arms right now, instead of me…

"I'd have been long gone by now, if I'd been with anyone else," he said softly.

"I said that out loud again?"

"Nah, I can read your face. You're easy to read."

"Gee, thanks." I sighed.

"Only because I'm trained to pay close attention. And because I love looking at you. Memorizing everything I can about you so I can remember every single detail of you-of tonight-forever. Do you know that your eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever seen? Like the Caribbean Ocean on a sunny day. Just as much depth in there, too. They give you away every time." He stroked my hair tenderly and took a deep breath, "I told you when we first met that I'd done this type of thing before. And I have-lots of times. In lots of cities over the years. But not this part of it. Not what we've done tonight. What we've shared. I meant, just picking up a woman for a few hours, spending the time fucking her and then leaving and never looking back. Just physical, that's all. No talking, no joking, no laughing. No cuddling afterwards."

"Really?"

"Really. I wouldn't have asked any questions about her. About her life, her family, her friends. Because it wouldn't have mattered to me. And I wouldn't have shared anything about myself with her, either. Nothing, Babe."

"You wouldn't have played the game with her?"

He smiled, "Hell, no! I made that one up just for you. I wanted to know what got you hot, what you always wanted a man to do….so I could be the man to give you all of it. I wanted you to remember me."

"You're serious?" I couldn't wrap my brain around that.

"I told you before, I spotted you when you went to the bar the first time with your red-headed friend. And I checked out the competition because I wanted you-only you-from that moment on. So I sat at the bar, had another beer and waited for you to come outside again. And I had the most detailed fantasies of what I wanted to do with you when I finally got you alone."

I grinned, "Omigod! You planned them all out when you were sitting there waiting at the bar for me? All of them?"

"Hard to cut them down to only six." He winked, "If you'd have had any difficulty coming up with six of your own, I'd have had plenty more to suggest."

"I like that," I could feel the goofy grin back on my face. "You never played this game with anyone else ever?"

"Never have, never will. Just with my Babe. And before you ask, I've never called any other woman 'Babe' either. I usually stick to 'honey' or 'sweetheart'."

"Why'd you call me Babe?"

"You looked in the mirror lately, Steph?"

"Come on! I'm not a dog, but I'm nothing special. You could have any woman you want."

"Probably," he admitted honestly, "But the point is, from the moment I first saw you, you were the only one I wanted. By far. You got to me, Steph-you blew all the other women right out of the water. That's not a line, either. It's the God's honest truth. No, it wasn't love at first sight. But it was definitely lust at first sight-and some indescribable something more that no other woman had ever made me feel. No, Steph, no other woman would have gotten into my bed tonight. If you hadn't agreed, I'd have still been downstairs working like hell to get you interested in saying yes. And I wouldn't have quit trying until I did."

I bit my lip, hearing the sincerity of his words. "Wow! Who knew?"

He smiled, then kissed my forehead gently. "Who knew, indeed? And trust me, you're worth however long I'd have had to spend to get you here. Hours and hours and hours and hours."

"You know what Dickie said when I told him I wanted a divorce?" I'd never told anyone this, it had hurt too much. And I hadn't been quite sure I didn't believe it-until tonight.

"What did the prick say, Babe?"

"He told me I was a frigid bitch. And that I was a lousy lay. And that to get off when he was fucking me, he had to imagine I was any other woman."

I'd have expected any other reaction from Carlos but the one I got; he laughed out loud! I looked at him in stunned disbelief.

"Babe! You didn't-please tell me you didn't fall for that old chestnut!" He shook his head in amazement, "Steph! You didn't!"

I shrugged. "But-but-"

"If you were frigid why the hell would the bastard want to stay married to you? Hell, for that matter, why would he have wanted to marry you in the first place? Or stay in your bed so desperately that he'd haul you to a priest for counseling because you refused to sleep with him?"

"I don't know why Dickie did anything."

"Because Dickie-shit, I still can't believe a grown man calls himself Dickie-wanted to pay you back for walking out on his pathetic worthless ass. So he blamed you for his shortcomings, and tried to mess with your head so you'd stay with him instead of getting the hell out of a God-awful miserable marriage to a worthless piece of shit who isn't man enough to treat his woman the way she deserves to be treated. You aren't frigid, Babe. Anything but! Even your bakery buddy the poet knew that much. And I'll let you in on another secret: Dickie would kill to have you back in his bed. Any man would-don't doubt that, either. Frigid! Shit! That's the oldest line in the world. I just can't believe you actually fell for it."

"You make me feel so good about myself, Carlos."

"You should feel good, Babe. You're an amazing woman. In every possible way. That you have even a doubt in your mind about that is what's really sad. And for that I blame your mother. I don't want to upset you by insulting her…but I have to say this much: she's just damned good and lucky she isn't around now for me to have a few words with. Wait! She's not going to this wedding thing tomorrow, is she?"

"No."

"Too bad. I'd have loved to stop in and have a little chat with her about insulting my woman."

"That's sweet. But she means well."

"No, actually, Steph, she doesn't. She's been undermining your self-confidence for years, and you've been sucking it up and letting her. Doubting yourself. Fighting a battle to stay true to yourself despite her…you wouldn't even have married the bastard if she hadn't pushed it. Isn't that true?"

I sighed. "Yeah. But that wasn't her fault, it was mine."

"It partly was. You need to learn to tell her to stay the hell out of your life. Don't let her pressure you or guilt trip you into settling for anything less than what you want. You. Not your mother. It's your life, Babe. Life's too damned short to live it according to someone else's rules. I learned that the hard way."

"Now there's a story I want to hear."

Carlos sighed. "Let's just say that your mother and my father would get along very well."

"Tell me? Please?"

"Babe."

"I'm a good listener."

"I know you are." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I told you I have an older brother Alejandro. Three years older than me. And he's the apple of my father's eye. Always was, always will be. Alex can do no wrong. Not ever. He's perfect in every way there is."

"Like Valerie." I started tracing circles on his chest, completely wrapped up in his story.

"Yeah, Babe. Like your sister. Believe me, I understand exactly how you feel. I'm second generation Cuban-American. My father was, essentially, an only child; his older brother was sickly and died at age three. His parents came over from Cuba when Castro took power. My grandfather started his own small business here, and my father was trained to follow in his footsteps. And when Alex and I came along, we were expected to step in and do the same. Do our duty. Make the family proud. Same with my sisters to some extent, but they were female. They'd grow up and marry, they wouldn't carry on the family name. So they didn't get the kind of pressure Alex and I did. From the time we were in grammar school, it was drilled into us what we were meant to do with our lives. What our future was going to be. Alex was fine with that; I wasn't. I hated the thought of it and I wasn't shy about saying so. I didn't want that kind of life-too boring, too predictable. I wanted to be Superman and save the world. So I rebelled. God, did I ever! I told you I got into every kind of trouble you could think of. Well, I wasn't exaggerating, Babe. You name it, I did it. Got into a gang, almost got killed in a knife fight one evening. Ended up in Juvie hall. My grandfather disowned me over that little episode; my father told me I was a disgrace to his name and kicked me out of the house for good. For the longest time the only ones who even spoke to me were my mother and my grandmother. Even my four sisters were totally disgusted by my conduct. Looking back now, I can't really say that I blame them."

"Carlos!" I saw the pain in his eyes and he continued his story, lost in the past.

"After that, I went to live with my mother's sister and her family. By some miracle, I avoided going to jail-or getting myself killed. Then one of my closest friends died in a drive-by shooting, and I decided to get out of that gang life before I died too. So I pulled myself together, dropped out of school and joined the Army. I needed the discipline; I wanted the adventure. So it worked out well on both counts. I loved it, Steph. I felt like I belonged there. And I was good-I am good-at my job."

"I know you are," I had no doubts about that at all. Carlos was a strong man, a born leader.

"I got training, I got to travel, to see the world. I made friends and they saw the me I always wanted to be-Superman. They accepted me as I was. I felt like I had a purpose in life. I was doing what I wanted to do and I didn't have to compromise my dreams to do it."

"What about your family? Are you still..?" I didn't quite know how to ask the question without opening up old wounds.

"I was on leave visiting friends when I got a phone call from my mother. My grandfather had died of a heart attack on the job; he and I had never spoken again after he'd disowned me."

"I'm so sorry!" I hugged him closely, blinking back tears.

"Don't be, Babe. It was his choice, that's how he grew up: Old World. After all, I'd shamed his family in front of all of his friends and neighbors. Anyway, my grandmother told her son that enough damage had been done. Enough years had been wasted. She demanded he lift my banishment. She ordered me home for my grandfather's funeral and I came. That time in the Army had changed me. In my father's eyes, that was a good thing. In my eyes, it was too, because I honestly didn't care whether or not he was willing to accept me. I knew who I was and what I was and what I wanted. And I knew I'd done the right thing to walk away from the life he'd wanted to push me into. Alex seemed happy; I'd have been completely miserable. I'd have been as good as dead in that kind of job. Anyway, we started the healing that day. Slowly. Very slowly. Four years ago, and we've come a long way since then. Alex and I finally started talking, and we worked out a lot of issues that had stood between us from the time we were children. Old resentments-on both sides."

"What was his problem with you?" I glared. "He had it good!"

"Not as much as I'd thought, Babe," Carlos said softly. "Turns out, when he finally opened up, he wasn't all that fine with things, after all. He liked the business, he could live that way. But it wasn't how he would have preferred to live. He just didn't want to anger my father and my grandfather. To disappoint them by turning his back on what they'd spent their lives building. I realized that I'd resented him for being the Golden Child, when in actuality, it was more of a curse than a blessing for him."

"He didn't have to do what he did; he could have stood up to them, like you did," I argued.

"He could have," Carlos agreed. "And there would have been even more damage done to the family than was already done by my walking away. He did what he thought best. I did what I thought I needed to. We both made choices; hopefully they were the best choices for each of us. I guess we'll never know for sure until the last card is dealt. He's got a good woman and three healthy happy kids. And I-"

He trailed off. I knew what he was thinking. He didn't have a family of his own; he never would. He would go to war again come Monday and he'd die for his country.

"It doesn't have to be that way," I whispered. "You don't know what the future holds, Carlos. No one does."

There was a long silence, and he held me closer and ran his fingers gently up and down my arm.

"I love you, Babe."

"I love you, too."

"So…."

"So?"

"So, what are we going to do about it?" he asked softly, more to himself than to me.

That was the real question, wasn't it? What the hell were we going to do?

Damned if I knew…

CHAPTER 22

Carlos' POV

"So what are we going to do about it?" I mused, deep in thought. I sure as hell knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to spend the next 50 or so years with Stephanie, every last breath of every last moment God gave us both on this Earth. I wanted to make her my wife. I wanted to make babies with her. I wanted to wake up every morning and look forward to another day of loving her and to climb into bed every night and spend hours doing nothing but worshipping her for the Goddess she is. I wanted to do anything and everything in my power to make her happy, to support and encourage her to fulfill her dreams, to stand by smiling in pride when she finally realized she really was Wonder Woman, after all.

I wanted to put my ring on her finger and my baby in her belly. Right now; tonight. I wanted to give her my name, as I'd already given her my body and my heart and my soul. I wanted to stand on the highest rooftop and shout out my eternal love for Stephanie. To stake a claim on her in front of the entire world. That's what I wanted to do. But I couldn't. Not at this point in my life.

No, it wouldn't be fair to Stephanie to tie her down to me legally when I was about to disappear from her life for the next year and a half, at the bare minimum-if not longer. It wasn't as if I could tell her where I was going, either. Nor could I contact her in any way once my mission began on Monday. I couldn't give her any peace of mind at all while I was in the wind. None of that was possible: I was Delta Force.

Delta Force is the U.S.'s most elite tactical combat force, trained to the highest level in the military, with cutting-edge weaponry. Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta may share a headquarters in Fort Bragg, NC with the Army Special Forces, but we're light years away from the traditional Army. For starters, we have no uniform: we wear civilian clothes. We refer to ourselves as 'operatives', not 'soldiers'. Our members are recruited from all branches of the military then expertly trained as professional assassins and mercenaries.

We handle the most covert ops, the most dangerous missions, working as needed for the Army, the CIA and the FBI. We operate on the very fringes of all laws that govern the military. Funded from secret government accounts outside of any public scrutiny, we're answerable only to the President himself. Hell, Delta Force is so secret that we don't even formally exist! It's true. Since our inception in 1977, neither the government nor its military have ever officially acknowledged Delta Force in any written reports; they probably never will.

I'd told Stephanie I was in the Army, but only because there was no way I could explain to her what I really did in Delta Force. Still, she was smart. She'd noticed that I wore no uniform and that my hair was longer than the military standard. She probably had her suspicions what that meant. But she'd dropped the subject instantly when I asked, and for that I was more than grateful. I didn't want to evade her questions; I didn't want to lie to her. But there was no way I could talk about my job with her. I didn't even discuss it with my family, although over the years they'd realized the truth to varying degrees.

But it's a lot to drop on a woman on Friday night, marry her, and then disappear on Monday morning with no guarantee when or if you'll ever return. I couldn't do that to Stephanie, no matter how strong she is or how confident I am that we love each other deeply. It would be selfish. And she deserved better from me. So marriage was out of the question, no matter how much I wanted to offer it to her.

And I couldn't put an engagement ring on her finger and then leave her to face her family and friends alone. They-particularly her loud-mouthed shrew of a mother-would no doubt descend upon her like a swarm of angry locusts and demand to know how she could commit to marry a man she'd just met. A man she'd never dated or introduced to them. A man she'd never spent any time with outside of a hotel room, on what she'd probably end up confessing had started as a one night stand. Her reputation would be shot to hell then, courtesy of the gossip-mongers of the Burg.

She'd have to answer questions for which she could have no possible answers: what I did, where I was, when I was returning. She would have no answers to the most basic questions about who I was-other than what I'd told her-or who my family was. She'd never have met any of them, either. Hell, if it were my family member or friend in that position, I'd have tried to talk sense into them too! Stephanie didn't need more pressure put upon her, thanks to me; she already had far too much of that already. So an engagement was not an option, either.

And, reasonably, I shouldn't even let her offer any commitment at all to me right now. She was just coming out of a disastrous relationship, had been soured on men thanks to her prick of an ex-husband, and her self-confidence was at an all-time low. She'd just gotten her final divorce papers yesterday, she'd told me. She ought not to be making major decisions in her life at this time. Instead, she should be taking the opportunity to date in order to decide if she could foresee a future with another man who could offer her a more stable life than I ever could. It wouldn't be fair of me to keep her from doing that.

Her ex-husband. Damn! The thought of the hell that bastard Dickie Orr had put her through made me wish I had more time before I had to ship out. I'd have dearly loved to pay that piece of shit a personal visit and tear him apart limb by limb for laying hands on Stephanie. All of the emotional abuse he'd put her through was bad enough; but the story she'd told me about his attempt to anally rape her-and actually hitting her-that had angered me so much that I knew I couldn't let that slide. And I wouldn't.

I had some Army buddies who would be more than happy to do a favor for me: to introduce Dickie Orr to the concept of Payback, Carlos Mañoso-style. Richard Orr, an attorney in Chambersburg. It had been a high profile divorce, she'd told me. He'd be easy to find, all right. I'd be seeing Miguel and Antonio and a few others tomorrow for breakfast. I knew they'd be more than eager to hunt the bastard down and make certain he was taught a lesson he'd never forget on how a woman should be treated.

As for Stephanie's mother….I wanted to track that bitch down, too, and rip her a new one for what she'd done to my Babe over the years. And what she hadn't done! If Stephanie hadn't been such a strong woman at the core, she'd have been totally destroyed by now by her mother's attempts to force her into life as a Burg Stepford wife. Living a miserable existence as Dickie Orr's punching bag-or worse. No longer even fighting back as he took what he wanted repeatedly. I remembered her words: "He wanted to do it that way all the time-" To think a mother would actually slam the door in her daughter's face when she came to her for help…would see everything from her own selfish narrow-minded perspective. I swore under my breath. Damn good thing the bitch wasn't coming to this wedding, because I'd have made it my business to guarantee that she'd hear what I had to say about her behavior as the Mother From Hell.

But that was the whole problem: I wasn't going to be here after Monday. Not for 18 months, minimum-and that was if all went well. Which was expecting a miracle-and I'd been granted enough personal miracles over the course of my military career to last me ten lifetimes. I'd told Stephanie about the probability of 90% mortality in this up-coming mission. What I hadn't told her was why I was so firmly convinced that I would be in that 90% this time.

My last mission in Iraq had ended in a horrific bloodbath. Most of my Delta Force team had died in front of my eyes when things were FUBAR'd by bad Intel and even worse luck. We'd stormed an enemy compound that, it turned out, was anything but unprepared for our arrival. Instead of being weakened by casualties, low on ammunition, and taken by surprise by our supposedly-overwhelming manpower, they'd instead been newly fortified by fresh highly-skilled troops with replenished top of the line supplies…and they'd massacred us.

I'd lost three of the closest buddies I had that day: the last of the guys I'd started Delta Force with on day one. We were closer than friends, we were brothers. And they were all gone. Almost 95% of our team hadn't made it out of there alive. The handful who did-myself included-survived only because we were literally standing in the right place at the right time. We were blocked from enemy sight by a concrete pillar that withstood the final barrage of bullets, affording us the opportunity to escape with our lives. We'd been able to cheat death by mere seconds. And you don't get that kind of luck more than once. Not even if you're Superman. That mission had been listed with a probability of 75% mortality. Not 90%. Not 90%….

"Carlos! Carlos! Where are you?"

I heard her voice and followed it out of the dark place and back into the light. I saw her worried blue eyes watching me intently and she breathed a sigh of relief when I pulled her close and brushed my lips on her forehead. "I'm here, Babe."

"You were so deep in thought there that I thought I'd lost you. Your eyes, Carlos…there was so much pain in them…"

"I'm back now, though. Back with you, Babe."

"You were there, though, on one of your missions. Weren't you? A bad one."

"There're all bad, Babe. All of them."

"Some are worse than others, right? And where you were this time was one of the worst ever. Really really bad."

"Yeah, really really bad. But I made the choice years ago. That's what I do. Who I am."

"It's what you do, Carlos, but it's not who you are. This, right now, with me...this is who you really are. Deep down inside in your soul. This man I'm holding right now, this is Carlos."

She was right. I sighed, "I'd almost forgotten who he was, Steph. It's been so damned long…"

"Do you want to talk about any of it?"

"I can't. Not about the mission. Any of them. Not the last one. Or the one to come. I shouldn't even have told you about the odds. I shouldn't have mentioned any of it."

"Top secret, I know. I understand, Carlos. I'm not going to press you anymore. I'm not going to whine or complain or bitch. I don't want to make it rougher on you than it already is."

"You haven't done any of that. No whining, no complaining, no bitching-"

"I was a total and complete bitch in the bathroom, haranguing you like a fishwife. I started a stupid fight with you for no real reason at all. Remember? Just because you wouldn't give me an orgasm when I wanted one. How selfish is that? How ridiculous? You're facing death-literally-and I'm whining because I didn't get laid fast enough-"

"You think I didn't realize why that whole scene happened? You just had a nuclear bomb dropped on you minutes earlier. I pulled no punches with you. I was brutal about the reality of it all. I gave you no hope for us at all. None. You were still reeling, you were hurting like you never had before, you were on the edge-and you snapped. You're human. That happens, Babe. I understand exactly why you started that fight. What really caused it. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"But I failed you. I hate that! I hate being weak and not being there for you when you need me the most. No wonder you won't give me a chance to-"

"Failed me?" I was stunned. "Babe? This isn't a test! I'm not grading you or sitting in judgment on how you handle things and using that as an excuse not to be with you when this damned nightmare is over! And you didn't fail me, Babe. Quite the opposite, in fact. If it were a test, you'd have passed with flying colors! You stood up to me when I was shutting down and pushing you away. You showed me how strong a woman you really are. The strongest I've ever met. The strongest I'll ever meet. You proved to me how much you love me-really love me. How brave you are."

"I do love you, Carlos. But I'm not brave at all-"

"You are, Babe. More than you can possibly imagine. Any other woman would have gone to pieces over this. Run like hell and never looked back. But not you. You stayed strong and you fought back-and you got through to me with common sense when no one else could have. If I come through this, it's because of you. And only because of you. Know that, Babe."

"When you come through this. When, Carlos. Not if. When. Because you will. You have to believe that. You have to think that way, to tell yourself that over and over-you have to!" Her voice was firm, her expression beyond intense.

She was right, and I knew it. I had to have hope for the future-or I was already dead.

"When I come through this, Babe." I looked at her, her love for me and trust in me shining in her beautiful blue eyes-and I finally couldn't help but admit what was in my heart. I was tired of fighting the truth. "When this is over…I want a life with you, Babe! I want a future with us, and our kids, and grandkids one day, and everything I never thought I could have. Christ, I want it so bad! I want it more than I've ever wanted anything in my life."

And I did-I knew it deep in my soul and I wanted my Babe to know it, too. To have no doubts at all how much she meant to me. How much I loved her and wanted her always. Damn it all! Whatever it took, I wanted to come home to Stephanie. Whatever it took…

She smiled then, a smile like I'd never seen before. It actually lit her up from deep inside. "You're saying yes to us? Really, Carlos?" She sounded almost dazed. Incredulous.

I realized then that, in the end, she'd never really expected me to choose a future with her! She had offered it to me, had wanted me to take it, had hoped and prayed that I would. But she'd been prepared for me to walk away from her forever on Monday-and yet she'd stayed with me, regardless. Giving me all of herself. No holding back, no strings attached. Why? Because she loved me. No matter how painful it would be for her if I chose to leave her forever, she loved me enough to take that chance. How could I possibly love her any less than that? Risk any less? I couldn't. After all, I'm Superman!

