Gomez Addams laughed, a tear sliding down his gaunt cheek. He wiped it away as his uncle, Leon, delivered the eulogy for his cousin Balthasar. His nimble fingers ran through his slick black hair and settled on the lapels of his pin-striped suit jacket, straightening it. As he lifted his gaze back to his uncle, he felt as though he was being watched. Glancing back and forth, finding no one paying him any particular attention, he breathed a sigh of relief and brushed his fingertips over his pencil moustache.

As Uncle Leon finished his speech, the gathering of Addams' filed around the gravesite. Gomez felt eyes on him once more; he shivered. The casket was opened for a final viewing, as was customary for the Addams family – no matter how grotesque the body inside may appear. As the heavy wooden lid creaked open, a figure approached through the fog. Gomez squinted, then felt his heart begin to race.

Before him stood a statuesque woman, skin so pale it glowed in the moonlight, long black hair lightly curled at the ends, blood red lips, and the softest brown eyes he had ever seen. She wore a lacey black dress which clung to her impossible figure. At her wrists hung tatters of fabric, similar around her feet. He couldn't look away. It seemed no one could. In fact, no one seemed interested in Cousin Balthasar at all. Gomez felt his palms begin to sweat; he never experienced anything like what he felt in that moment.

"Morticia! Morticiaaa!" A shrill voice called out. Gomez practically gave himself whiplash looking for the source. A blonde head spattered with daisies pushed through, finally emerging next to the pale goddess. Their facial features were similar: sharp jawline, high cheek bones, deep set eyes, and strong nose; yet they could not be more different in character. "There you are." The blonde-haired woman continued. "Father has been looking for you." The raven-haired beauty glowered at her. Gomez could not believe his ears. Sisters?

"Please, Ophelia, give me a moment." A soft, soothing voice replied. The woman called Ophelia huffed, turned on her heel and stalked away. Gomez felt goosebumps climb his arms as the sensation of being watched returned. It was her.

"But why? What interest could you have in me?" Gomez thought to himself. His dark brown eyes locked on hers. Ordinarily, Gomez was no stranger to women and good times, but the women who sought him out tended to be more like the blonde – chatty, made-up in pastel type colors, bubbly, and not his type at all. That's what made it fun for him. He knew he would never have any attachment to them; they were a good time, nothing more. But this, this frightened him.

"Eres divina." He whispered in her direction, a lump formed in his throat as Morticia's eyes fluttered. A bead of sweat formed at his brow, and he suddenly felt the ground spin beneath him. Gomez slowly pressed his way through the crowd, trudging deeper into the cemetery. The moss and ivy tripped him up and he fell, hands slamming onto cobblestones. Slowly, he lifted his eyes and recognized at once, the entrance to the Addams' mausoleum. His head was still cloudy, the mist had left him disoriented, and his heart threatened to pound its way out of his chest. "My gods, am I dying?" He thought aloud.

A large, disembodied male hand scampered silently across the cemetery grounds before frantically crawling onto Gomez' shoulder. The thing gestured to Gomez, who nodded.

"I'm ok, old man. I'm just trying to decipher what's happening to me." His voice was low and shaky. Thing tapped morse code into his shoulder. "No, no, nothing like that, I haven't eaten all day." He spoke more confidently. Thing was not convinced and pounded his shoulder once more. "No, Thing, it's a woman. Maybe the woman." He couldn't believe his own ears. Thing gestured once more, drawing a sigh from Gomez. "I know my record, Thing, but I swear on my father's grave this is entirely different. This woman is mysterious, I can't even begin to explain…" Thing stopped Gomez abruptly, and scampered back to the Addams' mansion, which loomed in the distance. He sat on the bench beside the mausoleum, sighing heavily. "I think I love her." He fished a cigar from his breast pocket and searched for his matches.

"Let me." A familiar voice floated to his ear. His eyes darted up to find Morticia standing before him, silent as a tomb, with a slender arm extending an engraved silver lighter. His jaw fell open, then shut just preventing his cigar from falling to the earth. He rose, eyes never leaving hers as he leaned forward, allowing the small flame to tickle the end of his vice. Smoke filled the air between them, though he tried his best to spare the beauty in front of him from the onslaught. Gomez reached for the hand holding the lighter; he froze as the cool skin brushed his palm.

"My name is Gomez Addams." His voice rumbled through his developing smile. A small smirk played at the corner of the red lips that taunted him.

"Morticia Frump." Her voice sent electricity through him. He took several nervous puffs of his cigar, then tossed it as he brought the pale fingers towards him.

"Pleased to meet you." He kissed her hand softly, locking eyes with her once more.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to follow you, I just…" Morticia's voice was smooth as glass, her face void of emotion, yet her eyes gave her away. She was embarrassed. Gomez stopped her.

"No need to apologize, my dear." He cringed. "I mean, Morticia. I only came here to escape the crowd and get some air." Gomez noted the flutter in her eyes again.

"Good idea. Mind if I join you?" She sat as he gestured towards the bench. The small concrete seat forced their arms to touch; he swore he felt his stomach rolling into a knot. He was beginning to sweat, but the goosebumps returned to his arms. "Are you alright?" She asked coolly. Gomez loosened his tie and nodded.

"I'm fine. I must have had too much of the punch." His nervous chuckle brought a grin to Morticia's face, and she nodded slowly, her raven hair slipping over her shoulders. Her scent was driving him wild.

"I should go." She said suddenly. His heart dropped and he stood abruptly.

"No." He asserted. "Please." Her eyes grew wide. "Please, stay, I…" He hoped he hadn't startled her.

Just as Morticia reclaimed her spot beside Gomez, Thing returned, running on calloused fingertips onto Gomez' lap. She squinted at the bizarre hand.

"This is Thing." Gomez laughed. "He's terribly shy." Morticia gave a rare, brilliant white, toothy smile.

"Nice to meet you, Thing." The hand gestured a friendly wave to Gomez' female companion, then crawled into the pocket of his jacket.

"What are