I took a deep breath and made a solemn vow to both of us. "I'm saying more than yes, Babe. I'm giving you my word of honor. I will fight like hell to get back to you, Steph. I will crawl back on my hands and knees, I will drag myself back with my last breath if I have to. Whatever it takes. I will not give up, no matter what happens over there. No matter what they throw at me. Somehow, someway, I will come back to you, Steph. I promise you that, Babe."

She was openly sobbing now, but her smile was absolutely radiant. It was all she'd ever asked for me to do, to be honest with myself and admit what I really wanted and say so. To overcome my fear. To claim our future. She'd been right to call me on it. She deserved no less. We deserved no less.

"It's going to be a long wait, though. 18 months at least. You can't sit around and count the days and put your life on hold until I walk back in the door and take you in my arms again. You can't do that, Babe. You have to make me that promise, Steph, or this thing with us won't work. I can't feel like I'm robbing you of the chance to live your life because you're waiting around for me to come back. That isn't fair to either of us. You need to give me your word."

"I promise. I don't have a choice, do I? I have to go on without you, I can't lock myself in my apartment with Rex for the next year and a half. I need to go to work. I have friends. I have my family. I'll live my life," she whispered, "But what I won't do-what I won't promise-is to go out with other men. To get involved with someone else. I don't want anyone but you, Carlos. So I'm going to wait…you know…"

"I can't ask that of you, Babe. It's not fair."

"You're not asking. I'm telling you, this is my life and that's how I plan to live it. I have that right. I don't want another man. I want you. Only you. So we better make this weekend really count, because it's gonna be a long time before I…"

"Before we-"

"I'm not asking you to be faithful to me, Carlos. I don't expect that of you. It's different for men than it is for women. It just is."

"Not always, Babe. I don't want anyone but you, either. After what we've shared, there's no other woman who can come anywhere close to satisfying me anymore. That's just the way it is. I did the one night stand thing for years, and it's out of my system now. Completely. I can wait for what I want. And I want you, only you. And you can't tell me what to do about that any more than I can tell you what to do with your life."

"I'm not going to argue with that," she kissed me softly, "I don't want you with any other woman. But if you were-"

"I'm not going to be. Besides, where I'm going, trust me, there aren't going to be any opportunities I want to take. But you, that's a different story. You're young, you're beautiful, you're going to have so many opportunities and you're going to have needs, Babe-"

"Not happening, Carlos. It's just not. As for my needs…Monday afternoon as soon as I get home, I'm going straight to Pleasure Treasures and stocking up on their top of the line vibrator. All the bells and whistles. And that's the only sexual relationship I plan on having for the next 18 months or so. Unless I burn out the motor, in which case, I'll dump his ass and get a new one. I'm naming him the Wizard, by the way."

"Oh, you are, huh?" I laughed out loud, enjoying the wicked sparkle in her eyes.

"After this really amazing hunk who proved to me that a Doomsday Orgasm is not a myth. He sent me so far over the rainbow that I'll never be able to keep my feet on the ground again. He taught me how to fly."

"You already knew how to fly, Wonder Woman," I said softly, "The Wizard only reminded you of that."

"And I'm never going to forget it again, I promise you that."

"You can do anything you want with your life, Stephanie. Anything. No boundaries. No limits. You have the power inside you, you've always had it. You always will. Never settle for anything less than your dreams. Yours, Babe. Not your mother's. Not your sister's. Not the Burg's. Be who you are, as strong and as brave and as smart and sexy and magnificent as you truly are. No compromises. No surrender. That's all I want you to promise me, Steph. Fight as hard for yourself as you're willing to fight for me. Dream big. Take the world by storm. Be Wonder Woman. Promise to do that, and I'll promise to come back to you, however long it takes. Do you promise me all that, Babe?"

"I do, Carlos. I promise. And in return, I want you to promise to always remember this moment right now. When we're lying in each other's arms, closer to each other than we've ever been to anyone in our lives, ever. When we're happier than we've ever been-or ever dreamed it was possible to be. With hours and hours of pleasure greater than we've ever known behind us, Superman; with many more hours still to come. When we trust each other totally and we're completely open and honest and speaking from deep in our hearts. When we know who we really are and what we really want. When we're willing to take the chance and wait for it, and not settle for anything less. When you're there in that dark place, when it looks like you aren't going to make it home and you're tempted to give up, I want you to take a deep breath, and remember us at this very second. And remember that I love you, Carlos, and I always will. That I'm waiting for you. And I need you back with me. Remember that deep inside you're Superman-and you can find a way out of whatever it is, however bad things are. You keep fighting, and you keep the faith that we will have it all someday. Everything we want, we can have together. All of it. Believe it, Carlos. And then you come back to me, whatever it takes. Do you promise me that, Carlos?"

"I do, Stephanie. I promise. Lo que toma, prometo que volveré a ti, bebé." (Whatever it takes, I promise I will come back to you, Babe.)

"I love you, Carlos. And I'm so proud to be your woman."

"And I love you, Stephanie. And I'm even prouder to be your man."

We kissed slow and deep and we made it last. Even though there was nothing legal about it, in my heart I married my Babe in that moment, with those words, with those promises. I knew from her face that she felt the same way. It was more than enough-it was everything. We were now one forever, from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish. Forsaking all others. Till death us do part.

As we broke the kiss, Stephanie sighed happily. Then her eyes widened. And she suddenly groaned.

"What is it, Babe? What's wrong?" I ran my finger over her cheek and watched her flush.

"I bet I look God-awful now, don't I? My nose is probably all red and my eyes are too. And my damned hair probably looks-," she felt it and swore softly, "Shit, I forgot! I still have it in these idiotic pig-tails! I look like a clown, Carlos!"

"You look gorgeous, Babe. More beautiful than you can ever imagine."

"You haven't lied to me before-don't start now," she teased, sniffling. She climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. "God, I'm afraid to look in the mirror."

"I'm not lying, Babe." And I wasn't. There's not a woman on Earth who'd have looked better to me than Steph. Not then, not ever. "Hurry back to bed, and I'm more than willing to prove it."

Steph appeared at the door of the bathroom, her hair now flowing loose around her shoulders, naked and unashamed. She was getting more and more comfortable with her naked body as the night went on. She knew I loved to look at her, and so she struck a provocative pose. "Ta-dah! All yours, Superman! What'cha have in mind?"

I gave her a big wolf grin. "Grab the bucket and bring it and you over here, and we'll find out. It's my turn to draw the next one. And I'm in the mood to do some serious Ruination, Babe."

"That sounds very promising. I'm in the mood to be seriously Ruined."

I pulled the folded paper out and slowly opened it. I read it several times and said nothing.

Steph watched curiously. "Well? Is it yours or mine? And is it a go? Or a no-go?"

"It's yours, Babe. I'm just trying to figure out what you expect me to do…."

"Um? Gee? Is it all that hard to understand?" she rolled her eyes, reaching for the paper. "How much of a mystery can it be? What have we been doing all night, Superman? Playing Monopoly? I want you to-"

She read the paper and flushed. "Well, OK, so I admit, I was a little too vague with this one."

"You think so?" I raised my eyebrow questioningly. "Four words, Steph! Two of them being 'fuck me'."

Steph giggled, "This was the first one I wrote, actually. Before I got into the swim of things, as it were. I didn't make up any back story for this one-I just gave general directions. You can feel free to offer any additions or modifications you deem necessary along the way."

"Oh, so you mean I get to high-jack your fantasy this time?" I teased.

"Within reason," she decided. "After all, you were just telling me how many different ideas you had and how you had a rough time weeding them down to just six. Wasn't that you telling me if I needed any help coming up with fantasies, you'd be more than willing to offer suggestions?"

"It sure was, Babe. I've got tons of suggestions." And I did. My mind was rapidly considering all possibilities…and my cock was very interested in learning the final outcome of my decision.

"OK….then surprise me! I'm putting myself in your very capable hands, Superman. I'll even let you pick out my costume. How's that work for ya?"

It worked very well. Very well indeed. "Pick a dress you don't particularly like," I instructed her as I climbed out of bed and reached for my jeans.

"One I don't particularly like?" Steph looked at me in confusion. "I don't get it? Why would I do that?"

"Because I plan to rip it off you right before I fuck the hell out of you." I gave her a wicked smile. "And when I finish, there won't be a damned thing you can do to save it, Babe. Guaranteed."

"Oh boy," she grinned, "I think you've got the spirit of this one, for sure."

I looked down at the paper, grinning in anticipation.

Steph had written simply: "Fuck me Caveman style."

I was more than willing to oblige….

CHAPTER 23

Stephanie's POV

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror one last time, readying myself for my grand entrance as Tribal Princess Babe, the Virginal daughter of a Tribal Chief defeated in battle by the ferocious Chieftain Carlos of the Big Club Clan. Very Big Club Clan-the 11 inch Club Clan, to be exact.

Carlos and I had worked out a happy compromise on my official title. I'd demanded to be a Princess, whether or not Cavemen had them or not, and he'd finally agreed-once I'd suggested that name for his Clan. And provided glowing praise for how skillfully he used his very Big Club in action!

Once he'd discovered that I owned a baby doll nightie-with matching thong panties-in an animal print, Carlos had immediately scrapped his original plan for the fantasy. Instead of a dress, I was now scheduled to have said nightie ripped off my terrified virginal body before being taken primitively by the lustful Chieftain. I had no complaints whatsoever. I didn't care what the hell he tore off me, so long as I got a few Carlos-induced orgasms out of the deal!

There were apparently many types of Caveman-style sex available in his expansive and creative repertoire, in all historical time-periods from 10,000 B.C. to 2525 A.D. All of them seemed to have one thing in common, though: they all required me to play a terrified Virgin. 'Chieftain Carlos and his prisoner Tribal Princess Babe the Virgin' may have replaced 'Pirate Captain Carlos pillaging the Royal Navy's ship and capturing the Governor's Virginal daughter Stephanie', but I was still keeping my virginity in the fantasy-albeit temporarily.

Clearly the whole terrified Virgin thing turned him on mightily-although I suspected that once said Virgin got a look at the enormous 11 inch club Chieftain Carlos possessed, she was rapidly going to morph from terrified Tribal Princess Virgin Babe into Tribal Princess Nympho Slut Babe in about 1.1 nano-seconds. My input on the Virgin aspect of things, however, was over-ruled by my kinky lover, who had indeed high-jacked my fantasy with a gusto!

He was grinning wickedly as he detailed my back story for me, and I have to admit, I was more than looking forward to it! I assumed he'd be wearing the usual towel; somehow jeans just wouldn't cut it for a Chieftain. But I had every confidence that he'd be losing his costume just as quickly as I lost mine. Tribal Princess Babe, virgin though she might be, was-unknown to Chieftain Carlos-fabled in her village for her quick hands!

Thanks to some very creative use of my eye pencils, I'd managed to draw some tribal markings on my face in various colors and designs. Yes, I have to admit-I looked pretty damned good as a Tribal Princess! Of course, I don't know of any Tribal Princesses who wore 4-inch black stiletto heels-but Carlos was adamant. Tribal Princess Babe was wearing those FMPs, and that was that. What can I say? The man apparently had a shoe fetish as great as my own….it boded well for our future together. I certainly wasn't going to have to fight him over closet space for my huge shoe collection!

At the thought of sharing a future with Carlos, my face broke into a goofy grin. I still couldn't believe he'd changed his mind so quickly and so determinedly. He'd given me far more than I ever could have hoped for. Not only had he admitted that he wanted me in his life after Monday, he'd gone above and beyond that; swearing a solemn vow that, no matter what it took, he would find a way to come back to me! I knew it had been a huge step for him to take-and I'd been walking on air since the minute he'd said those words. Then we'd made heart-felt promises to each other that made me tear up every time I thought of them. To me, they were just as binding as wedding vows; I knew he felt the same way. In our hearts, we were now man and wife in every way that mattered.

Additionally, he'd finally come to the realization that he needed to make a serious attitude adjustment before he left on his mission Monday. He had to firmly lock into his head that he would survive: to never doubt it for even a minute. Positive thinking was the key, I was certain. I knew damned well that if he didn't believe he would live, he'd fulfill his own prophecy and die on that mission…and I couldn't bear to lose Carlos. I loved him too much!

And he was waiting for me now! Why was I still standing here?

"Ready or not, here I come," I told my reflection, fluffing my hair. Then, taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the next room. And almost fainted dead away.

Holy Moly Mother of God! The man had gone full out with this fantasy costume! Apparently Chieftains of the Big Club Clan didn't wear towels as loincloths. Nope. Gone was the now-familiar costume of the Wonderful Wizard of Ahhhs. Instead, Carlos sported a loincloth that had been fashioned from fabric.

Fabric? Where on Earth had that come from? It looked very familiar, somehow! I blinked, deep in thought-then the answer suddenly struck me. Oh shit! He'd torn up one of the pillow cases, and now wore it tied loosely around his waist!

Well, it had been loose, anyway. Once he saw me in my little barely-there leopard print nightie-the miniscule thong visible underneath diaphanous chiffon-that loin cloth of his wasn't fitting quite so loosely anymore. I could definitely see the Big Club starting to rear its more-than-impressive head…

Geez Louise! The maid was going to have a field day with this! Gooey dessert-covered sheets stripped off the bed. Tons of used XXL condoms in the bathroom trash. A ripped-to-shreds pillowcase. A bed that looked like a cyclone had hit it-repeatedly. God only knows what other damage we'd do before we finally finished our creative and totally incendiary sexual marathon! Guaranteed: the kinky slut in room 407 and her mysterious well-hung boyfriend would be the major topic of conversation among the maids later today! I wasn't ever going to be able to stay here at this hotel again. I'd be too afraid my name would be on the 'gotta get a look at this freak' list I'm sure all hotel maids keep somewhere.

And it was a damned good thing this wasn't a hotel anywhere near the Burg, or otherwise my mother would definitely have gotten a phone call with all of the sordid details of tonight's XXX-rated encounter in mere hours. Then I'd be cut off from dessert for life! 18 months of no Carlos…with no sugar-laden desserts to distract me, or keep my rampant Hungarian hormones under control! I'd never make it through that drought! Never!

I saw my lover's hungry eyes slowly slide over my body and allowed my own eyes similar license to examine him in explicit detail. Damn, he was one absolutely magnificent hunk of man! And he was all mine. Not just for one night, not just for the weekend…but for the rest of our lives! Once that damned mission was over and he came back to my arms, that is. I pushed firmly out of my mind the unpleasant thought that there would be other missions on other days-Stephanie Plum was not only Tribal Princess Babe, she could be Queen of De-Nial, too! Besides, I could only worry about one thing at a time. And this mission was all I could deal with right now!

It would be 18 of the longest months of my life, but it would all be worth it in the end. I, Stephanie Plum-who demanded immediate gratification in all things-was going to be forced, in one of the supreme ironies of the Universe, to finally learn the difficult lesson that all good things are worth waiting for! And I'd learn it, all right. Because he was. We were. And I'd wait however long it took to have Carlos back in my arms where he belonged.

He stalked toward me like a panther that'd scented his prey, a feral gleam in his now-almost-obsidian eyes. I licked my lips in nervous excitement and waited for my cue to speak. Playing my role, I lowered my gaze shyly and looked as virginal as possible…and instead found myself staring fixedly at the rapidly-rising tent in his loin cloth.

Oops! Virgins aren't supposed to drool lustfully at 11 inch big clubs! I tried another approach. Widening my eyes in terror, I clutched my arms protectively over my breasts and my doodah. That seemed to me much more appropriate virginal behavior than eagerly ogling the ever-increasing angle of that rapidly-rising 11 inch big club….

"Me Carlos," he grunted, beating his muscular mocha latte colored chest with a firm fist.

"Me Babe," I whispered timidly, tapping myself with a slender finger, and then backing away until I was trapped against the wall.

"Babe all MINE," he growled, his low husky voice sounding like pure liquid sex. "Babe is Carlos' woman, his mate."

Oh boy, was I ever! Mating sounded more than fine right now, naked sweaty hot primitive totally incendiary mating. Sign this Tribal Princess up for that, for damned sure!

I licked my lips in anticipation of what I knew was about to happen, allowed myself to peek one more time at the umm…Club...and then went back to my role-playing. "Babe scared," I batted my eyes helplessly, "Carlos ferocious!"

"Carlos muy feroz," he agreed proudly. "Muy macho."

OK, so apparently he was a Cuban caveman! That worked out just fine for me. I thought Carlos sounded hot as hell when he spoke Spanish. I was definitely going to enjoy the audio as well as the video on this one!

"Babe a virgin," I said. "Never had man….ever." I looked as fearful as I could possibly manage, given that I was ready to rip the damned loincloth off and fuck his brains out right then and there. I told you the terrified Virgin thing was a big stretch for me acting wise, didn't I?

He nodded. "Carlos fuck Babe real good," he promised, leering at me wickedly. "Carlos pound Babe hard. Make her scream loud." He smacked his fist noisily against his palm a few times to demonstrate his proposed technique.

Eep! What the hell was a Virginal Tribal Princess expected to say to that? Flustered, I gave it the old college try, as Carlos just smirked. He was so loving this!

"But Babe so tiny," I pointed to my doodah. Then I pointed to his crotch and widened my eyes in fright, "And Carlos very big!"

A big wolf grin. Another understanding nod. "Carlos have Big Club. Long. Thick. All for Babe. Fuck her good. Make Babe very happy woman."

He sure would. I could testify first-hand to all of this. Oh, boy, could I ever! This was a very honest Caveman, all right! Babe could certainly trust him to put a smile on her Virginal Tribal Princess face….

As I desperately tried to come up with my next scintillating foray into Caveman Conversation 101, I couldn't resist lowering my eyes once again to check out the impressive progress of his erection. Wow! All 11 inches were definitely firmly locked and loaded into position by now, from the height of the tent he was sporting under that loincloth. Omigod!

Before I thought of my next conversational volley, Caveman Carlos took charge of the conversation once again.

"Carlos really horny. Babe incredibly hot. We fuck now," he announced, then made a lustful grab for me.

That was my cue! My 4-inch FMPs and I made a desperate run for it, in full virginal terror-mode-with Carlos in hot pursuit. He chased me around the hotel room, both of us getting more turned on from the pursuit than I'd imagined possible. Not that I was trying too hard to get away, you understand. Just enough to make things very interesting for both of us! And was it ever!

I grabbed a few throw pillows from the bed on my way past, and pelted him with them playfully as I maneuvered the chair between us. He growled in mock fierceness and batted the pillows away easily, his eyes obsidian with lust as he stalked relentlessly towards me with the eye of the tiger.

"Babe all mine!" he proclaimed, "Can't get away from Carlos."

"Babe is Princess," I reminded him, "Belongs to no man."

"No man but Carlos," he corrected me. "Babe is Carlos' chosen mate."

"Really? Then Carlos must catch Babe first," I taunted, lunging suddenly for the door. I got there, but never got the door open. Just as I reached for the doorknob, Carlos grabbed me by the forearm, spun me around and roughly pushed me backwards, trapping me against the door, his muscular almost-naked body pressed tightly against mine. I felt his rock-hard length against my belly, a rush of heat shooting through my body at the thought of how little material now separated us.

It was all I could do not to rip the damned loincloth right off him then and there, and turn the fantasy into 'Insatiable Slut Tribal Princess Babe strips Chieftain Carlos naked and rides him like he's a mighty Mammoth'. I resisted the temptation mightily. I was trying out the whole delayed gratification concept, after all.…but damn, I wanted him and I wanted him bad! And that thin little strip of pillow case wasn't hiding a whole hell of a lot of what he had to offer. Holy Moly, he was rock-hard and totally totally gigantic-and I remembered all too well what he was capable of doing when he was buried deep inside of me!

Silently, those incredibly dark eyes locked with mine, he raised both of my arms above my head, pinioning them there firmly. I shivered in arousal as he leaned his body into me, his deliciously sensual mouth hovering over mine.

"Consider yourself caught, Princess Babe," he whispered, his voice husky with lust.

Oh yeah, caught I surely was! "Now what?" I swallowed, trying in vain to control my now-pounding-out-of-control heartbeat and the wetness pooling down between my legs.

A big wolf grin. "Now Carlos strips Babe totally naked. Then fucks Babe really hard!"

"Yes, please," I licked my lips, feeling my temperature skyrocketing. What this man could do to me!

"You're supposed to be terrified, Babe," he reminded me with just the slightest of smirks. "Especially now that I've captured your luscious little virginal body, and am preparing to ravish you to unconsciousness."

"I was terrified. I ran, didn't I? Now I'm getting over it," I defended myself weakly. God, he smelled so good! I was such a little Slut Princess; I couldn't even summon up a modicum of interest in fighting him off.

"Not yet you're not, Babe. You're still supposed to fight me off. We agreed."

"But I'm too distracted to fight anymore," I whined shamelessly, "You're practically naked, Carlos! And I'm really horny."

That brought a 200-watt smile, "Babe-you're always horny."

"I can't help it," I insisted, "It's my Hungarian hormones. I can't fight you off unless I have some…incentive. Something to take the edge off my cravings."

"Really? Incentive, huh? MMMM. Let's see what we can do for our hot and hungry little Tribal Princess," he said softly, "But I expect a hell of a struggle after this…." He shifted his body so that his naked and very muscular thigh slid between my legs.

Greedily, I immediately pushed myself down onto it, lifting one of my legs and wrapping it around him to pull his tight hard body even closer. I began undulating, riding his leg with abandon as I felt the heat building in my nether regions and shooting outward through my body.

He kept my arms pinned over my head and watched me intently as I frantically rubbed my now swollen clit against his muscular thigh. I was moaning happily, enjoying the incredible sensations that were rippling through my body…

"Damn it, Babe!" he groaned, "Have some mercy! You make me want to take you right here and now!"

"Then why don't you?" I invited, grinding myself even faster as I felt the orgasm approaching rapidly, "Omigod! It feels so fucking gooooood."

"Because it'll be even better after we've….played a bit," he leaned in and nipped at my mouth with a series of slow scrumptiously enjoyable kisses. "You need to develop some discipline, Babe. Learn to wait and you'll enjoy it even more."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I chanted, my attention focused completely on the orgasm that was just starting to shake my body, "OMIGOD! OMIGOD!" I let myself go and threw my head back as I cried out in delight. My body shattered, and I watched Carlos' black eyes sparkle wickedly. So much for delayed gratification! I was clearly never going to get the hang of that concept-at least where a Carlos-induced orgasm was involved.

"Enjoy yourself there, Princess?" he teased, a wicked sparkle in his eyes.

"You know damned well I did," I purred, "Not as much as I would have with your cock buried deep inside me, though…."

"You're all flushed now," he whispered, "Dios, Querida! I love knowing I can do that to you."

"You could do even more for me," I wiggled against his rock-hard length, "And I could do a lot for you too…."

"In due time," he laughed softly, "But first, you owe me something in payback, remember?"

"This really gets you off, doesn't it?" I teased, rubbing against him, enjoying the closeness both physical and emotional. I'd never felt this connected with anyone in my life and I knew I never would be with anyone else. "I could always remind you that this is my fantasy, Carlos…."

"Which is why you got your incentive without any argument from me," he returned, "And why you're going to get a few more special incentives before we get to the big finish."

"More special incentives, huh? Well, I like the sound of that," I grinned, "Do we still have to do the whole 'me Tarzan, you Jane' conversation shit? Because that's really getting old."

"You were the one who said you wanted Caveman style sex," he reminded me, nuzzling my neck and dropping hot wet kisses along the length of my neck. "You've changed your mind now, Babe?"

"Not about the sex," I assured him, moaning as I arched my neck to give him better access. "I'm liking that part just fine. And I totally love your costume. Especially since I can feel every solid inch of that really gigantic club you got going on down there, Caveman Carlos."

"All for you, Princess Babe," he growled, launching into another dizzyingly enjoyable round of kisses, this time down my neck and around my shoulder blades and up the other side of my neck. "Every inch of it all especially for you."

"Damn! You really know how to kiss," I admitted, allowing myself to surrender to his very expert mouth, "You are far and away the best kisser on the planet." And he was. Carlos could kiss better than other men could fuck. And he could fuck better than….oh, God, I was getting desperate for release yet again! "You are the best ever, no other man comes close. You're magnificent!"

"Glad to hear it," he laughed quietly, his kisses growing more intense as he approached my mouth. "Especially since I'm the only man who'd better be kissing you for the rest of your life."

"You will be," I guaranteed, surrendering to another wave of completely intoxicating kisses that had me purring in delight. "I swear I could come from kissing you alone."

"Oh, so you don't need me to fuck you anymore? Wow, that little incentive must really have worked miracles, then," he teased, his lips launching a campaign to drive me completely insane with pleasure. The feel of his mouth on my breasts through the sheer fabric was like nothing I'd ever felt!

"Omigod, omigod, omigod," I moaned, dizzy with satisfaction, "Don't stop! Don't you dare stop now!"

He pressed me closer into the door, and I felt his hot breath in my ear as he whispered some things in Spanish that-whatever the hell they were-certainly got my temperature spiking. Then he moved his mouth upwards again, nipping at my earlobe, running his tongue slowly down my neck, sending his burning lips in hot pursuit moments afterwards.

I was dripping wet by this time, and began fighting for real, not to get away, mind you, but to get my hands free so that I could wrap them around him and never let go.

"That's it, Babe," he groaned happily as I began squirming against him, "Just like that, Babe! Perfect!"

Maybe he had a good idea with this whole struggling thing, after all? It felt absolutely phenomenal: our bodies grinding together, our skin touching intimately. Plus if I moved just right, I could probably push that damned piece of fabric off that particularly magical part of his body.

I leaned into him, snaking my leg around his thigh again, and undulated purposefully against his hard length, "Let me go, damn it! Take your hands off me, you macho beast! I am a Princess, I belong to no man."

"You don't sound too scared there, Princess," he grinned, "But I'm appreciating the effort anyway. Feels damned good!"

"Hard to sound terrified when I can't wait to have every inch of you deep inside my pussy," I admitted. "I am so fucking wet for you, Carlos, you have no idea!" I squirmed more enthusiastically, causing both of us to draw pretty ragged breaths. Oh, yeah, this struggling thing was definitely one of his best ideas yet! And although Caveman Carlos may have started out this fantasy firmly in the Stone Age, thanks to my fighting he was now definitely in the Bronze Age. He was so far beyond rock hard that I was flooded with wetness just thinking about what he would feel like pounding inside of me.

"You're wet for me, Babe, huh?" he nipped at my bottom lip, then sucked it roughly. "Maybe I need to check that part out for myself right now."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I agreed, as he let one of his hands release my wrists and began a slow torturous journey down my arm. His fingers traced my face, my lips, my throat, skimming over my breast and teasing my hard pebbled nipple through the nightie until I cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Carlos! Hurry!"

"Not quite yet, Princess," he dived in for another round of punishing kisses, "I'm still toying with my beautiful new plaything…."

"If you don't fuck me soon, I swear to God, Carlos, I'm going to lose my mind!" And I was. I was so hungry for him it was frightening.

"Maybe you need another incentive right about now?" he offered, his hand having finally completed its long journey over my breast, my quivering belly, and now resting on my hipbone. "Maybe something like this. What do you think, Princess?"

In a flash, his fingers had hooked the delicate fabric of my thong and torn it away from my body. I felt it drop to the floor only seconds before he plunged three long fingers deep into my hot hungry pussy. Oh, dear God in Heaven, I damned near came right on the spot!

"¡Tu eres absolutamente empapado - tan mojado no puedo creerlo! ¿Es esto todos para mí, Bebe?" (You are absolutely drenched-so wet I can't believe it! Is that all for me, Babe?)

His fingers began to move inside me, thrusting in and out as his thumb tormented my clit. His eyes were flashing wickedly, knowing just how out of control I was, and clearly loving the power he held over me. "You might want to struggle some more right now, Princess-I guarantee you'll enjoy the results."

"I can hardly stand," I whispered, my voice tremulous, "Let alone fight. Feels so gooooooood! Omigod!"

"I'll hold you up, Babe," he promised, "Just move for me, I want to watch you fall to pieces again. Do it, Babe-dance on my fingers! Take what you need!"

I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming and began to frantically grind myself into his hand, riding his fingers as he began to quicken their pace, finger-fucking me senseless. It was so damned good I was gone in seconds, and I threw back my head and let my body explode, knowing he would keep me upright.

That brought forth another low husky stream of Spanish, and still more hot burning kisses. I sighed blissfully, "You're a Sex God, Carlos. I have never in my entire life enjoyed anything more than I've enjoyed tonight!"

A wolf grin flashed back at me, "And we're nowhere near finished, Babe. We've got so much still to do…I'm just getting started with you. And that's just for tonight. Tomorrow we'll buy another box of condoms and we'll start all over again. With some brand new ideas. All very XXX rated. How's that sound?"

GULP. It sounded pretty fucking fantastic to me. If I didn't drop dead of pleasure before then, that is. Can a woman actually die from too many orgasms? I guess I was going to find out!

"Just Le Petit Morte, Babe. And you can handle that just fine," he laughed softly.

"I said that out loud again, huh?" Me and my big mouth.

"Uh-huh. You and that big mouth indeed. And the things you can do with that big mouth…." His eyes darkened as he again slid his fingers into me and started stroking me slowly, "Ride my fingers again, Princess. Show me you're ready to take my cock."

Oh, yeah, was I ever ready for that! I ground against him with delicious abandon, taking my pleasure again as I did some nibbling of my own on his sensual lips. I wasn't gentle with my kisses, either. I was trying to make that iron control of his snap. And he knew it, too.

"You like that?" he teased, his thumb settling determinedly upon the magic nub that launched those dozens and dozens of orgasms I'd enjoyed throughout the evening. "How about this? You like this better?" His one finger slid out of my pussy, still drenched in my juices, and joined his thumb in a determined assault against my clit. "Then I think you're really going to like…this."

He squeezed my clit suddenly and I shuddered, my inner walls clenching around his two fingers as another even more powerful orgasm started rippling through me. To my shock, Carlos stepped back and released my wrists, finishing up with his fingers in a dizzying flurry of motion that sent me into another amazing wave of orgasms. Then his now-freed hand slashed out suddenly, tearing my flimsy nightie straight down the front-completely shredding it in one powerful motion. The leopard-spotted chiffon floated languidly down to the floor, leaving my heaving breasts exposed to Carlos' licentious gaze.

"And now comes the next part….one we're both going to enjoy even more than this," he growled, his voice rough and dangerously sexy.

"Fuck me!" I begged, my voice coming out in a breathy whimper. "Please fuck me!"

He grinned, his look feral, "Not quite yet, Princess. First I have something else in mind for you."

"What are you-" I didn't even get the question out before he fisted his hand into my hair and pulled me roughly to him, then lowered his mouth to utterly devour mine, his tongue driving inside and expertly plundering my mouth. His other hand kneaded my breast, rolling my nipple and causing me to moan loudly with pleasure before he slipped his hand down to cup my ass and press me tightly against his hard body.

Lightheaded, I swooned, wrapping my arms around his well-built shoulders and digging my nails tightly into his back to pull him closer. No question, Carlos was playing his caveman role to the hilt-all I needed now was to be dragged by the hair back into his den and ravished within an inch of my life! And I was more than willing…

Seconds later I was airborne, literally, tossed easily over his muscular shoulder in a fireman's carry, his one hand firmly cupping my ass as he strode determinedly over to the bed, his other hand stroking my legs.

"Omigod!" I yelped as I was tossed down on my back with a thud, hitting the featherbed. I watched wide-eyed in stunned incredulous excitement as he grabbed my ankles and firmly pulled me down along the bed until I was carefully positioned exactly where he wanted me- my butt barely resting on the mattress, my legs spread apart and angled upwards towards my shoulders. He grabbed my arms and wrapped them around my legs so that, in effect, I was holding my legs wide open to his view. I couldn't even formulate words, I was so turned on!

This had definitely not been part of my fantasy…but I was more than willing to admit that his improvisations had taken my original 'fuck me Caveman-style' into spectacularly new dimensions of pleasure!

"Time for your next incentive, Princess," he rasped, kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed, "And this one is even better than the first." He reached up and grabbed my stilettos, tossing them off carelessly, "Not going to risk maiming by the shark-killer, Babe," he explained, "We're going to get very….enthusiastic here in a very few minutes. I happen to be a very voracious feeder. Shark-like in intensity, you might say. And I'm very very hungry for some soft succulent pussy. Hot and sweet and tremendously juicy-just the way I like it."

Oh. My. God.

"Carlos-" I could barely formulate English by now.

"Legend says that Babe, the Tribal Princess of the Juicy Pussy Clan, possesses the most addictive honey a man can ever taste…once she is finally awakened sexually. I think we can safely assume she's wide awake now, can't we?"

We definitely could.

"So now it's time for me to test the veracity of that legend. All that delicious honey…only for me! Time for me to eat my fill-and I'm a very greedy man!"

His head disappeared between my legs and he began to completely devour me mercilessly. I had been utterly pleasured by The Wizard of Ahhhs for almost an hour, but clearly slow and teasingly soft was not on Caveman Carlos' agenda for tonight. Hell, at the rate his hungry mouth was going, I would be insane with pleasure and ready for the asylum in just minutes.

The man was ferocious, completely and totally savage in his enjoyment of my now pulsating hot pussy. His tongue laved over me, slicing up and down the inside of my thighs, before his lips began sucking me into such a state of delirious excitement that I was now waving my legs around in a dizzying frenzy like whirligigs in a windstorm. He'd been very smart to divest me of those killer stilettos!

I arched my womanhood into his face, throwing back my head and wailing in delight as his mouth finally settled on my pussy lips and his fingers now joined in the party. My head tossed from side to side, my eyes rolling back in my head, and I made sounds that weren't even remotely human. I came over and over again as he continued his campaign to drive me completely out of my mind.

He came up for air a few times, muttering Spanish in a deep husky voice. Unable to be without him for long, I released my hold on my legs to try to grab his head and push him back down where he belonged. Instantly, he slammed my hands back in place, using his wrists to lock mine into place, none too gently, before he resumed his frenzied feeding. I had never seen Carlos this completely out of control, this primitive, even when we'd fucked before. Dear God, he was insatiable; I was sobbing in transports of delight I'd never before experienced.

I remembered for a minute that he'd asked in his first fantasy for me to fight him as a Intergalactic prisoner of war, and I'd messed it up when I balked at being tied up. Clearly the man got off mightily when he was in total control sexually….although he'd been more than willing to cede that control to me more than once in my dominance fantasies. But he was a true sexual dynamo right now, and I was his more-than-willing victim.

As the latest in a seemingly never-ending wave of orgasms finally subsided, Carlos gave my still-throbbing pussy one last kiss and then stood, his eyes triumphantly surveying the quivering mass he'd reduced my poor body to. "Still with me for the big finish, Princess?" he teased, tearing off his scrap of a loincloth to reveal the sight I'd been waiting for this entire fantasy. It was more than worth the wait!

DAMN! I'd sworn that he was 11 inches, but what I was looking at now rivaled the mythical 15 inches Raoul had been sporting in my earlier verbal attempts to spur Carlos' jealousy! He was harder than I'd ever seen him, and my eyes widened to the size of saucers as I locked onto his most impressive asset. "OMIGOD!" Either he'd grown a few inches, or I was now too damned delirious to be trusted to distinguish reality. Whichever it was, I was about to be a very very happy woman once again!

He reached over and picked up the condom, tearing the wrapper and dressing himself as his black lust-filled eyes locked with mine. "You're so beautiful," he rasped. "And I love you so much."

I swung my arms in back of me and scrambled backwards on the bed. Then I held out my arms in open invitation. "I love you, too," I whispered, my voice so husky I could barely recognize it. "But if you don't fuck me right now, Carlos, I swear to God, I'm going to lose my mind. Do it! Please!"

He came into my arms without another word. Seconds later he plunged inside me, burying his cock to the hilt in my hot hungry pussy, as he leaned his weight on his forearms and pushed my arms over my head. He didn't give me even a second to adjust to his enormous size. I honestly don't think either one of us could wait a second more, by this point.

His mouth hovered over mine, not touching, his eyes burning fiercely into mine. "Nunca habrá nadie para mí, pero tú, Estefanía. Tú eres mi vida. Tú eres mi corazón. Tú eres mi alma. Tú eres todo a mí. That means: there will never be anyone for me but you, Stephanie. You are my life. You are my heart. You are my soul. You are everything to me."

"And you to me. This is forever," I vowed, "We belong to each other from this night on, Carlos. No matter what. No matter how long it takes until you come home to me. Take me now, as if it were the first time. Make me a part of you. Make me your mate, your woman. Forever."

"Mi compañero, mi mujer, mi esposa. Para siempre." (My mate, my woman, my wife. Forever.) Carlos took my mouth with a searing kiss as he began to move inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and met him thrust for thrust as our tongues danced, the pleasure becoming so intense that I honestly thought I couldn't last a second longer. We broke the kiss only to breathe, then our mouths found each other again. I fought him, as he'd asked, but only to free my hands so that I could wrap them around his powerful back and pull him closer. I needed him inside me, flesh to flesh, a part of my body, as he had already become a part of my heart and my soul. It was beyond anything I'd ever felt, anything I'd ever imagined possible. I dug my fingernails into his back and held on for the ride of my life.

I honestly lost count of how many times I came, each more intense than the one before, but the final one was so shattering that I literally saw stars before I convulsed, the languor then sweeping through my body as if I were pitched out of the ocean's waves and onto a sandy beach. I lay breathless and spent. Carlos gave a loud cry that seemed to come from deep inside him, then rolled off me.

CHAPTER 24

We were lying on our backs, not touching, just staring at the ceiling. It took me a long time to find my voice, but when I did, I didn't even sound like myself. I was actually purring! I mean, an honest to God breathless just-had-the-best-fuck-of-my-life purr that resonated in the silence of the hotel room. "Are you still alive over there, Caveman Carlos?"

He still hadn't moved a muscle since he'd fallen in place. I think he'd had his own Doomsday Orgasm; his face looked almost shell-shocked. But gorgeous. Carlos was always gorgeous. And after a few minutes he also seemed to be fully conscious again. He answered me with a low husky groan, "Just barely hanging on, Babe."

I purposely kept the conversation light. I felt connected to him in a new way, and somehow I knew that the last thing Carlos wanted to do was to continue the intense conversation we'd shared at the moment of our joining. I was part of him, his woman. And he was my man. It was enough for me and I knew it was for him, too. Now it was time for lightness, for more flirting.

"That's some Big Club you're carrying there, Chief. And you used it perfectly. I'm one very satisfied Tribal Princess, thanks to you."

He sighed deeply, then smiled, drawing me into his powerful arms, "No thanks needed, Babe. I'm one very happy Chief. Exhausted, but damn, was it worth it! That was incredible. I mean-incredible."

"It was fabulous, all right. And you definitely improved on my suggestion for my fantasy. I think I'll let you have free reign on my next two. I'm officially signing off on that."

He grinned, "That's really dangerous, you know. I've got a very vivid imagination and there's no telling what-"

"Don't I know it! And I'm up for whatever you are," I slowly ran my hand down his abs, caressing his mocha-latte colored skin with ever-increasing pressure, "In fact, I'm fully recovered and ready for another fantasy right now."

"You're insatiable, woman," he laughed, giving me a long slow soft kiss that made me moan, "I haven't even taken off the damn condom and you want more."

"'You don't ask, you don't get,' my grandmother always says." I wagged my eyebrows at him comically, "So I'm asking, Superman. I definitely want to get whatever I can out of you before I let you out of my sight." I oh-so-carefully avoided saying what we both knew I really meant: before he shipped out to the Middle East and an uncertain future.

"Neither one of us is going to be good for a damned thing tomorrow-I mean, later today," he sighed, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. I was thrilled to see that his step was unsteady. Yep, no question, I was definitely screwing his brains out. I grinned triumphantly. Stephanie Plum, Intergalactic Princess, Tribal Princess, and Sex Bomb Extraordinaire! And for once I didn't give a rat's furry ass what my mother or the Burg busy-bodies thought about that. Hmmmmmmm. That's some really potent magic the Wizard's practicing!

I heard the toilet flush as I hoisted myself gingerly out of bed, holding onto the nightstand as I got my bearings. Damn, I was feeling muscles I hadn't used in forever! And I was kind of light-headed, come to think of it-but grinning ear-to-ear like a love-struck fool. And I was love-struck. I was head-over-heels in love with a sexy hot deliciously gorgeous man who loved me back. And we had the whole weekend together…aside from the damned wedding, that is. I groaned, unhappily remembering my promised stint as a bridesmaid. I so did not want to do that in the condition I was going to be in this afternoon. That was a nightmare waiting to happen, particularly since Stella and my friends all knew why I was going to be so out of it!

"Problems?" Carlos said, crossing over to the bed just in time to hear me groan. He was naked, and the sight of him-moving around the room so totally un-self-conscious about his body-still took my breath away. "Babe?"

Staring transfixed at him, I checked for drool. Nope, I'm good. "I'm thinking seriously of ditching this wedding gig." Wow! I don't know where that blurt came from!

He looked at me carefully, then his eyes looked regretful, "I have something I can't get out of, Babe. So if you bail on your friend, you'll be alone until evening…."

"Oh, crap." I sighed, moving slowly to the bathroom to freshen up, "I can't bail on Stella, even if you could ditch your appointment. They'd hunt me down and string me up on a flagpole. And I'd feel guilty as hell for standing her up, no matter how much I want to. But I don't want this to end, Carlos. This…right here and now….you and me….over and over….it gets better and better each time. And each time I can't imagine loving you more or wanting you more. But then you touch me again….you kiss me….and I'm just….." I couldn't finish it. There were no words to express what Carlos made me feel, and finally I gave up trying. I loved the man more than life. If he didn't come back, I'd die inside. I knew it. And no matter what I had told myself, a weekend wasn't enough to store up memories to last for 18 months…if we were lucky. Forever, if we weren't.

"Babe," he met my eyes, reading me perfectly. How could he do that? But he always did. "This-what's between us-is a miracle. Our miracle. Don't question it, just accept it. Take what we're given, and don't waste a second regretting anything. I'll come back to you. Whatever it takes, remember? I don't make promises I don't keep."

"'Cause you're Superman, right?" I smiled softly, blinking a sudden tear out of my eye. I had to have faith-and I would. Carlos loved me and he would find me again. I just needed to hold on and learn patience. Which I didn't have. Okay, I get it, I get it: the Universe is testing me, teaching me to grow up and learn the concept of delayed gratification. Problem was, I much preferred the instant kind. But he was right: worrying about the uncertain Future was wasting the precious Present. And I wasn't going to do that anymore.

"Te amo, Querida," he whispered as I moved into his arms. He gave me a long reassuring hug, and we stood for a moment silently drawing strength from each other. "Siempre. Always."

"Te amo, Carlos," I ran my hand over his cheek, memorizing the feel of his face. "Always."

He exhaled and suddenly slapped my bottom lightly, turning me in the direction of the bathroom. "You've got war paint all over your beautiful face, Tribal Princess Babe. I think you'd better wash it off before we start our next adventure, don't you?"

Shit! I remembered the painted squiggles I'd put all over my face with my eye pencils. I felt like an idiot now that the fantasy was over! I groaned and quickly headed to the bathroom to repair the damage.

When I returned, Carlos was holding my overnight bag and the key card. He was dressed in his tight jeans and no shirt, leaning against the door, looking like Sex on Legs. "Another road trip, Babe. Put this on fast." He tossed me a red scrap of material. "Here are your shoes. Put them on. Good girl. Now grab that bucket over there, and let's head out."

"Road trip?" I thought for a minute as I dressed, "We're going to the lobby to have public sex, aren't we?" True, I had told him I was up for anything, and he had warned me about his vivid imagination. But still

"We're not going to the lobby for sex, Babe," he laughed. "We've just about trashed the sheets and towels here. We're heading to my room on the eighth floor. We can finish our final four fantasies there."

"Not in public?" I asked, wiggling into the red spandex dress and patting my girls into the tube top.

"You sound disappointed, Babe," he teased, "We can always do it in the elevator if you insist. If we maneuver really carefully, we can probably avoid the security camera. Or try to, anyway. But I can't guarantee-"

"Security cameras?" I felt myself blushing head to toe. "No way! No elevator sex!"

"So we head to my room as planned," he reiterated as we stepped into the empty hall. "It's almost 3 a.m., Babe, everyone should be asleep so we won't run into company. Unless you make a ton of noise." He grinned when I stuck my tongue out at him.

Without benefit of a mirror, I'd quickly thrown on the miniscule red tube top dress he'd tossed at me, and slipped my feet into 4-inch killer FMP's in a black snakeskin that made me feel truly dangerous. I looked both ways in the empty hall and shook my head incredulously. "I can't believe I'm doing this. You have no shirt on, Carlos. And I look like I just rolled out of bed. What if anyone sees us? They'll think I'm a hooker and God knows what they'll think you are!"

"I told you, no one will be around at this time of morning. Now hurry up, let's get to the elevator."

He was two steps ahead of me, and I blanched. His muscular mocha-latte colored back was covered now in thin red stripes, courtesy of my fingernails! Oh God! We couldn't be seen, we just couldn't! I doubled my speed and caught up to him just as he was pressing the button for the elevator. It was then I caught sight of myself in the mirror across from the elevator. I was covered in hickeys! I counted six, all over my neck and shoulders! Crappity, crap, crap! I'd been in such a hurry to scrub off the makeup from my face,and my hair was such a mess that I hadn't paid too much attention to anything else. But seeing myself now in better lighting, I was completely horrified.

"I can't be in the wedding looking like this!" I exclaimed loudly, pointing at a particularly prominent hickey on the base of my throat, "I look like-like-like-I look like-" There were no words. Absolutely none. Trust me on this.

Carlos looked me over in smug satisfaction. "You look like a woman who has been thoroughly fucked and loved every second of it, Babe. And you're walking like it too."

Damn, but I was! I was going to make a spectacle out of myself in the wedding-and there would be tons of photos to prove it! And video, too, with me limping down the aisle as if I'd been riding a horse for days. I was so screwed, literally as well as figuratively. I had a quick mental flash of my mother withholding pineapple upside down cake from me for life for this escapade!

"You don't have to sound so happy about this," I muttered, trying unsuccessfully to arrange my mop of just-been-fucked hair to disguise my hickeys. "Damn it, Carlos! You knew I had to be in a wedding! What were you thinking?"

"I sure as hell didn't give Stella What's Her Name any thought, that much is for sure," he smirked, "And I didn't hear you complaining any, Babe."

"What am I going to do? And where the hell is the freaking elevator? Why isn't it here yet? Who else is using it at this hour?" I was not a happy camper.

Carlos shrugged carelessly, "We could always take the stairs if you prefer."

"Four floors? In 4-inch stilettos? I think not, Superman." I caught sight of myself again holding the bucket. "I look like an escaped lunatic." My hair had taken on a life of its own and was now rivaling Medusa's, missing only the snakes. And the basket made me look like I was trick or treating, dressed as a drunken skanky ho. Good God!

Just then it happened. My stomach gave a great rumble, the terrible Beast inside springing to life after a long respite. Carlos and I both jumped at the tremendous unexpected noise. I flushed again. "Sorry about that."

"Babe!" He sounded awe-struck. The Beast was truly ferocious.

"Omigod, I'm hungry," I suddenly realized. That was part of the light-headed feeling! I had burned up the fuel of my Fettuccini Alfredo long since, and now I needed sustenance. "We'll call for room service when we get upstairs, okay? I need to eat something."

The elevator door opened and Carlos ushered me in, not bothering to respond to my statement. Thankfully the elevator was empty, although I could see the damned security cameras and did my level-headed best to hide my face. To keep my face out of camera range, I was peering down at the not-unsubstantial cleavage the spandex tube top had given me. Hurrah for Frederick's of Hollywood! Who needed a Wonder Bra? Not moi! I tried not to think of what kind of comments the sight of me was generating in the guard's office. Alice Slotsky's daughter Grizelda would never wear a dress as tight as a sausage casing in a hotel elevator, looking like the good time that was had by all.

Carlos checked his watch, unconcerned about his naked torso. Hell, why should he be? He looked like a Greek God. The man was built to please and anyone who ran across him would be too busy admiring him to notice he was under-dressed for roaming around the hotel. Men would want to be him, and women would want to be with him. It just wasn't fair, I tell you. I pushed that out of my mind and concentrated instead on the important thing: my stomach. The terrible Beast took priority over everything else.

"I'm going to have the Eggs Benedict," I decided, as the doors glided shut. "With three strips of bacon on the side. And orange juice. And toast. What are you having?"

"You." Carlos gave me a wolf grin. "And since the kitchen closed an hour ago, I guess your Eggs Benedict will have to wait a few hours. Looks like the only thing for you to eat is standing right here next to you. And I'm more than willing to satisfy your hunger, Babe."

I'll just bet he was! I let my eyes drop to his now awakening Beast; the bulge in his snug-fitting jeans made my mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert, and I bit my lip. "Cameras, huh?" I said softly. I felt a naughty little flutter down South near my doodah. I was so a pineapple upside down cake-less nymphomaniac!

"Feeling brave, Wonder Woman?" he asked, his voice smooth as velvet. Our eyes met and I could see from the darkening of his milk chocolate eyes that he was hoping my answer was in the affirmative. I took a deep breath. What the hell, right? We could maneuver ourselves to avoid the camera. I wasn't ever daring to come back to this hotel anyway! Not after the mess we'd left behind in my all-but-trashed room! I nodded to Carlos, and was rewarded with a sudden brilliant flash of his 200-watt smile.

He dropped the overnight bag, and reached into the bucket I held, carefully selecting a piece of paper that he then opened and showed to me. To my utter astonishment, it said, in Carlos' writing, 'Something you've never done before because it scared or embarrassed you.'

"How did you know to pick…" I didn't get a chance to finish the question before I was pushed to the back of the elevator with Carlos' mouth on mine in a searing kiss that made my knees buckle. I felt his erection pressed against my leg, and suddenly I forgot all about cameras and elevators and anything other than my overwhelming need for this man.

I was wet and ready for him, and he hurriedly tugged up my dress. Then we both attacked his belt and his zipper. He was sheathed in the condom and inside of me in less than a minute. My legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as he pounded me senseless against the wall of the elevator, while our tongues dueled for supremacy. I came almost instantly, helped by Carlos' very expert fingers on my clit. I screamed into his mouth, and he quickened his pace and took me over the top again before he gave a low groan and spent himself in the condom.

He had his eyes closed for a second as our foreheads touched, and I marveled again how beautiful a man he was. And he was all mine! We moved quickly apart, and adjusted our clothes, still avoiding the camera. Carlos tied the condom closed and looked around casually for a method of disposal. Figures. I'd be mortified holding a used condom in public. Carlos behaved coolly, as if he were holding the morning newspaper. I picked the remaining three papers out of the bucket and thrust the empty container at him. He smiled, then dropped the condom matter-of-factly inside. So much for trick or treat. I'd definitely gotten the treat! The skanky ho costume worked every time, I guess.

The elevator door opened a moment later, and I stepped out, followed by Carlos who had just picked up my overnight bag. I was holding the bucket in one hand, with a used XXL condom inside, and clutched the remaining three pieces of paper in my left hand. And my red spandex dress-what there was of it-had been rolled up and scrunched enough that it didn't hide a whole lot of what God gave me. My hickeys were on full display once again, my hair having been mussed by Carlos' careless hands. And now I sported swollen lips and that rosy glow that happens when a woman has been truly satisfied. Which I was, for sure. Oh yeah, I was feeling on top of the world right about now.

Which is why God, with his truly bizarre sense of humor, stepped in to slam me down to Earth again. We'd taken two steps or so when the first door in the corridor opened and an elderly woman peeked outside.

"Fred? Is that you?" She jumped a foot when she saw us, and I jumped two. Eeek!

Carlos was unfazed, and said, "Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you, Ma'am."

She looked at me like I was some form of pond scum, then got a good look at shirtless Carlos. He flashed her that dazzling 200-watt smile; she almost melted where she stood and I was forgotten. I watched her eyes as she slowly pulled them away from his gorgeous face and slid them down over his naked torso. Her eyes widened further and she swayed on her feet. She blinked once then opened her mouth-but nothing came out. Not a peep.

I knew exactly how she felt.

Fred, fortunately for her-and unfortunately for me-was only steps behind us, with a bucket of ice. He spoke before he saw us, having come from the ice machine around the corner, "This should do the trick, Bertha. Your headache will be gone in minutes."

"What headache?" Bertha asked, still dazed. She continued to stare at Carlos, who'd by then pulled me past the door before Fred had cardiac arrest at the sight of me. But we didn't move fast enough.

"Stephanie?" Fred's voice was incredulous. "I thought it was you! What are you doing here? Dressed like…like…like…" Words failed him, as they had failed me earlier.

Crapola! Mr. Higgenbottom. My high school Algebra teacher! Quick, Stephanie, I thought, think fast!

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I slid quickly behind Carlos, pushing my hair over my face as much as possible. "I think you've made a mistake."

"You aren't Stephanie from Chambersburg High School?" he asked, his aged eyes peering suspiciously at me.

"Who?" I batted my eyes innocently. Well, as innocently as I could standing there dressed like a skanky ho in next to nothing, hickey covered, and bald-faced lying to a man who knew damned well I was Ellen and Frank Plum's younger daughter. Did I say crappity crap crap? "I don't know any Stephanie. I'm Carla. Carla…Carla. Clark. Carla Clark! I'm from out of town…Cleveland. I'm just here overnight…for the…the…." my brain fried, I desperately floundered for something believable. "The bowling convention." I remembered the sign in the hotel lobby welcoming the National Association of Professional Bowlers. "I'm a professional bowler. Very famous. You've probably seen my face on TV tons of times, that's why you think you know me. I have one of those familiar faces-"

Carlos made what sounded suspiciously like a snort, then took charge of the situation before things got even more out of control and I put my foot any further down my throat. "Carla here needs to get her rest so she can bowl a perfect game tomorrow. She's got a big match with her friends Irene from Indianapolis, Betty from Baltimore and Myrtle from Milwaukee. If you'll excuse us, we'll say goodnight. Come on, Carla, let's go nighty-night so you can throw the bull….I mean, the ball tomorrow."

We made tracks down the hall, and after a few minutes I heard the door to the room behind us close.

"Carla Clark from Cleveland?" Carlos was having trouble keeping a straight face. "And a professional bowler, yet. My, my, I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of your talents yet, have I, Ms…..Clark. Is it Miss or Mrs.?"

"Bite me," I invited.

"Love to," he laughed and leaned down to grab me. His teeth nibbled on my earlobe and I shivered in delight. "That's just to hold you till we get to the room. And by the way, you're a lousy liar."

"I know. Why me? Mr. Higgenbottom was my high school Algebra teacher. He's like 80 or so. Why isn't he retired and living in Florida?"

"Maybe he is, and he's back here for the bowling convention," Carlos grinned. "Hey! Who knows, he could be your opponent for the big match, Carla!"

"Oh, crap. Now I have to wonder if he'll tell my mother."

"Wonder Woman isn't afraid of anyone."

"Wonder Woman never met my mother."

"I'd say she can't be that bad, but I know better. What are the odds of him running into your mother, realistically? Not good. You'll be fine…Carla."

But I was on to other thoughts now. "How did you know which paper to pick?" I suddenly remembered he'd had no trouble choosing the paper which fit our fantasy.

"The Wizard knows all," he said with a wink.

"Tell me," I begged, giving him a long wet kiss. "I'll make you a very happy man."

"You do that already," he hugged me, returning the kiss. "But okay, I'll spill my secret. I can tell mine by how I folded the paper. And I had only two fantasies left, so I pulled one and the odds were 50/50 I'd pull that one."

"You got lucky," I smiled. "See? Luck is on your side."

"It definitely is," he pulled me down the corridor, "Let's get moving or we'll never get there. We have three fantasies left. And I'm ready for all of them."

"Woo hoo, that sounds good for me!" I allowed him to lead me in the direction of his room until I was suddenly distracted. "Oh, look!" I pointed happily, "room service!"

A cart had been pushed out from a room into the hallway, much of the food still uneaten. I tucked the bucket under my left arm and lifted a silver domed lid curiously before Carlos grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I dropped the lid back onto the cart, and the clatter echoed in the silent hallway.

"What are you doing?" I asked indignantly, my stomach's rumbling echoing my question. "I told you, I'm hungry. And you said the kitchen is closed. I'm just going to grab a little snack to tide me over till breakfast."

"Not by scavenging leavings from some stranger's plate," he retorted. "You don't know how long that's been out here."

"I need food," I pouted. "Those fries looked good! I can eat cold fries, Carlos. And onion rings. I love onion rings! No one's ever caught salmonella or botulism poisoning from fries and onion rings! That's a scientific fact!"

Carlos-I swear-rolled his eyes in true Burg fashion. Then he pulled me back toward the alcove which held the floor's ice machine. We were back in Mr. Higgenbottom territory! He pulled out a few bills from his pocket and handed them over, indicating the vending machine. "Help yourself, Princess. Crackers and cheese. Doritos. Cheese Doodles. All the non-nutritional food a starving Princess needs to keep her engine stoked up and the Beast at bay."

I grinned, "This is not going to be pretty."

"I know," he groaned, "But unless we want a 3 a.m. trip to McDonald's-and I don't-this is the best we can do. And keep your voice down, or you can trade bowling tips with Fred and his Mrs."

"I'm fine with the vending machine." I started punching buttons and bag after bag of junk food jumped out to greet me. They even had that Reese's Peanut Butter Cup I'd been longing for earlier in the evening! "Come to Mama," I cooed as the orange labeled treat shook itself loose of the metal hook and landed in the well of the vending machine.

Carlos watched in a horrified fascination. "You're going to eat all of that at this hour of the morning? Together?"

"Not at one time," I defended myself. "I'm no pig."

"All right then."

"One after the other."

"Good God."

"I'll even share because it's your money."

"Don't bother, I don't want to see a grown woman cry."

"I have this thing for junk food."

"I noticed."

"And chocolate."

"I remember vividly."

"And a certain hot sexy Cuban's cock."

"Babe."

We walked back down the corridor at a quick pace now. I grinned, enjoying his discomfort as he tried to balance the overnight bag and my stash of food yet still find his room key with a bulging erection in his jeans. Carlos didn't get easily discomfited, and he was trying to be casual, but I could see he was having a rough time of it. "Anything wrong, Superman?"

"What could be wrong?"

"Need some help there?"

He groaned as I ran my hand over his package. "If you don't take your hand away, I'm going to lose it right here in the hall."

I grinned, "Kinda eager, huh?"

The door flew open and he tossed my overnight bag inside and pulled me after him. Yep, the man was eager. So was I.

CHAPTER 25

Carlos' POV

Stephanie continued to surprise me. Her willingness to have sex in the elevator, despite the presence of the security cameras, had totally stunned me. It had taken less than a minute for me to get hard and start taking both of us as close to Heaven as I'd ever get. Then, fresh from hotter than hot sex, she'd launched into her "Carla Clark" riff with the old guy who was apparently one of her high school teachers. She was a lousy liar, but totally enchanting nonetheless. I couldn't get rid of Fred and his Mrs. fast enough. I wanted my Babe all over again. The professional bowlers convention, for crying out loud! Then she'd started on a desperate and determined food search; and now, as a result, she sat cross-legged on the king size bed, a bounty of junk food bags pooled between her legs, and she was crunching Cheese Doodles like they were manna from Heaven. How could she manage to look sexy eating junk food? Damn, I was really losing it now!

"How the hell can you eat that crap?" I shook my head in wonderment. "Do you have any idea what chemicals are in those things?"

"Yummy, yummy, yummy," she crunched faster, holding up her orange-colored fingers and then sucking them each lovingly. My cock twitched at the sight of it, and she gave a lusty laugh. "That's yummy, too. But first I gotta get my strength back, Superman. You wore me out, you know. A girl's gotta have sustenance."

"Babe," I sighed, watching her fingers disappear into her mouth and remembering how good it felt to have that delicious mouth sucking my cock.

I'd disposed of the used condom in the bathroom, and tossed her overnight bag on the floor. I stared at the three remaining pieces of paper, sitting oh-so-innocently on the nightstand. I knew what my remaining fantasy was, and I'd carefully packed her bag to include her costume…and what a costume I'd selected! But I still wondered what her two remaining fantasies were. She'd surprised and delighted me with her previous selections. I'd never have imagined her to be so bold. But she was, and I knew that the remaining fantasies would be just as hot.

"My pick," she interrupted my musings, pointing to the papers. "I get to pick the next two, actually. You took my turn in the elevator."

"That I did," I replied, remembering.

"So I get to pick two in a row, it's only fair." The Cheese Doodles gave way to Doritos, and the manic crunching continued unabated. The girl was clearly hungry.

"You can pick all of them," I offered with a smile, "I'm all for being cooperative, Babe."

"Good to know," she grinned, offering me a chance at the package of chips.

"No thanks," I waved them away. "I prefer nutritious food, not empty calories."

"Your loss," she said, munching faster than ever. "God, these are so good!"

"There isn't a contest I don't know about, is there, Babe? Whoever finishes their junk food fastest wins? You on a time clock here?"

"No contest, Superman. I just need to feed my Beast before we feed yours," she explained, moving along to a package of chocolate chip cookies. "Yummy. My absolute favorites."

"A chocolate lover, huh?" I watched, amused as she devoured the cookies with a loud moan of appreciation that bordered on the obscene.

"Nothing better than chocolate." She considered carefully, "Except really great sex."

"Speaking of," I indicated the overnight bag. "You pick a fantasy out right now and I'll get your costume ready."

"I can't believe you packed my clothes so you'd be able to pick out costumes!" She shook her head, incredulous. "What if my two fantasies don't fit the clothes you have in there? What then, Superman?"

"Then we do without a costume and I simply ravish your naked body instead," I teased, wagging my eyebrows and winning a hearty laugh.

"I suppose you packed all my lingerie and tons of high heels?"

"You know me very well, Babe." I'd done exactly that.

"Including those black stiletto boots you were drooling over earlier?" she smirked.

"I've got big plans for those boots," I confessed. "Very big plans."

"Now you have me really curious," she popped a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup in her mouth, and reached over to grab the three pieces of paper. "Since you revealed your secret trick on how to tell your fantasies from mine…I think I'll be very brave and pick your last one. The boot one, I'm guessing?"

"It is," I said, my voice husky at the thought that she would give me my fantasy before selecting one of hers. "Thanks, Babe."

"De nada, Superman," she winked, "You've aroused my curiosity, among other things. And I love those boots, so-"

She opened the paper and read silently. Her eyes widened, and her tongue stilled where it had been licking the chocolate off her pouty lips. "Holy Moly, Mother of God! You are one sick puppy, Superman!"

My cock was straining to escape the confines of my tight jeans. "Are you in?"

"Not real pictures, though, right?" Steph nibbled her lip thoughtfully, "You don't have a camcorder or anything hidden around here, do you?"

"Unfortunately, no," I sighed unhappily. I'd kill for one, though. "But you have a digital camera."

"For the wedding, sure," Steph nodded absent-mindedly, still examining the paper in dazed fascination, "But it's downstairs in my room."

"No, it's not," I revealed, "it's right here." I held it up, having taken it from the overnight bag where I'd packed it earlier. "It's one of the props for this fantasy."

"Oh shit!" she murmured, her eyes widening, "You mean….really pose for those pictures? As in, you plan to take the pictures and keep them? Me naked?"

The paper sat opened next to her, my writing neat and precise: 'You are a porn actress and I am directing you in your first film. You will pose as I direct you to, and then, aroused by the photo session, you'll beg me to fuck you.'

"You've got a beautiful body, Babe," I said in a husky tone, "I'd love to have photos of you to take with me when I go Monday."

"There are photos and then there are photos," Steph argued, "Naked shots of me are not going anywhere outside this room. No matter how beautiful you think my body is, Superman! No way am I going to risk those pictures getting on the internet or having strangers ogle me. Nope, not doing it! You take a few photos and we delete them here and now the very second the fantasy is done."

"Just let me keep a few to remember this by," I urged.

"Famous last words," Steph snorted, "No way, Superman. You'll be looking at your pictures and some of your Army buddies will come over, and before long they'll show you their women and you'll show them your woman…."

"No, I won't." I tried sounding definite, but it wasn't working even for me.

"Damn straight you won't," she nodded, "Because there won't be anything to show them! Nope, no way, no pictures, no how."

I smiled engagingly, "I'll make a deal with you."

"No deals." She looked imperiously at me, and shook her head, her wild auburn curls cascading over her bare shoulders.

"It's gonna be a long 18 months, Babe." I let my voice lower to a velvet purr, "And there are going to be some very lonely nights."

"True. And they're going to be picture-less nights," she interrupted me.

"Just three. A close up and two full body views," I bargained. "Come on!"

"Dream on, Carlos. A close up of my face, okay. You want full body views, I'm wearing clothes. And not some costume you dream up, either."

"I'll make it worth your while, Babe," I insisted. "You pose for me, I'll pose for you."

Steph stopped chewing mid-candy. "You'll pose? Naked?" I could see the glazed look in her all-too-revealing blue eyes. She was definitely interested, as I knew she would be.

"I'll pose naked. However you want, Babe," I agreed. "You let me direct you, I'll let you direct me. You call the shots."

"Good bribe," she congratulated.

"I thought so."

"But the answer is still no."

"No?"

"I'll take a few pictures of naked you, and with my shitty luck my mother will go looking to borrow my camera. And before you know it, the porn shots are right there for all to see. And I'm dessert-less for life, and labeled a sex offender, just like Grandma Mazur."

"Where is that brave Wonder Woman who had sex in the elevator, damn the security cameras?"

"Where is she? I'll tell you! Right now she's desperately hoping to hell the guards aren't, as we speak, re-watching some camera angle she didn't see and getting their rocks off as her legs are kicking in the breeze while she's getting fucked against that wall. Nope, Carlos, you are not going to change my mind on this. Not doing it, not even for you. You can pick out my outfit, you can direct me all you like and we can have hot sex. Really hot sex. Boots on and everything. You can take all the photos you want with my camera….and then we'll sit here afterwards and I'll delete them all. Then I'll put my clothes on and smile and you can take a picture of me. Anyway-what are you going to do with it? How can we get it developed before you leave on Monday morning?"

"I'll download it on my laptop; I have it here in the room," I pointed to the closet where I kept the laptop locked in my luggage. "I can use it as my screensaver."

"Yeah, and that is exactly why I'm holding firm to the no naked-pics position. All I'd need to do is be your screen-saver in my birthday suit!"

"Don't worry, I wouldn't use that picture as the screen-saver, Babe."

"I won't have to worry about it, Carlos. Because you're not going to have the picture to use." She finished her stash of goodies and climbed off the bed to toss away the empty bags and wrappers.

"Don't trust me, Steph?" I gave her my wolf grin. "Why not?"

She grinned back, "You're going into combat for 18 months. Now let me see, I remember all too well the condition you were in less than 12 hours ago when I met you downstairs in the bar. Horny enough to go through a pack of condoms in one night. And I'm not supposed to worry about letting you loose with a few naked pictures of me in nothing but my stiletto boots and a just-been-fucked smile? Does it say 'stupid' on my forehead, Soldier? I think not."

Smart woman.

I handed her the tiny scrap of black lace fabric that passed for a teddy, and the fitted black over-the-knee boots that had aroused me from the first moment I'd seen them.

Steph smiled seductively, "So, I need to go and get ready for my film debut, huh, Mr. Director?"

"You can call me Carlos," I purred, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "We're going to be very…friendly. I run that kind of set."

"Really? How lucky for me. I'm new to this kind of thing. I need…hands on help."

"You came to the right director, Babe. Hands on help is my specialty. Just slip into your little costume-"

"Little is right."

"Did I mention I love your taste in lingerie?"

"I figured as much. Your…friend….down there is giving it a standing ovation."

"My…friend…is eager to come out and meet you."

"I better change clothes and get ready, then. I don't want to miss out when you call 'Lights, camera, action'."

"You aren't going to miss a thing, Babe. I'm going to make sure you get special treatment."

Steph winked and slipped into the bathroom, her gorgeous ass wiggling sensuously as she closed the door behind her. Damn, I was hard and ready! I moved to the bed, eager to get started.

She didn't disappoint.

Moments later the door opened and Steph stepped out in a teddy that was so sinfully tiny that there were no words to describe how hot and horny I was at the sight of her. She stood posing in the black lace halter-topped nothing, with scraps of material that barely covered her nipples and a neckline that plunged far below her belly button. A tiny strap held the fabric in place around her neck, a faux diamond chain holding the two pieces of fabric across her breasts. The teddy was held around her hips with two tiny ties that left nothing to the imagination.

The fitted black boots ended over the top of her knee and laced at the back of her thighs. They were so hot I damn near came just from the sight of her. She was Sex on Legs. And she was mine.

"Babe! You look so sexy I can't put it into words." My eyes were popping out of my head, my tongue hanging out panting. Damn! She looked so hot she was smoking!

Steph shook her head saucily, teasing me with her long mane of riotous auburn curls. She had no makeup to touch herself up; she hadn't needed it, either. "So, I'll pass muster as your leading lady, Carlos?"

"Jesus, Steph, you're killing me. Where the hell did you find that outfit?"

She laughed, a lusty laugh that sent shivers of delight all down my spine, "Bridal shopping. A group of us hit Victoria's Secret after work today to find Stella's wedding night ensemble. And naturally, we all had to do some shopping for ourselves. You just happened to hit things on a lucky night. I bought quite a bit at Victoria's Secret, thanks to Tina's urging. She was convinced that I'd need them, even though I was swearing off men forever."

"I owe Tina," I rasped, snapping the first of a half dozen photos of Steph in that killer outfit. "Remind me to thank her."

"You and me both," Steph whispered, "God! Just seeing that look on your face has me so wet I could scream!"

"You'll scream," I promised. "Just not yet. First we have some photos to take."

"I'm all yours."

"That you are, and don't forget it," I leaned over to caress her face, "Just remembering you like this will get me back to you, no matter what. Babe, you look so damned sexy you have no idea what you do to me."

She grinned, her eyes pointedly sliding down my body, "I have a very good idea what I do to you. And I'm loving every second of it."

"Over to the bed, Babe. And stretch out, just...like...this."

I posed her exactly as I wanted, one hand under her head, the other resting on her breast, her legs angled to reveal that patch of womanhood that I could see was already wet for me. "Perfect! Now move your hand a bit over there...hold it!" I snapped the photo. "And now I want you to look over here, lick your lips, think of me deep inside you. Brush your nipples and get them hard. Then…perfect!" I snapped another shot.

Steph was a natural model, moving seductively from one pose into the next, her natural sensuality making the photos searingly hot. I snapped dozens of photos, finally having her slip the teddy off her breasts and using her hands to cup her full breasts as I fought my urge to toss the camera down, tear off the teddy and take her completely.

"You like this, Carlos?" she husked. "What about this? You like this?"

"Babe!" I liked it. I liked it all. Hell, I did more than like it. I freakin' ass loved it! She was a wet dream come true and I could tell from her sparkling eyes that she was enjoying my naughty fantasy as much as I was.

The boots. God, those boots! The sight of her long lush go-on-forever legs encased in those tight boots, laced behind her thighs, had me rock hard throughout the photo session. Finally I could take no more.

"What do you want, Babe?" I asked, my hint to her that I was ready to move to the best part of our fantasy.

Stephanie didn't disappoint. She languidly climbed on her hands and knees and crawled towards me across the bed, her voice husky. She rose on her knees, slowly doffed the teddy and tossed it teasingly over the camera. "What do I want? I'll tell you exactly what I want. What I've wanted the very second I saw you. I want your cock, Carlos. I want you deep inside me, fucking me rough and fast and hard and deep. Fucking me, pounding me so hard I can't stop screaming."

Holy shit! I tossed the camera to the side, feverishly unzipping my jeans. I couldn't get the condom on fast enough! I gave her exactly what she'd asked for. She kept the boots on, and I felt the black rubber rubbing against my waist and ass as she locked her legs around me and I rode her to a thunderously powerful orgasm.

I let slip a long stream of Spanish, words that came from deep inside myself, poetry to tell this beautiful creature all she was to me, all she had given me. Her moans of pleasure were swallowed by my hungry mouth, and we moved across the bed, our bodies locked together in a dance of ecstasy. When I came, I felt her shudder beneath me, and knew that she and I had come together in an orgasm that was every bit as satisfying as any we'd ever had before.

It took a few minutes before I could find the strength to roll off her; our bodies were covered with a fine sheen of perspiration. I kissed her gently, then rolled onto my back.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMM," Steph sighed.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMM," I returned.

"That was sooooooooo good," she stretched like a satisfied cat. "I enjoyed being your leading lady, Mr. Director."

"I enjoyed having you," I teased.

"I enjoyed being had," she giggled, coming into my arms for a long loving hug and a few more sweet soft kisses.

"Those boots are lethal, Steph," I warned her, "Promise me something: you don't wear those boots for anyone but me."

"Give me some incentive," she purred as I climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

"What kind of incentive?" I called over my shoulder. "You have anything particular in mind?" I stepped out of the bathroom and found Steph with the camera, naked except for her boots.

"This kind," she whispered, snapping a few photos as I leaned against the door jam and posed for her.

"Change your mind, Babe?" I asked hopefully.

"About the nude photos?" she replied, "No. Not a chance. But we can look at the pictures together before I delete them all."

"That's a waste of some damned fine pictures," I protested.

"Well, that's how it goes, Superman," she shrugged, a soft smile lighting her gorgeous face. "We can always snap a few photos for your collection that aren't XXX rated."

My eyebrow raised interestedly, "What are you offering?"

"Got a shirt I can borrow?" she asked. "I'll keep the boots on…."

I grinned. Yeah, that'd do. That'd do just perfectly….

CHAPTER 26

Stephanie's POV

Life was completely and utterly perfect for Stephanie Michelle Plum. Namely moi. I wiggled my toes, lying naked beside the roaring fire, and thought-just thought, mind you-about opening my 40 pound eyelids to greet the day. Then I decided 'shit, no' and raced back to Morpheus' sweet embrace. That's when all hell started to break loose. It started with the song. One particular song, in fact: Meredith Brooks' "I'm A Bitch". Suddenly I couldn't get it out of my mind, no matter how desperately I tried to concentrate on how blissfully comfortable I was, lying recumbent by the fire with not a care in my world.

I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change

Go away, Meredith! I don't hate my world today; I'm a very happy woman. In fact, I don't remember ever being happier. Except for having 40 pound eyelids, which I would deal with the moment-the very moment-I was forced at gunpoint to do so. Not now, though. Certainly not now when I was deliciously pleased with the world in general, and my own creature comforts in particular.

Meredith kept shrilly bragging about being a bitch. And I certainly agreed with her, she was annoying the hell out of me, that was for damned certain! Not enough for me to move, though; certainly not enough for me to get up and take her on, woman to woman. Just enough for me to agree with her boast that she was definitely a real grade A bitch.

"Fuck you," I mumbled, my voice coming from far away and sounding low and mean. Hear that, Meredith? I can be a bitch, too! Now shut the fuck up and let me go back to sleep or…or…I'll…whatever. Just not now.

"Babe?"

The voice sounded like liquid sex, and a jolt of pleasure raced through my body as I stifled a yawn and tried to nestle closer to the roaring fire, which unbelievably seemed to be rolling away from me. God, that Babe was a lucky woman! Wonder if he looked anywhere near as hot as he sounded?

I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change

"Fuck off, Meredith! I'm warning you!" I snarled, fed up to the gills with the pushy bitch.

"Babe? Who's Meredith?"

The fire abruptly died, and I shivered as I lay naked in front of the hearth. "Put another log on the fire," I ordered, shivering under the covers. I'd gone from toasty warm to freezing in the space of a minute. It was all that bitch Meredith's fault, I just knew it.

"Steph? Babe? Come on, Steph, it's time to get up now."

"MMMMM?" Now I was confused. Get up? The liquid sex voice was insistent, and I felt a shiver of pleasure when warm lips met my bare shoulder.

I struggled mightily, curious to see if the hunk looked as good as he kissed and as he sounded. I managed to pry one 40 pound eyelid open, and was rewarded with the sight of what had to be the sexiest man on the planet, in his full naked glory, leaning over my prone form.

"Yowza!" I purred. "You're hot!"

"Thanks, Babe," he laughed. "You're dead to the world, aren't you?"

"Do I know you?" I fought bravely with the other massively weighty eyelid, and victorious, managed to peer stupidly at the Naked Hunk, who had a smile on his gorgeous face that seemed all-too-familiar. "I do know you, don't I? I'm sure I do."

"Definitely. And in the Biblical sense," he confirmed.

"Damn, I got lucky last night!" I congratulated myself. Then I went to sit up, only to realize I was naked as the day I was born. And dizzy as hell. "Wow! Get the name of that fuckin' bus that hit me!" I demanded.

"Time to get up, Babe," Naked Hunk insisted. He was easy on the eyes, but damned if he wasn't beginning to annoy me almost as much as Meredith The Bitch had!

"Why?" I pouted. "Get back in bed and let's get Biblical again." I was beginning to realize that he was the fireplace that'd kept me so warm in my dreams. I need more Naked Hunk, Biblical or not. But preferably Biblical. I'm such a nymphomaniac.

He laughed a low husky laugh that sent my pulse into overdrive, "God, Steph, I love you." I'd clearly spoken out loud yet again.

"You do?" I brushed a long lock of wildly curly hair out of my eyes, and began to yawn. "Oh fuck, not again!"

Meredith was back, shriller than ever.

I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change

"Shut the fuck up, Bitch!" I snarled. "Or I'll take you down piece by piece."

"Your phone's been ringing off and on for the last 15 minutes, Babe. That's what woke me up. I think your girlfriends are missing you."

Shit. Meredith Brooks' Bitch was Tina's personalized ring tone. And trust me, it fit her perfectly.

"What time is it, anyway, Soldier?" I moaned, the whole of last night and the early morning hours crashing down around my head right about now.

"Oh, so you do remember me after all?" He sounded amused.

"I remember that," I pointed at his very prominent morning wood. "A lot of that."

"Babe."

"Did we make all twelve fantasies?" I honestly wasn't sure right about now. Not that I was complaining, mind you. I was totally exhausted but happily so.

He nodded, "Sure did. You don't remember? I'm crushed."

"Give me a minute," I sighed, rubbing my eyes and smacking my lips as I tried desperately to get the morning started. "Wait, I remember we played doctor, right?"

He gave me a wolf grin, "Yep. I gave you some very special care for that ache between your legs."

I blushed, remembering, "You sure did, Superman! Hand me that damned phone, will you please? And if you have a gun handy, could you loan it to me for a minute? I want to take care of Tina before she drives me fucking insane with that damned phone."

"No gun, Steph, you'll wake up the other guests on the floor. And with the noise you were making last night, they all need their rest."

Another blush. "I was kind of….noisy. Wasn't I?" An unpleasant thought began to settle.

"The people next door called the front desk twice," Carlos confirmed with a wicked grin, "I had to do some fast talking or we'd both have been tossed out on our ear on and about 5 a.m. Thanks to you, Babe. You were very vocal in your….pleasure."

"Oh, shit, I can't ever come back here again," I groaned. "What the hell time is it anyway?"

"Just before 8," he answered, "I think we got a grand total of two hours sleep, give or take."

"Crappity, crap, crap! I look like hell, don't I?" I took the phone from his hand and stared at it. "What did I want this for, anyway?" I honestly wasn't sure. Of anything.

"Your friend's been calling. Probably Tina, right?" Carlos reminded me. "God, you look tired, Babe. Wish I could let you sleep in a bit longer, but we both have morning breakfast appointments, remember?"

"SHIT! Oh FUCK!" My eyes widened as I finally managed to process what today was and what I was supposed to do about it. Namely, meet Stella and the other bridesmaids for breakfast in the Queen Anne Room at 8 a.m. No wonder Tina was having a cow!

Just then, Meredith's anthem sounded again, and I winced as I answered Tina's summons.

"I know, I'm late." So much for trying to stave off the scolding.

"Where the hell are you, Stevie?" Tina's voice was strident. "We're all standing right outside your room, and you're nowhere to be found! We're supposed to be having breakfast at 8, and Stella is ready to cry. She's convinced you were murdered in your sleep by Ted Bundy or something."

"Oh for crying out loud! Drama queen, much! I'm in Carlos' room up on the 8th floor," I scrambled out of bed and began hurriedly shoving my scattered lingerie and stilettos into my overnight bag one-handed. "I just woke up, okay? I'm fine, I'll be down in a few minutes, just everybody chill, okay?"

"Why did you go upstairs, anyway?" Tina's voice was grating on my nerves, my head was pounding and I wanted to throw up from my sudden racing around the room. I was sooooo not in the mood for a wedding breakfast. Hell, I was so not in the mood for a wedding, period. "You were in your room when we saw you last night, why on Earth did you leave? I told you we weren't going to listen in while you got yourself fucked senseless. We were getting ready to call the front desk and have them unlock the door to your room. Did I say that Stella was certain you were hacked to bits and scattered all over the place?"

"Stella watches too many CSI reruns," I snapped, grabbing the digital camera away from Carlos who had aimed it in my direction. "Gimme that!"

"Give you what?" Tina's voice was clueless.

"Not you, I mean Carlos," I yelped, narrowly avoiding a slap on my naked backside as he decided to get playful. "Gimme that, it's not funny, Carlos!"

"What's not funny?" Tina was side-tracked, "What's he doing anyway?"

"Trying to take my picture again," I huffed, sending him a Burg death glare.

"That's so cute." Tina cooed. "He wants a picture of you!"

"No, it's not cute, I'm naked," I snapped, hearing her catch her breath and wincing as she then launched into a round of 20 Questions.

"Is he naked? Did you take X rated pics of each other? Can I see them? Did you get any sleep at all last night or did you boff each other's brains out? Did you get through the whole box of condoms? How did you end up in his room? Were you-"

"ENOUGH!" I wailed, "I have a headache, okay? Keep it down! We fucked all night and into the morning, if you have to know. I look like shit. I feel like shit. I got no sleep at all. Or like two hours worth. No doubt about it, I am going to be the most humiliated bridesmaid ever! I have hickeys all over me, Tina. No kidding. All over me."

"OMIGOD!" Tina's voice was so loud I almost dropped the phone, "OMIGOD! You don't!"

"I do," I ran into the bathroom and examined myself under the unforgiving lights. It was even worse than I recalled. "Oh, fuck it all, Tina! I can't wear a halter dress looking like this! My throat and my shoulders are covered in hickeys!" I glared at Carlos, who unapologetically winked at me as he disappeared into the shower. Damned man!

"Well, it's a good thing Stella sprung for a professional makeup artist," Tina reassured me. "Get your ass down here fast so we can go eat. Because Nikki's going to need every minute she can get to make you half-way presentable. The photographer's due at 11 and we need hair, makeup and manis and pedis."

"Oh God," I swayed on my feet, "Why me?" Annie Slotskovich's daughter Donna doesn't show up for wedding photos covered in 1001 hickeys and looking like she stayed awake all night fucking non-stop. I swear, I could hear my mother's voice as she berated me.

"Aren't you glad I talked you into that Victoria's Secret lingerie?" she asked excitedly. "Did he tear it off you? Do you have any left to wear for the wedding?"

Oh, shit! I almost didn't. I vaguely recalled protesting as Carlos ripped off the ice blue matching halter bra and panties that I'd bought especially to wear with the gown. I had one pair of panties left: a red thong. Oh shit! It would look just lovely peeking through the ice blue silk bridesmaid's gown I was supposed to wear this afternoon!

"I'm so screwed," I groaned unhappily.

"Well, you were," Tina's irrepressible voice answered me. "Come on downstairs, girl, ASAP and we'll figure something out. Just remember, you promised me all the raunchy details and I'm going to hold you to it. Every single one of them!"

Wonderful! I sighed, hanging up just moments before Carlos' hand pulled me into the shower for his own very special brand of Good Morning. Forgotten, my cell phone clattered onto the counter, as I was swept up into powerful arms that made me forget all about anything and everything else but how good it was to be me!

CHAPTER 27

Okay, so I'd changed my mind, now that I'd had a few delicious orgasms in the shower, courtesy of Carlos' magic fingers. (Unfortunately, we had no condoms, so we'd been unable to do what we both wanted to do. You can guess what that was, can't you?) Nope, now that I stared at my image in the bathroom mirror, The Hair From Hell in full display and hickeys everywhere…some new ones added, damn it all...I decided it was not fun at all to be Stephanie Plum today. Particularly if poor Stephanie was going to be immortalized on film looking like crappity, crap, crap. Which I did. In spades.

"I can't go to this wedding, Carlos. I look like shit."

"You look great, Babe. Very sexy."

"You're a lousy liar, Superman, but I appreciate the effort."

"Didn't you say there was a makeup person coming for the bridal party?"

"A makeup artist, not a magician."

"And someone to do your hair, right? You'll be fine, Babe. You worry too much."

"I can't believe you didn't bring another dress for me to wear back to my room! I have to go downstairs dressed like a slut, looking like a slut and feeling like a…slug."

"I can order some coffee, but you said you were already late, so-"

On cue, my cell began trilling "Bitch" again. I sighed, picking it up and biting the bullet.

"Where the fuck are you, Stevie? You said you were on your way! How, via Siberia? You know, we're all gathered outside your door waiting for you to make an appearance. Stella's a nervous wreck, and I'm ready to strangle you because you're up there probably getting fucked yet again by that hot man of yours while I'm down here getting an enormous headache from her non-stop sobbing. She's convinced something terrible must have happened to you, and no one can talk her out of it."

"Seeing me isn't going to help her relax, unfortunately. I look like I've been rode hard and put away wet. My hair is a mess, I have hickeys on top of my hickeys-"

"That's why we have Nikki and Heather! Get your ass down here now, Stevie! Do not pass Go, do not collect $200-we're already late for breakfast and I want to know everything about last night! You promised, remember?"

"Fine, fine, I'm coming. Hold your horses, I just got out of the frickin' shower, okay?"

"I'm putting Stella on right now. Tell her you're alive."

"Don't you dare put-Hi, Stella! Happy Wedding Day!"

Carlos' eyebrow lifted, and I could see him listening in as we both dressed. He was dressing in yet another all black ensemble, and although he looked tired, he looked very sexy. It really wasn't fair, men looked sexy, tired or not; women on the other hand just looked like hell.

"Where are you, Stevie? Are you okay? Why aren't you in your room like you were last night? What happened, and tell me the truth! Did he force you to go upstairs?"

"No, of course he didn't force me to go upstairs. Why would he?"

Carlos mouthed the words, "The bride thinks I kidnapped you?" He seemed amused.

I nodded assent, and launched into an assurance to my friend the worried bride that I was fine, unhurt, and that I'd be there in front of her in only minutes. I suggested they all go on to the Queen Anne Salon and start breakfast, but no-Stella was adamant: she wanted to see me ASAP. And so, alas, my secret plan to hide in my room and miss breakfast was dashed.

I hung up, sighing deeply, and met Carlos' warm brown eyes. "I almost scored a nap before the wedding. But unfortunately, they're on to me. Now I need to go down and change my clothes for breakfast before I get tossed out of the hotel like last night's trash."

"Babe," he hugged me, "You are gorgeous; you look a little bit tired, but that's all. You're going to be the most beautiful bridesmaid in the world."

I snorted, "Then the world is in major trouble, is all I can say."

Damn! I had no moisturizer, no makeup (other than a tube of lip gloss tucked in my purse), no hair product to tame my out of control mane, no clip or ribbon to tie it back, no toothbrush, no underwear other than a red thong I was saving to wear for the wedding, and I had a red spandex tube top dress that barely covered my unmentionables and 4-inch black snakeskin stilettos. Great, I was officially a Skanky Ho!

Carlos and I rode down the elevator in silence, both of us desperately trying to close our eyes and catch a few ZZZZZs. I'd already suffered my morning humiliation courtesy of Mr. Higgenbottom, who'd unbelievably opened his door to welcome the room service cart just as Carlos and I passed by his room. Wonderful. His beady little eyes missed nothing. I was still wearing last night's hooker ensemble and looked beyond slutty. I hoped to hell he was in the bowling tournament and thus would be leaving NJ after today. The last thing I needed was for him to run into my mother and ask if I'd been in Newark this weekend, or if I really had a twin on the skanky side.

Carlos carried my overnight bag and as the doors opened on the 4th floor I reached over to take it from him. Surprisingly, he shook his head and indicated that he'd follow me out the door.

"You don't have to-"

"Babe, I'm here for moral support. Besides, your girlfriend thinks I'm Jack the Ripper, so I want to reassure her I'm not. Otherwise she'll never let you hear the end of it."

"Thank you," I whispered, knowing he was right. And desperately needing the moral support.

"You worry too much what other people think about you, Babe."

"I know-I'm a big wimp."

"You're anything but, Steph! You're Wonder Woman, remember? Wonder Woman doesn't care what anyone thinks, she just behaves the way she wants to and damn the consequences!"

"Wonder Woman doesn't have my mother. And nosy girlfriends who are going to want all the details about last night."

At this Carlos blanched pure white. "All the details?"

So Superman did have nerves, after all? I giggled, "Not that they're getting them, Carlos. But yes, they'll all ask. And then I'll have to play 20 Questions on no sleep. And try to walk down the aisle when I can barely stand upright, thanks to you."

Carlos reached over and pulled me into his arms for a hug, "I programmed my number into your cell phone, Babe. Call me if you need me; I'll give you a pep talk before you start down the aisle. Remind you why you're in the shape you're in and how you're all mine for the rest of the weekend."

I couldn't keep the goofy grin off my face at that thought. "I can't wait," I sighed. Then I blurted, "And get more condoms! A lot more!"

I won a huge wolf grin in response, before his eyes widened at the sight that awaited us.

"There she is!" A loud voice cried, and the mob-and it truly was a mob, by this point-that had gathered in front of my room began to surge en masse towards us. I opened my mouth to reply, but honestly I couldn't come up with a thing to say. I was too busy trying to process the fact that a dozen or so women were heading in our direction, Stella at the lead. I'm ashamed to confess that I froze like a deer in the headlights.

"What the hell?" Carlos said, under his breath. "You work with this lunatic herd of estrogen?"

I nodded weakly, before becoming enveloped in a big bear hug that only a just-rescued hostage or a newly-discovered relative deserved. I weaved on my feet, the press of bodies getting to be too much; Carlos moved to my side to keep me upright.

"Stella, honey, please! Let me go. I'm fine! Truly! I'm just tired, okay? I have to get into my room and change my clothes before we have to go-"

Stella, unfortunately, had by this time gotten a good, long close look at me-and as I've said, it wasn't pretty. And as a bride who'd clearly paid a frickin' fortune for a photographer who was going to record for posterity how abysmal her over-sexed bridesmaid looked, she wasn't a happy camper. My previously sympathetic friend morphed instantly into Bridezilla.

"Look at you! Oh my God! Stevie! Just-just-look at yourself! You're going to ruin my wedding!" she snarled. And snarled is a very apt description, trust me! "How could you?"

"How could she not?" blurted her cousin Moira, who'd just spotted Carlos and damned near passed out in dizzy glee. "Look at him! How in the hell could she say no to him? He's so smoking hot he's on fire! Oh Lordy Mama!"

Carlos was now the complete center of attention, half of the ladies present having heard all about him but not yet having had the opportunity to see him. Even those who had, I suspect, were swept off their feet once again. The man, as I said before, was drop-dead gorgeous and sexy beyond belief. I in fact had to keep pinching myself to remind myself that he was all mine. Biblical and otherwise. Yowsa, Stevie, girl: you done goooooood!

Mr. Smoking Hot was at his charming best, and I watched as he flashed a slow smile at Stella and began congratulating her on her special day as he gave me a tiny nod of the head to tip me off to the fact that I was to make my escape into my room while the getting was good. I grabbed my overnight bag and scooted while Carlos braved the 'herd of estrogen' and made conquests of each and every woman there.

This is where one would think I had gotten lucky, right? Wrong. Because I didn't need to reach into my purse for my key card to get into my room. Nope. It was wide open. And why would that be, I hear you asking yourselves? Because, damn it all to living hell and beyond, the frickin ass hotel maid was there in my room! I had feared this moment ever since we'd decimated the room last night, trashed the sheets with chocolate and cheesecake and just about everything else. And Carlos had torn the pillowcase to make a loincloth, and we'd left Magnum XXL condom wrappers everywhere and oh my God Almighty what else?

It was the moment of truth.

"Hi," I mumbled, trying my damnedest to look innocent amidst the hedonistic remainder of the room. "How ya doin'?"

Great, Steph. Way to go. How ya doin'? You can't come up with anything more intelligent than that? Idiot.

The maid, who resembled my mother so closely I'd almost thought it was Ellen Plum, gave me a look that clearly said, "I know what you did here and you're a Grade A Ho." Then she wheeled the cart out into the hallway and caught sight of Carlos, who had miraculously tamed the entire crazy herd of women in only minutes. Then the maid looked over at me, and I swear-I swear-she moaned in appreciation and mouthed what looked to me like, "You lucky bitch!"

I was red as a lobster by this time, not just from the hickeys, and I tried to distract myself by grabbing a jersey knit dress that matched my eyes and a pair of heels that made me look less like a streetwalker and more like a nice innocent girl. With hickeys everywhere.

"I've got to take off now, Babe," Carlos tried-unsuccessfully-to maneuver past Tina, who had followed me into the room and was getting ready to start pumping for details. "Have fun at the wedding. I'll call you later, Babe."

Tina's eyes followed him hungrily as I brushed past her and pulled him into a long deep kiss, then waved goodbye as he sauntered down the hotel corridor as if he hadn't just caused a tsunami of female lust.

"That is one exceptionally fine looking hunk of man," Tina announced. She slammed the door behind her, examined me closely and pronounced, "And clearly he fucks as well as he looks. You're a mess, you lucky girl."

"Didn't I tell you?" I wailed, "I just can't be in the wedding looking like this!"

"Nikki is a miracle worker, trust me! She made Daffy Daphne's tattoos disappear when she got married in a strapless gown, so she'll make your hickeys go poof! too, don't worry about it. And Heather will tame your hair-I take it that Carlos the Magnificent did the packing, or else you'd never have forgotten your hair products."

"He did, and that's another problem. A big one! Never mind how it happened," I tried bravely, "but the result is that all I have to wear is a red thong. I know you got some goodies at Victoria's Secret-can I buy a pair of panties from you?"

"Sweetie, I've got you covered. Literally," she grinned, "And no charge. I'm gonna get paid by listening to the details of how you lost $75 in panties in one night."

I shook my head, knowing she'd get most of the details out of me (as I'd have pried them out of her), "Good, would you-"

"Got it," she replied, and darted from the room to get the panties.

I used the time to slather myself with moisturizer, apply 10 lbs of hair product, about 20 lbs of makeup (mostly on the hickeys), and by the time she returned, I felt much more confident that I could manage not to completely make a fool of myself in the wedding. Surely if Nikki could get rid of Daphne's biker tattoos, she could make my ever-growing collection of hickeys disappear! And she could take care of the steamer trunks under my eyes. God, did I need coffee…and a makeup magician!

Tina was back, bearing gifts: a pair of ice blue panties that would perfectly match the gown, and three pair of soft pastel colored panties that she handed to me with a reminder that I wasn't checking out of the hotel until Monday morning-and an observation that she could see the red thong through the blue material of my dress.

"You're a lifesaver, Tina," I hugged her then darted into the bathroom with a pair of blue panties. I'd rethought my choice of dresses, seeing exactly what Tina had, but I'd bought this dress especially for the bridal breakfast, and I wanted to wear it. Now, thanks to my BFF, I could.

I'd decided to share some of the details of the night with her, knowing not only that she'd earned them but also that she'd be relentless in dragging them out of me; but as it turns out, I shared more than I'd intended. How did that happen, you wonder? Oh, take a guess! Trust me, you'll never see this one coming: I sure as hell didn't, and I lived it.

"OMIGOD! You tied him up and fucked him senseless?" Tina's voice was awe-struck and envious at the same time. "Then you made him your sex slave? Omigod, omigod, omigod! Stevie, you absolutely rock!"

I made it out of the bathroom in two nanoseconds, but not quickly enough to stop Tina from reading the next piece of paper she'd snatched from the desk, where the frickin' ass maid had picked up the strewn fantasies she'd found-read them (which I refused to think about at the moment)-then deposited them in a neat pile on the desk. Where Tina found them, and was, even as I shrieked in mortification, making her way through the pile in incredulous delight.

"A naughty schoolgirl? Did he spank you? I bet he did," Tina whooped, "Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!"

"Gimme those!" I lunged for her and she darted back, reading greedily as I chased her around the room in frantic horror.

Thank God we'd missed meeting the maid cleaning Carlos' room. But I should have thought of the damned fantasies we'd written out down here in my room! Carlos had picked them up from his room and tucked them into his pocket, with a wink that promised he'd be thinking of them through the day. But I swear to God, I never thought of the hotel maid reading the ones in my room and then leaving them stacked neatly on the desk. But I guess she figured we'd be using them again: I had noticed she'd left twice as many towels this time! And an extra pillowcase…

"Stevie, you lucky devil! The man has quite an imagination. And from what I've read, so do you! The Wizard of Ahhhs? Omigod, you finally got your Doomsday Orgasm, didn't you?"

"Several times," I admitted, then grinned. "He rocked my world, Tina! In more ways than one. He's The One. The man I've waited my whole life for. I love him, he loves me. He's going to war, but he's coming back to me. He promised. And I'm spending the whole weekend with him, so I'm not going into the City with you all tomorrow."

"I'm happy for you, Stevie," Tina's eyes watered, "Didn't I tell you last night that you'd get your happily ever after? I could feel it when I saw the way the man was looking at you! He's crazy in love with you, girl!"

"I don't believe it myself, sometimes. I mean, I wasn't looking for love. You know what I said: I was off men for good after Dick The Prick. And I meant it. Then I bumped into Carlos-literally bumped into him in the bar. And that was it. I fell, head over heels."

"Love at first sight?" asked Tina, wistfully.

"More like lust at first sight," I corrected, "But when we went upstairs, he ordered dinner for us and we started talking and then we started…well, you read the fantasies. You know what we started doing. And doing. It was incredible. I mean, there are no words for how I feel about the man."

Tina finished reading, then handed them over. "Tuck these away, Sweetie. Save them and read them while he's gone. Like a….I don't know…a postcard memory, or something."

I bit my lip, eyes watering as I held the stack of papers tightly, "Carlos saved his, you know. From when we went upstairs," I explained. "He put them in his pocket and said he was going to think of them today."

"There you go," Tina smiled, "He's crazy about you. And incredibly, he had Bridezilla eating out of his hand in no time. He managed to clear the hall and get the mob to head downstairs…where we need to be, I remind you!"

"So let's go," I slipped my necessities into a new purse, and we made our way to the Queen Anne Salon. Slowly.

Tina giggled wickedly, "You should see how you're walking. Like you just climbed off a horse after a 12 hour marathon ride."

I groaned, "I did." And I was feeling every moment of it as I tried unsuccessfully to close my legs and walk normally. Did I say I was confident I wasn't going to make a fool out of myself in the wedding? I lied. I was so going down.

"How big a horse are we talking? Thunder the Wonder horse big?"

"Bigger."

"You're shittin; me!"

"I swear to God. He's enormous."

"Looks, imagination, sex appeal, charm, huge cock, skill to use it. Okay, what's Mr. Perfect missing? He has to have some kind of flaw. A wife and 10 kids hidden away somewhere?"

"Nope."

"Stella watched 'A Criminal Mind' on cable late last night. After we gave up on 'Naked Came The Stranger'."

"More porn? What's 'A Criminal Mind'?"

"It's the reason she's so damned jumpy, and convinced Carlos was a sex maniac who'd dragged you upstairs and chopped you into tiny pieces."

"I don't get it."

"Some L.A. nut job picked up a woman in a bar and took her upstairs and made mincemeat of her in a hotel-"

"Stella was watching this by choice?"

"At 3 a.m. it was either that or an infomercial with Joan Rivers selling her brand of face cream."

"Holy shit!"

"My sentiments exactly. Talk about nightmares."

"So this guy in California killed this woman and-"

"And they didn't catch him until he'd done it seven other times across the country. They have him on Death Row in Texas and they were doing an interview with him on why he did what he did."

"Which was?"

"He was a nut job, I told you," Tina sighed, "But he looked hot. I mean, Brad Pitt hot. So Stella sees this, ruminates on it while she sleeps, calls your room first thing this morning and gets no answer."

"And is convinced, what? That the nut job had a twin in NJ?"

"Something like that. Her nerves are fried anyway, what with the wedding today. She's a bundle of hormones. She cries at the drop of a hat, so-"

"Wonderful," I groaned, as the elevator deposited us on the second floor and we headed to the Queen Anne Salon to meet our friends. "I can't keep my eyes open, I can't walk, I look like hell and feel even worse. And I don't dare say a word to the bride lest she start crying up a monsoon and her eyes puff up so badly that Nikki can't fix it."

"That about sums it up," Tina laughed, "I was so ready to bat her in the head, she was doing Niagara Falls and I couldn't stand a minute more of it. She was pounding on your door, shouting, and she drew a crowd. You're lucky she didn't notify Hotel Security and send out a search party."

"Oh, Christ. That's all I'd have needed. Hey! Guess who's here at the hotel? I'll give you a hint: x + y = z."

"Algebra?"

"Miss Minardo, stop chewing gum immediately. You resemble a cow chewing grass and I do not teach bovine Algebra."

"Good old Fred Higgenbottom? I thought he was dead!"

"Nope, he's alive. Like 102 and he looks just as frightening as he did when we had him sophomore year of high school. And guess who spotted yours truly looking like I was when you saw me. Or even worse."

"I don't need a hint. Fred Higgenbottom!"

"With the little Mrs. Who, by the way, damned near fainted at the sight of Carlos shirtless."

"She wouldn't be the only one." Tina drooled, "He's ripped, huh?"

"Not an ounce of fat anywhere on his body," I sighed dreamily, "Not an ounce anywhere."

"I take it you've seen anywhere enough to memorize the sight of it…."

"I've seen, touched and tasted anywhere and anything," I grinned wickedly, "And I earned every damned hickey I got."

"I hate you, you lucky bitch."

"No you don't. You're living vicariously through me."

"Damned straight I am. So how many orgasms did vicarious me have last night?"

"Too damned many to count. But vicarious you is deliciously satisfied and so not looking forward to this damned wedding. I dread putting on that gown."

"Forget the gown, Sweetie, it's the damned hair wreath I'm dreading."

"No one could talk her out of it? I was trusting Ruby and Melinda."

"They tried their best, trust me. But Stella's holding firm to it. We're going to look like damned fools with wreaths of flowers and streaming ribbons in our hair, but that's what we get for agreeing to be bridesmaids in the first place."

"At least this dress is prettier than the one Kelly picked out for her bridesmaids. Remember that one?"

"God, do I ever! And the ugly ass taxi cab yellow bow hanging off my boobs! Whoever designed that dress deserves a slow painful death."

"There is a special level of hell for designers who hate women and design dresses anyway."

"Preach it, Stevie!"

We'd arrived at the doors of the Queen Anne Salon by now, and Tina gave me a conspiratorial wink, "I got your back, Sweetie!"

And she did. Always. That's what friends are for.

CHAPTER 28

Carlos' POV

I had a busy day ahead of me, but I'd started it perfectly, waking up spooned with Stephanie in front of me, my body molded to hers and my arm around her waist. I'd set the alarm on my watch for 7 a.m., but had been-uncharacteristically for me-too lazy to get out of bed then. Instead, I'd just lain there for almost an hour, breathing her in, listening to her soft moans-I was sure her dreams were of me because I'd heard my name on her lips several times-and thinking about what I needed to do to keep her safe and protected while I was gone. I'd made some important decisions and today I intended to implement them. Not that Stephanie would know a thing about it. But that was the point- I wanted Stephanie safe and well while I was gone. And cared for, in the all-too-likely event that I could not return to her.

I'd planned to visit with some Army buddies for breakfast, then meet with my lawyer to update my Will. Fortunately for me, my attorney is almost a brother to me. Mateo is the eldest son of one of my mother's two sisters. I'd gone to live with their family when my father had thrown me out of the house over the gang fight that had landed me in Juvie Hall. I'd lived with them for almost six years before I finally joined the Army and straightened myself out. Mateo had become more than a cousin to me, he was my second brother, and I trusted him more than I trusted anyone to do what I'd decided was necessary now that Stephanie was my woman.

After coffee and a long discussion, with my Will updated and some legal issues addressed, Mateo and I would then head to my parents' house for the Mañoso family gathering. My mother and grandmother, I was certain, were already cooking for the legion of people who would assemble this afternoon. My five siblings had all married and had children, and although my father was an only child, my mother had been one of four, so her brother and sisters and their families would also be there. It was common to have close to 50 people at a family gathering, and it usually got pretty loud and lively. I hoped to hell I could stay awake for it. I desperately needed coffee because the two hours or so of sleep I'd had were definitely not enough. But, damn, it had been worth it!

I thought of Steph again, naked and begging me to make love to her, and I smiled happily. Happily. What a concept! Me, happy? Smiling ear to ear? Amazing. I would be lucky if my Army buddies recognized this man; I had a well-earned reputation as a bad ass who could make grown men cry with just a look. I didn't feel like a bad ass today, though. I felt lighter, mellower, like I'd shed 50 lbs of worry and had the whole world at my feet. I was in love for the first time in my life, with a woman who was my soul mate. A strong woman who meant more to me than she could possibly know. I didn't deserve her, but I sure as hell was going to spend the rest of my life earning the privilege of being her man.

They were standing by the entrance to the hotel's restaurant when I stepped off the elevator, and I walked over to them briskly. The four men who'd agreed to meet me this morning were good friends from my days with Army Special Forces, before I'd gone on to Delta Force a few years ago. They all had family in the Newark area, and, having just returned from various assignments overseas, were taking a couple of weeks of R&R before heading back to Fort Bragg, NC to the Headquarters that Special Forces and Delta Force shared. I was glad to see them and they were just as pleased to see me.

We shook hands, having not seen each other in many long months and walked into the restaurant to enjoy breakfast. All were about my age and we'd bonded early on because we shared the same Cuban heritage and were all from the same area of northern NJ. I'd been guests at their families' dinner tables numerous times over the years and had been welcomed as an honorary brother. They were good men; I was fortunate to know them.

"You look damned good, Superman. Better than I expected, honestly. I heard about how FUBAR'd your last mission was." Antonio assessed me critically, as he was trained to do. "Rodriguez bought it?"

I nodded, "Ricky and a lot of other good men. Just a handful of us got out alive, and we were damned good and lucky. If I ever find the son of a bitch who screwed up the Intel, I'll kill him with my bare hands."

"You'd have to wait in a long line to do that," Miguel replied, "Sanchez and Avila were fine men. They both had young families; Juan was just about to become a father for the second time. Luisa is having a rough time of it, they thought she was going to lose the baby for a bit there."

"God damn suits! What the fuck do they know about the guys on the ground? Not a damned thing," muttered Javier.

"They don't know their asses from their elbows," groused Diego. "But I think maybe Superman would rather not be reminded of all this right now, considering he has to ship out again on Monday?" He looked to me for confirmation and I nodded.

"You just finished a mission, why the hell are they sending you out again so soon?" Miguel asked. "You should have some R&R. What's the big hurry?"

"Something I've been following for awhile," I replied quietly, knowing he understood the sensitive nature of the information, "Suffice to say some recent developments moved up the timetable on a long-standing plan. This is going to be a bad one, though. Very bad." It was my way of saying that this might be the last time we'd ever meet. There was a moment of silence, and all the men nodded. Enough said.

The waitress approached to take our orders, and we were served coffee immediately. Thank God. I needed it badly. I wondered how Steph was faring at her bridal breakfast, and I guess I must have gotten an uncharacteristic spacey look on my face because Miguel interrupted, "Hey! Superman! You still with us?"

I nodded, smiling. That's what did it: the smile. The men knew me well, and never, I mean never, did I smile. But I couldn't stop smiling at the thought of my time with Steph last night, this morning briefly in the shower, and the anticipation of our time together tonight and through to Monday morning. Suddenly I wasn't thinking about much else. I was trying to design the perfect day for us to share on Sunday. A day that would give us 18 months worth of memories.

"Yeah, what's up, Carlos?" Antonio pressed. "You look…tired, sure, but there's something else. You're…"

"Happy," I finished for him, seeing the surprise on the faces of all of my friends. "Very happy. The happiest I've ever been in my life, in fact. I'm in love with an incredible woman."

"In love? You?" Miguel's voice was incredulous. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

"Superman?" Diego shook his head in confusion, "Mr. I-Don't-Do-Relationships? Love-'em-and-leave-'em Mañoso? I don't believe it."

"No joke," I said firmly, "I love her, she loves me, and when my tour of duty is over, she's going to be my wife. And one day, God willing, she'll be the mother of my children. Stephanie Mazur Mañoso. And I need your help with something to keep her safe while I'm gone."

There was a moment while everyone adjusted to the admittedly-incredible concept of me as a married man. Hell, I couldn't blame them. Then Antonio said quietly, "Whatever you need. Name it." The others nodded.

"Stephanie's got an ex-husband named Richard Orr. He's a lawyer in Chambersburg; shouldn't be too hard for you to find him. Apparently his divorce from Steph was a big event in town. Bastard cheated on her shortly after they married. He screwed some bimbo on their dining room table and Steph walked in on them. She raised holy hell about it and the marriage ended pretty publicly from what she says."

"He sounds like a real prick," Miguel interjected, "But I don't see what this has to do with Stephanie now. They got divorced, she moved on, clearly. Kids in the picture?"

"No," I sipped my coffee, "No kids. Thank God."

"What, then? He didn't move on?" Diego asked, "Is he stalking her?"

I shook my head, "Not that I know of. Or not yet, anyway, the divorce is very recent. He abused her physically and emotionally throughout the marriage. Financially screwed her, too. But Steph's mother adores him, the stupid bitch. Browbeats Steph constantly about Orr, how she was lucky to have married him, how she should take whatever he dishes out and be a loyal doormat… a woman's duty… that sort of thing."

"Fucking hell," Antonio muttered, "Some mother."

"Yeah," Miguel nodded, "I'm starting to get the picture, I think. You expect her mother to keep pushing Stephanie back to this guy and you want us to make sure it doesn't happen?"

"Something like that. There's more to it than I've told you," I exhaled, then quietly told them about the times Dickie had almost anally raped Steph. Physically abusing her afterwards. And the emotional blackmail of the visit to the parish priest that he'd set up to make Stephanie return to give the marriage another chance. The men looked murderous when I'd finished. "I want Dickie Orr to get payback for all of that. If I were going to be here after Monday, I'd do it myself. But I'll be gone for 18 months…"

"And you want the message to go out to Dickie…" Antonio said.

"Who the fuck still calls himself 'Dickie'? Fucking pussy," Miguel interrupted. "Gets off on terrorizing women? I'll be glad to teach Dickie a lesson."

"Me too," added Diego. "Sounds like he deserves to be taught to respect women."

"Count me in," Antonio agreed. "I gather we are to pass on the message that he is to stay away from your woman from now on?"

"That's what I want," I nodded, "I'd feel better if I were sure he was out of Steph's life."

"For good?" Javier questioned.

I knew what he was asking. "No," I shook my head, "I don't want him dead. Just hurt badly enough that he gets the message that what he did to Steph cost him dearly, and that he understands that it had better never happen again."

"Understood," Diego said quietly. "I can get the information on Orr's address with no problem, and the guys and I will pay him a little visit."

"Dickie will learn to stay far away from your woman, Carlos," Antonio promised me.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. I want her safe. She's the most important person in the world to me," I said, and meant it. Without Steph in it, my life wouldn't be worth living.

"Wow, I never thought I'd see the day that you of all people would be thinking marriage and kids," Diego smiled, "But hey, I can't think of anyone who deserves happiness more, Carlos."

"That's for sure," Antonio replied, "Superman, you've saved my ass more times than I can count. You've been there for me from day one in Special Forces, when I knew nobody and nothing. I've got your back in this. You want your lady Stephanie safe, she'll be safe."

"Amen," Miguel chimed in. "You've had my back for years, Carlos. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. So count me in on the Stephanie protection team."

"And me," Javier said, "I owe you more than I can pay back, so whatever it takes, I'm in."

"Stephanie Mazur, huh?" asked Diego. "So, what's she like? Gorgeous, that goes without saying. But what makes her so special?"

"She makes me laugh," I said softly, "She brings me joy. Until I met Steph, I had no idea what love meant. The 'till death do you part' kind of thing. I just couldn't grasp that concept. Spending the rest of your life with only one woman. Committing yourself totally to someone else, opening yourself up in ways you never have before with anyone…" I spoke softly, forgetting for a few minutes I was in the company of men who had never seen me emotionally vulnerable. "I didn't expect it. I didn't want it to happen because it wasn't convenient. But I love her and I want a life with her. So I'm trying to keep her safe and well until I get home to her again." I finished, looking sheepishly up at the group who were all staring at me in total shock.

"She's one hell of a woman," Antonio said, smiling.

"Damned straight," I replied, "Want to see her picture?"

There were eager nods all around, so I pulled out my camera phone and showed them the picture Stephanie had allowed me to take last night. She had posed in my shirt just after we'd made love, her face still rosy, hair mussed, her lips swollen from my kisses with a smile on them that made my heart beat double time. And those hot as hell over the knee boots that got me hard just thinking about her in them. It was a damned fine picture, and got the reception it deserved.

"Lucky bastard," sighed Javier.

"Holy mother of God," moaned Miguel.

"Dios," Antonio blew a slow breath out.

"Does she have a sister?" asked Diego.

"Yes, but she takes after her mother. Stepford wife type. Nothing like my Babe. Steph is fire and magic and excitement and…"

"Superman's definitely in love," Antonio laughed, "God, I never thought I'd see the day."

"Retiring the little black book," teased Javier.

"I want it," Miguel exclaimed. "Carlos attracts the hottest women, now that he's off the market, they're going to be very lonely."

"Not for you, though," Diego grinned. "Superman has special powers we mortal men can only dream of aspiring to."

I laughed, enjoying the teasing. My many sexual conquests were, after all, widely known among my friends. But now that I had Stephanie in my life, no other woman would do. Damn, that felt good to realize! I'd endured her herd of lust-filled co-workers with amusement, but honestly not one of them had held my attention for even one second. I was now officially and permanently a One-woman Man. And I loved the feeling!

The meal passed amicably, it was over too soon, and we rose to part. I paid for the breakfast, as was our tradition (whoever hosted paid the bill). We walked back to the lobby, drawing admiring glances from all of the women (and a few of the men) there. None of us wore Army uniforms or sported regulation military haircuts, because we were Special Forces. But I'm certain that our bearing gave away that we were military. We were all well muscled and in excellent shape, and walked with the confidence of those who knew they could take on any adversary and come out victorious. Hell, I'd even woken up, thanks to four cups of steaming hot coffee. How long I was going to be able to stay awake…that was a different story. It was going to be a long day at Casa Mañoso.

I was just saying goodbye to the last of my friends when Mateo arrived, an ear to ear grin on his face. We hadn't seen each other in almost twenty months because of my deployment and his busy schedule. We hugged briefly, and he stepped back to look at me.

"You look great," he opined, "Tired, but-"

"So I've just been told," I replied, remembering Antonio's comments. "You look well. Good to see you, Mat. It's been too long. Thanks for coming out before the big to-do. I wanted to get this done quietly, without Mama, Abuela and the girls knowing about it."

Mateo nodded, and we moved over to sit while I examined the legal papers I'd asked him to prepare.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Carlos?" he asked.

"Give you my legal power of attorney? And medical power of attorney as well? Positive. I trust you with everything, Mat. You know that."

I was paid well for my work, and had accumulated quite a nest egg thanks to my frugal living and my good investments. I dreamed one day of starting my own security company, in partnership with several Army buddies who were in Delta Force with me. Tank (whose real name was Pierre), Bobby, Lester and I had discussed it numerous times, and-provided we survived our tours of duty in Delta Force-one day we planned to make that dream a reality. Originally, the plan had been to open the office in Newark, where many of us had family. But for some reason, a gorgeous blue-eyed brunette came immediately to mind, Trenton was suddenly looking much more attractive to me than Newark.

"I'll be out of touch for 18 months or more after Monday morning," I told him, "But I need something important done before I leave. I need your help with it, Mat. I met a woman. The woman. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Mateo's expressive brown eyes widened, "You met someone? Who? When? No one's said a thing about it and I'd have heard."

"They don't know about her and I want to keep it that way," I said firmly. "I met Stephanie yesterday…"

"Yesterday?" Mateo's voice was incredulous. "And you…"

"I know what you're thinking, all of it," I interrupted. "And you're wrong. So save your breath. I know exactly what I'm doing. Steph's different than any woman I've ever met, Mat. Sexy and funny and sweet and loving and warm and smart and compassionate. And she makes me happier than I've ever been in my life. I love her. She loves me. When I get back, she and I are going to be married. She's It for me, Mat. The only woman I want for the rest of my life. Stephanie Mazur. In 18 months and one day-if I'm lucky-Stephanie Mazur Mañoso."

Mat sat there speechless. I'd never in my life opened up this much to him, or to anyone else. But I had no time. I needed his help and I needed it now. There was no time to debate the wisdom of my decisions, or for him to meet Stephanie and get to know her to form his own opinions about her. He just needed to take my word for it. And Mat, being Mat, did just that: he trusted my judgment, as I trusted his.

"I'm glad for you, Carlos. What do you need me to do?"

"I want to change the beneficiary on my insurance policies to Stephanie. And change my Will so that everything goes to her."

"But what I have here-" he picked up the document he'd drafted according to my request days earlier.

"I know, that leaves it all to be distributed equally to Mama, Papa, Alex and the girls. But I need you to change that. You have it there on your laptop, don't you?"

"Yeah, I can make the changes and print it out when we go to the party. Your father will let me use his printer, I can say it's an emergency. He won't have to know what the document is or who it's for, if that is how you want to play it."

"I'm thinking he will need to know," I said slowly, "I need to let Papa and Alex know how serious this particular mission is…"

Mat's eyes darkened, "Bad?"

"Let's just say, I need to get that Will updated before I leave Monday," I said, answering his question.

"God damn it all, Carlos! You just got back from an 18 month mission!"

"It's necessary, Mat, trust me. I have no regrets, it needs to be done. But I want Steph protected and cared for, should something happen to me. I need Papa and Alex and you to know how much Stephanie means to me, so that if the Will comes into play, no one is broad-sided by her name as my beneficiary."

"Except for your Mama, your Abuela and your sisters," Mateo reminded me, "And my Mama and the kids and-"

"It's necessary," I interrupted, "18 months is a hell of a long time, Mat. I know what I feel for Steph and what she feels for me will last that long. But if Mama or Abuela or the girls know I have someone, they'll make her life a living hell until I get back. They'll want to know everything about her, they'll interject themselves into her life and pull her into theirs-"

"And that's a bad thing? I know you aren't ashamed of your family," Mateo said, puzzled, "Don't you want your woman-Stephanie-to take her place in your family while you're gone?"

"Mat," I looked at him honestly, "Can you picture Mama with the news that I had my potential wife picked out the evening I first met her? That we met in a bar for a one night stand and that she isn't a bimbo, she's a sweet innocent girl-next-door with a body that happens to be to-die-for? Can you really picture Abuela Rosa or Celia with that information? Or Pilar? Maria? Lena? Any of the women in the family?"

"That's what happened?" Mateo bit his lip.

I told him an abridged and very sanitized version of my meeting with Stephanie and our evening together, and launched into a long rhapsodic dissertation on her exceptional splendor. Followed by a display of the shirt and boots picture.

Mateo's expressive eyes darkened, "You lucky bastard."

"Exactly." I smiled, "But the thing is-she's different. I thought I could walk away and never look back. Go off to war and probably never come back-" He started to interrupt, and I held up my hand. "That was the plan, and we both signed on for it. But somewhere early last night I changed, Mat. I mean changed. Overnight. I want a life with her. I'm going to have a life with her, no matter what it takes. She kicked my ass when I told her I couldn't commit to us because I was going to die over there. She won't let me, Mat! She won't let me give up. And she gives me the reason not to. She's-Christ, I never thought there was such a thing as a soul mate, let alone that I would ever meet her, but she is my soul mate. She's the other half of me, Mat. And I can't function on that mission without knowing for sure that Stephanie is safe and protected and cared for while I'm gone."

Mateo sat for a long moment digesting my uncharacteristic emotionalism. "Wow. I've known you all of my life, Carlos, and you've never said that many words at one time. Or spoken about any woman the way you speak about your Stephanie. She clearly is a hell of a woman."

"She is all that and more," I assured him.

"And I don't get to meet her?" Mateo said, wistfully. "I get she's off limits to the women-and frankly, I can see why. You're right, they'd be on her 24/7 the entire time you were gone. Watching, waiting for her to slip up. Worried she wasn't good enough for you. Or even worse-"

"Deciding she was and then ganging up against me when I get home," I grinned. "Look, I honestly believe that once the family gets to know Steph, they'll love her. They will. But there isn't time for that now. I want her to live her life without pressure from Mama and Abuela and the girls. And if she should decide that she's changed her mind about waiting for me, then I want her to be free to make that decision without their judgments getting in the way and making her feel guilty about it."

"But you don't think she will change her mind?"

"I know damned well she won't," I smiled, remembering our long deep conversations on the subject.

"You didn't answer my question about meeting Steph. If I promise not to fall in love with this paragon of womanhood, can I meet her before your wedding 18 months from now?"

"Depends on whether you can meet her and not mention that you're family," I decided, another thought coming into my mind. Or rather, an old thought from this morning taking on a new shape. "I need to tell Papa and Alex about her, and we both know they'll have even more reservations about her than you did."

"Very true," Mat said, knowing my Papa's old World ways quite well. "The story of how you met will need to change drastically."

I sighed, "For sure. But it has to be enough for them to understand that I don't want Steph pulled into the family or pressured to be a Vestal Virgin at the altar of the absent Saint Carlos."

"Only Abuela Rosa thinks of you that way," Mateo laughed.

"I was always her favorite," I grinned. "She's the one who'd be the most dangerous. If I ever told Abuela how I met Steph-"

"Yeah, got the picture," Mateo held up his hand, "It ain't pretty."

"No, it sure isn't," I agreed, "So what I'm thinking is this: she's got a wedding to attend today and a reception tonight-she's a bridesmaid, like I told you-but tomorrow I have her for the whole day."

"And night," Mateo teased. "Lucky bastard!"

I sure was, and he didn't know about the fantasies we'd lived out, either!

"I can take her to the restaurant for dinner tomorrow evening," I suggested. "You can pretend to accidentally run into us, and I'll introduce you as a friend. Our last names are different, she won't connect the two of us as family. And I can introduce Papa to her since he is the owner of Rosa's, and Alex is the chef. My Babe loves to eat, she'll go crazy over the food and then we can have Tomas say that the chef wanted to meet her."

Tomas was my older sister Celia's son, he worked at the family restaurant as a waiter. See, that's what I hadn't told Stephanie when I gave her the history of my family problems. I'd told her that my grandfather had started a business and that my father, as his only son, naturally went into the family business and expected his two sons to do the same. What I hadn't told her was that my grandfather was a gourmet chef and that he'd opened a Cuban restaurant that he'd named after his wife (my grandmother) Rosa. And that my father Ricardo took over the business duties so my grandfather could concentrate entirely on cooking. Alex was now the chef at Rosa's, with my father teaching him everything he could so that the restaurant would pass on the Mañoso family traditions of excellent food and fine dining. I, having no interest at all in cooking, was expected to take on the business duties in the restaurant so that Alex could train as a chef. I rebelled, and thus the feud that had continued until my grandmother had finally ended it upon my grandfather's death.

It had been a long four years since then, but we were moving closer to acceptance of each other's choices. Or, rather, my choice to plan a future outside of the family business. I was going to take a big chance introducing Stephanie into the mix, but I thought it was necessary. If anything happened to me, as was unfortunately likely, she was the one that I wanted to inherit all of the not-inconsiderable money I had accumulated. And Papa and Alex-with Mateo's help-were going to have to explain exactly who Stephanie was, to my Mama, my Abuela, my sisters and the rest of the interested parties in the Mañoso family. (Frankly, I'd better live through this mission in order to avoid that disastrous scenario alone.)

When I returned from my mission-hopefully well and healthy after 18 months in the Middle East-I would return to Steph's arms, make love to her for a minimum of 12 hours at least, then take her to my family and introduce her as the woman I loved. And invite them to the wedding that, in my mind at least, would happen 24 hours later. Okay, so I'm thinking with my heart not my head for the first time-cut me a break, here! I was playing out various scenarios in my head, and this seemed to me to be the best way to handle it. As I said, I didn't have much time-or much sleep-so I went with my gut. It usually was the right decision, and I prayed this time it would be the same.

Mateo looked at me as if I were out of my mind and asked incredulously, "And you really see your father and Alex both agreeing to this crazy plan of yours? Meeting Stephanie for a few minutes to discuss how great the meal was, and then saying 'Goodbye, stop in again sometime and be sure to recommend us to your friends.' And that's that?"

"It actually sounded a whole lot smarter when I first thought it up," I admitted sadly. But then I'd been running on two hours sleep at the time.

"I agree, you're damned right. They are going to insist on meeting Stephanie if you tell them about her and they've watched you sign a Will leaving her all of your worldly goods," Mateo exhaled. "So let's see what we have, here, shall we? We go to your parents' home. I ask if I can print out a document. While it's printing, you explain to your father and brother what it is and what it says. Then you sign the Will-hell, you can even let them witness it. Then you broker this ridiculous deal that they can meet Stephanie for a few minutes over dinner provided they don't tell her they're your family."

"And they don't tell Mama, Abuela and the girls about any of it," I added. "Yeah, best case scenario, that's how I see it going."

"Worse case scenario?" Mateo invited.

"I tell them about her, Papa calls me a damned fool and Steph a whore, I storm out in fury, Mama runs after me and tries to settle the fight while Alex looks pained and the girls press for details on what the hell is going on and who Stephanie Mazur is-"

"And Abuela Rosa takes Saint Carlito's side over everybody's. Until, that is, she learns Stephanie is your potential bride whom you met less than 24 hours ago and haven't introduced to the family-even though we're having a family gathering this afternoon and Stephanie is staying at the same hotel you are. And then all hell breaks loose and they all spend the next 18 months hunting down Stephanie Mazur and vetting her to decide if she is worthy of your hand in marriage."

"That about covers it," I agreed, a pained expression on my face. Shit.

"I'm now seriously rethinking the part about you being a lucky bastard," Mateo laughed, shaking his head. "Can I see that smokin' hot picture with the boots again?"

"Will you just change the damn Will and get this upcoming train-wreck on the tracks?" I groaned.

"It's gonna be a fun afternoon at Casa Mañoso," my cousin sighed.

As Steph would say: crappity, crap, crap!

And then some.

A/N: This chapter includes a discussion of some of the traditions of a Jewish wedding. I'm Catholic, this is my best effort of describing it, after internet research. Please forgive any inaccuracies.

CHAPTER 29

Stephanie's POV

"You are a true miracle worker," I sighed happily, as Nikki expertly covered all of my hickeys and then began work on the steamer trunks I carried under my eyes. Thanks to the three cups of coffee I'd consumed at the bridal breakfast, I was actually awake; thanks to Nikki's wizardry, I was actually beginning to be hopeful that I wouldn't be mortally embarrassed all day. I was so grateful I was ready to kiss her feet in gratitude-or at the very least, promise her my first-born child!

"Yes I am. But you, my dear….you are legend," Nikki grinned. "If I couldn't cover those hickeys of yours, you could always wear them as badges of honor. From all I heard from your friends, that man of yours has to be the hottest guy who ever walked the planet! Looks like you got your world rocked last night, and then some!"

I tried and failed to keep from beaming ear to ear, "Carlos is totally amazing."

"And more than worth the 20 or so minutes of sleep you managed to catch last night, huh?" Nikki stepped back to admire her handiwork with a smile.

I grinned back in relief. "I can't thank you enough," I said, for what had to be the dozenth time. "I was so sure I'd look like a slut and my mother would somehow hear about it, and then I'd be grounded for life." Or at the very least cut off from pineapple upside down cake, which would be even worse. Did I happen to mention that I love pineapple upside down cake?

"I advise you to main-line coffee and skip the alcohol," Nikki waved me out of the chair as Tina sat herself down for her makeup session. "And don't lean your face against your hand or you might fall asleep and topple face forward onto the table during the reception. That would ruin your makeup, and all my magic would be for naught."

"It's Tina's job to keep me wide awake throughout this wedding and the reception that follows," I decided, catching my best friend's knowing eye. "I promised her all of the dirty details of my night of sin. The least she can do to earn them is keep my poor tired ass awake."

"Works for me," Tina agreed, "So long as I get the XXX rated version, that is. And I know enough to tell if you're skipping important details," she winked at me, mimicking reading the scraps of paper on which Carlos and I had immortalized our fantasies.

"You'll get the unabridged version, all right," I promised, "In fact, girlfriend, I'm feeling so blissfully happy right now, I'll even share the photographic evidence with you."

"OMIGOD! You have pictures of Carlos naked?" Tina's voice was so loud I wanted to muzzle her. But it was, alas, too late, we were surrounded by half a dozen or so lustful women in no time.

"NO! Not naked," I waved the horde of women away, "Just with no shirt on."

"Well? Where the hell is this picture? Or did it melt the camera already?" Tina made a grab for my hand, which-after I'd quickly rummaged through my purse-now held my phone.

I'd taken a shot of Carlos using my camera phone, just minutes after he'd taken one of me in his shirt and my too-slutty-for-words boots. He was leaning against the bathroom door jam, his ripped-beyond-belief chest naked and his smile more than enticing. It was a come-hither smile that left no doubt what was going to happen to me when I got there. The picture was hotter and sexier than anything I'd ever seen in Playgirl, and DAMN-the man was mine! I was a very lucky girl, I reminded myself for what had to be the hundredth time today.

The ooohs and aaahs of the bridal party testified to the picture's hotness quotient, and I sighed happily, my mind taken back to some of the previous evening's (and early morning's) activities. I was tempted to call Carlos just to tell him that I loved him, but decided that would be rubbing it in the face of my army of drooling compatriots, so I settled instead for kissing the picture and returning my phone to the safety of my tiny beaded purse.

"So?" newly-arrived April looked at me speculatively.

I studiously examined my nails, now perfectly decorated in Passionate Pink. "So what?" I teased.

"What's he like?" April asked, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"What's who like?" Grinning, I pretended not to know what she was asking. In fact, I'd already fended off questions about Carlos' sexual skills from everyone else who'd seen him in the hallway outside my room, it was only that April had been otherwise engaged that had prevented me from being confronted with her questions sooner.

"The hot Latino Studmuffin," April prodded, "Is he as good as he looks?"

"Better," I smirked, "And that's all I'm going to say about it to you."

"Come on, not fair," she whined, "I'll tell you all about my boyfriend Dougie."

"I don't want to hear about a grown man who calls himself 'Dougie'," I replied, my mind thinking back unhappily to Dickie Orr. "Besides, what happened to the concept of privacy?"

"Doesn't apply between friends. Not for sexual things," April insisted, "Particularly when I heard you screaming 'Carlos, I'm coming' at least a dozen times in the wee early hours of this morning and I didn't call hotel security once to complain you were keeping me awake."

My face grew red, and I looked over to Tina for help. Big mistake.

"Go on-show her the picture of Studmuffin shirtless," Tina urged. "You know you want to pull it out again and drool over him."

I fished my cell phone out of my purse and produced the blazingly hot photo of Carlos. Damn, but I did enjoy looking at the man!

"I hate you," April moaned to me teasingly. "He's a god among men. And you had him all to yourself for hours and hours, and did all sorts of obscenely pleasurable things to that gorgeous body of his-admit it!"

"I sure did," I grinned happily, "And the minute I ditch you losers tonight, I'm going to do even more obscene things…"

"And then you're going to tell me all about them tomorrow," Tina interjected, as Nikki finished off her makeup and waved Amanda into the chair next.

Amanda tossed herself down in the chair and asked excitedly, "Did you guys hear the fight between Stella and her mother just after the breakfast ended?"

"Are you kidding? I think everyone heard them going at it," Melinda looked over at Stella's cousin Moira, who was chatting animatedly with Ruby on the other side of the room. Where Stella herself was now was anyone's guess. She'd been in a piss-ass mood all morning, getting into one row after another with whoever she happened to be with. "Moira says her witch of a mother is threatening to walk out on the wedding because Stella isn't going the traditional route."

"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" I wondered, "She's had months to stage her protest over Stella's decision; why on Earth would she wait until the morning of her daughter's wedding day?"

"Because she's a royal bitch with massive control issues. Stella told me it's been beyond rocky for months with her mother," Melinda confided. "They've been going at it like prizefighters all along, and Stella just lets it roll off her back. Usually. Until this morning, that is: when her mother told her that Rabbi Kirschbaum and his wife showed up at their house yesterday afternoon and told her that Stella was a disgrace to Jews everywhere because she was holding the wedding on the Sabbath."

"A disgrace to Jews everywhere?" Tina snorted in disgust, "Somehow I think the Rabbi has a gift for over-exaggeration, don't you? Most Jews have other things to worry about than when Stella Markowitz is having her wedding, I dare say. Or at least they should."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" I said, shaking my head in amazement. No wonder Stella was a nervous wreck! Her own mother was sabotaging her wedding!

"Rabbi Kirschbaum just won't get past the fact that Stella and Patrick are having their wedding on the Sabbath. Moira told me he had the nerve to tell Mrs. Markowitz that they need to attend another synagogue if Stella actually has the gall to go through with this," Melinda related, "and Moira says that Stella's maternal grandmother has refused to come-at the very last minute, mind you! Said 'no' this morning, just like that. Said God wouldn't forgive her if she spit in His face and attended the ceremony after the Rabbi's pronouncement yesterday!"

"Poor Stella!" Tina shook her head, "She and Patrick planned this day for months, paid for it themselves, and they've tried to work in traditions from his Irish Catholic family and her Russian Jewish family. And what do they get for their trouble?"

"More trouble, ladies!" Moira interjected, joining us just as Amanda finished in the chair and it was time for Moira to get her makeup done.

"Now what?" I wondered, "Did her mother actually walk out after all?"

"Not yet," Moira sighed unhappily, "But she will, count on it. Aunt Esther is stubborn that way. And a huge Drama Queen. Right now she's locked in her room, and Stella-gown, veil and all-ran upstairs to talk to her. Bitch. I'd let her walk-but then, she isn't my mother from Hell, thank God almighty!"

"I can't believe she would deliberately ruin her daughter's wedding," I said in amazement. "All over the fact that the wedding is on a Saturday?"

"It's a big no-no for Jews to marry on the Sabbath," Moira explained to us, "The fact that Stella has been non-practicing for ages means nothing to Aunt Esther. It's all about 'what will everyone think?'"

"Oh, shit! I can understand that," I groaned, imagining my mother's reaction if Father Cowen had shown up at her door and told her she had to stop attending Saint Stephen's because her youngest daughter had disgraced the family by doing one thing or another. I'd be in Stella's shoes; and somehow my mother would turn my wedding day into another 'why me?' event. I felt miserable for my friend, who didn't deserve this-especially when I knew that she'd knocked herself out to make both families feel welcome.

"It sucks donkey balls," Moira admitted. "They tried to work around it by planning the wedding for late Saturday night-technically no longer the Sabbath. But the hotel was booked solid, so Stella and Patrick had no choice but to go with this afternoon as planned. See, the thing is, from the get-go, Patrick's family wanted the wedding to happen on Saturday, not on Sunday. They're all from out of state-most of them are from Colorado and Wyoming-and they have to travel back home in time to be at work Monday morning. So Saturday early afternoon works best for them. And Stella and Patrick wanted to accommodate them, thus the situation we're in now. Either Stella has her family all there on Sunday and Patrick's family are MIA; or else his is there Saturday and the ultra Orthodox members of her family are boycotting. Real lose-lose situation, yes?"

"Yes," Tina muttered, "Anyone but me think that a lot of damage is done in God's name by people who speak for Him, but act anything but kind to their neighbors? Or family, in this case. Poor Stella!"

"Makes my worry of not staying awake today seem really petty, that's for sure," I admitted sadly.

"Honey, you aren't going to fall asleep during this wedding, trust me," Moira promised, "There's too much upset and confusion going to be happening!"

"I hear you're standing us all up tomorrow for Carlos the Shirtless Wonder Hunk," Ruby now took her place in the chair, winking at Tina. "I'm wondering how you can miss our happy little trek into the City to see Mamma Mia! followed by dinner, just because some hotter than hot naked Studmuffin promises you several dozen orgasms or so."

"It was a tough decision to make between the two," I snorted, "but hey, I'm happy with my choice."

"I'll just bet you are, you shameless over-sexed little hussy," Ruby grinned, her eyebrows wagging, "Where's the Hunk right about now? Sleeping, totally exhausted after pleasuring you all night long?"

"Nope. He had some kind of important function he couldn't get out of," I shrugged my shoulders, "Meeting some Army buddies of his before he goes overseas again." I was actually wondering what Carlos considered as can't break plans…not that I'd been nosy enough to ask him, that is. Hell, I didn't even know what his last name was yet, I reminded myself again! I needed to forget sexing him up long enough to ask him that while I still could!

"This is going to be a nightmare," Moira sighed, "A true nightmare of a wedding, followed by a mess of a reception. Forget for a minute the never-ending clash between Stella and Aunt Esther all the way through this. And Rabbi Kirschbaum's happy little 'do it my way or else' contribution to the whole thing. Trust me, that mish-mash of a ceremony Stella and Patrick have concocted will end up getting everyone upset, one way or the other. Just wait and see!"

"Amen, amen," Ruby agreed, "I tried to tell her she was asking for big trouble getting creative, but she didn't want to hear it. One from Jewish column A, one from Irish Catholic column B. What a freaking mess."

"What do you mean, a mish-mash of a ceremony?" Amanda asked, her dark blue eyes revealing her distress, "I've never been to a Jewish wedding, let alone been a bridesmaid in one. What am I supposed to do? Something different than usual?"

"You're supposed to bring your cute little ass to the wedding rehearsal, that's what you're supposed to do, sweetie," Melinda cut her a dismissive look that had my toes quaking in their size 7 ½ specially-dyed ice blue 4-inch stiletto heels. Yeesh! It wasn't even her wedding! Bridezilla, much!

"I couldn't make it Thursday night, I explained why," Amanda whined unhappily, "I had other plans. Important ones I couldn't get out of-my in-laws from hell had their anniversary dinner! Come on, be a friend! Just give me a clue, here! What am I in for as a bridesmaid? What do I do?"

"If you're confused about anything, girl, just follow us," Tina interjected, a tendril of her coffee colored hair escaping the careful upsweep that Heather had crafted so carefully.

"Do whatever the hell we do. And smile like you know what you're doing. Fake your way through it. That's what we're doing-right, Stevie? I know I'm taking my cue from Moira if I get confused."

I, on the other hand, had other more pressing problems. "I hate these frickin' floral hair wreaths," I complained to the group in general, "Does anyone else feel like someone is tapping you on the shoulder every time you move your head?"

"Honey, I've whipped my head around so many times looking for people behind me that I feel like Linda Blair in The Exorcist," Ruby croaked.

The wildflower wreath, let alone the halter style of the bridesmaid dress, was not kind to Ruby. Nearer to 60 years of age than she cared to admit, Ruby was 5' with a smidge over 200 lbs packed onto her, most of them around her middle. She looked like she was ready to give birth at any moment….and when you looked at the massive wrinkles on her face the sight was truly frightening.

The rest of us were relatively lucky: the dress style hugged our curves expertly and revealed just the right amount of cleavage. Melinda as a redhead and Amanda as a blonde were especially gorgeous in that icy shade of blue. As for me-well, until now I'd been too scared to look in the mirror, so I really hadn't analyzed what the dress did or didn't do for my complexion. But I had to admit, thanks to Nikki and Heather, I was looking pretty damned fine!

At the moment, I didn't even feel tired. I'd been fortified by three strong coffees during the bridal party's breakfast earlier this morning, so I'd managed to show signs of life despite running on only two hours of sleep. And thankfully, after I hobbled to my chair I was able to remain seated during the breakfast, so my stiff "I just climbed off a horse" shuffle wasn't noticeable to anyone but Tina and myself. God forbid Stella'd caught sight of me, I would no doubt have had my head ripped off by Bridezilla!

"Truth to tell, Aunt Esther isn't the only one unhappy about the interdenominational ceremony Stella and Patrick have planned." Moira confided, "Uncle Seymour isn't that thrilled either, although he's keeping his mouth shut for Stella's sake. Neither my aunt nor my uncle are all that happy about Stella marrying an Irish Catholic in the first place, although they like Patrick well enough. There were more battles fought in our family over this wedding than I can count. The only way Uncle Seymour and Aunt Esther gave their blessing and agreed to attend the ceremony at all was Stella's promise to raise the children in the Jewish faith. Now even that isn't enough for Aunt Esther. The bitch."

"What about Patrick's family?" I questioned, "Don't they want the same assurance from him? That any kids be raised Catholic?"

"No, they're okay with it. Mainly because Patrick's mother is deceased," Moira replied. "And his father is a non-practicing Catholic, which is what Patrick himself is. So his family is fine with it, provided they have a priest present to say a blessing over the newlyweds. His maternal grandmother held firm on that, or else she wasn't going to attend."

"Can a priest even do that?" Tina interjected, "They tend to get bent out of shape when you aren't marrying in the Catholic church and having children raised as Catholics, from my experience."

"Damn straight they do," Moira grinned. "That's how we ended up with Father Barry. He went to college with Paul-the best man-and Patrick. He majored in theology, then decided to join the priesthood. He's agreed to say a blessing, but only as a special favor to the groom. He could get into lots of trouble with the Church, but he agreed to do it anyway. Except he won't be saying Mass, just reading a prayer or two over the happy couple. He can't perform the Sacrament of Marriage, he says."

"So, wait? Is their marriage even legal then?" I wondered.

"Yep, it's legal, all right. The wedding service is being performed by the rabbi Stella found on the internet: Rabbi Broden makes a specialty of performing interfaith services. The wedding is a civil service performed privately 15 minutes prior to the ceremony that we all will be attending. Stella and Patrick will sign a marriage agreement, called the Ketubah, and then Rabbi Broden will legally marry them. Father Barry will bless them then, and that ceremony, attended only by the bride and groom and their best man and maid of honor, is technically the legal wedding."

"So what are we attending then?" Amanda asked, confused. "We don't get to see a wedding ceremony?"

"We sure do," Moira assured her, "We get a mixture of traditional Jewish and Catholic ceremonies with the 'I Do's' and the Kiddush-"

"What's a Kiddush?" Amanda wanted to know.

"It's a blessing over the wine, representing Joy." Moira continued her explanation without taking a breath, "You'll also see that the ceremony will be taking place under the traditional Jewish Chuppah. Which is The Wedding Canopy which represents the new home that Stella and Patrick will be establishing now that they are wed. The canopy represents God's love and a covering over their family. The poles represent the support of their family and friends who are witnessing the ceremony. It's a gorgeously elaborate dupioni silk Chuppah trimmed with light blue and gold embroidered French jacquard ribbon and gold braid. Stella picked out the Family Tree design, which was commissioned to bring the presence of five generations of ancestors to witness the wedding ceremony. The tree is at the center, with the names of Stella and Patrick's parents on the trunk, their grandparents' names on the tree root, and those in turn are connected to the other generations before them, with the foliage of the tree containing leaves with each child's name, the name of the spouse and the date of the wedding sewn on. The Chuppah will become an heirloom, and hopefully in the future, Stella and Patrick's children will add their names in years to come."

"Wow, I had no idea the canopy meant something special," Tina murmured, for once silenced. "I thought it was just decorative."

Her head was turning from so many facts, as was mine.

"Oh, for sure it means something very special," Moira revealed. "Behind the tree you'll see a figurative representation of the Western Wall in Jerusalem. The Sheva Brachot-the seven blessings recited under the Chuppah-are written within seven circles, representing the seven spheres of heaven which Stella and Patrick will enter upon their marriage. Heaven is also represented in the mystical sky and stars pictured on the Chuppah. At the bottom are flowers and birds, which represent the Garden of Eden. Each valance on the Chuppah contains a different verse quoted from Tanach-the Bible-which appeared on Stella's parents' Ketubah-marriage agreement-when they were married 36 years ago."

"And they can do all this with Patrick a Catholic?" I asked, "Are you sure he didn't have to convert?"

Moira laughed, "Trust me, my aunt and uncle tried their best to get the marriage postponed unless and until Patrick converted, but he flat-out refused to do it. He's still Catholic, non-practicing, but if he'd converted his grandmother would have flipped out into next year. And yes, to answer your question, you can have all this and still have Patrick be Catholic. Thanks to Stella's internet rabbi, who makes it his business to do this kind of service for interdenominational couples. Trust me, she looked long and hard for this guy; he came in from Long Island, NY and he's being treated like visiting royalty. Without him, there can be no wedding."

"Do we get to break glasses?" Amanda asked, "I saw a Jewish ceremony in the movies-"

"It's a long-standing tradition for the groom to do that," Moira explained, "There are all sorts of metaphors that explain why the glass is broken by the groom after the marriage is performed. Some say it is to remind us of the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. Others say that it is to symbolize that, like the glass is forever changed when it is broken, the couple is forever changed by the marriage. Or you can go with the people who say that it is a reminder that life contains sadness and joy, and that in the midst of joy there is sadness. I prefer to think of it as a blessing that the couple be as fruitful as the shards of glass."

"Somehow I doubt Stella wants to be that fruitful," Tina murmured, sotto voice. Stella liked kids, but even I doubted that she wanted a dozen or so of them. Hopefully Patrick wouldn't put too much force into breaking that glass!

"Is that where we all yell Mazel Tov?" asked Amanda, "I think it is-after the glass is broken."

"Yes," Moira confirmed, "The guests yell 'Mazel Tov'-which means 'good luck' or 'congratulations'. But it's basically a prayer that the joyous energy the couple feels at that moment will surround them and sustain them throughout their lives."

"What we've ended up with now is a carefully crafted mix of Jewish and Irish Catholic traditions that is designed to make everyone just a little bit happy," Melinda looked at Moira and both women rolled their eyes. "Truth to tell, Patrick's clan are far more interested in having their Irish heritage celebrated at the wedding and the reception than having a traditional Catholic ceremony. His father is real big on Irish traditions, and his only condition was that Patrick and the groom's party wear kilts."

"Holy crap! Wearing kilts at a Jewish wedding?" Tina groaned, "Good God, it's a miracle we bridesmaids weren't wearing Kelly green gowns!"

"No, apparently wearing green is bad luck at an Irish wedding," Melinda piped up, "So Patrick told her. Otherwise that's exactly what we would have been wearing. Instead we're wearing blue because that's one of the colors in the O'Reilly family kilt."

"I thought kilts were Scottish," interrupted Ruby. "Aren't they?"

"Tartans are Scottish," Melinda replied, "From what Stella told me, and I can't swear to all of this, Patrick said the Irish usually wear solid color kilts. But a number of Irish families have designed tartans for their clans and registered them, using colors that appear in their family crests. And the O'Reilly clan's registered tartan has blue in it, and so-presto, we're wearing blue gowns. You can blame the Irish for the wildflower wreaths, too. Another tradition they are following. And Stella is having her hair braided, which is supposed to symbolize feminine power and good luck."

"Yeesh," I muttered.

"Tell her about the rest of it," Moira prodded.

"Okay, here's the deal," Melinda sighed, "Stella is carrying lavender in her bridal bouquet, along with the white roses. And she's got a tiny porcelain horseshoe stitched onto her garter belt for luck. They're giving each other Claddagh rings, and the guests will get bells to ring which is supposed to be even more good luck. And we drink mead-honeyed wine-at the reception while the best man gives an Irish toast."

"Dear Lord help us," Ruby groaned. "We have a Jewish bride decked out like an Irish maiden, and an Irish groom in a kilt signing a Ketubah and smashing a glass under a Chuppah! No wonder the Rabbi is ready to have a cow. Or is that kosher?"

"We're having corned beef and cabbage for the wedding dinner," Moira laughed, "Oh yes we are! I kid you not! And the list of songs for the band includes 'Danny Boy' and 'Hava Nagila'. It's a train wreck waiting to happen. Once the guests find out what this mix of customs looks like, no one will be happy, trust me!"

"They should have eloped," I decided.

"They came close," Moira winked. "But they were afraid both sides of the family would be ready to string them up. So instead we have the famous Chinese restaurant-"

"One from Column A, one from Column B," Melinda interjected.

"-wedding," Moira finished, "which will have everyone getting drunk once they see what's on the agenda."

"And you were afraid you'd be the talk of the wedding?" Tina teased me. "Hell, sweetie, you could pass out from exhaustion and land face forward in the cake and still no one would give you so much as a second glance."

"From your lips to God's ears," I prayed.

Then I decided that God had enough on His plate already without having to worry about answering my prayers.

TBC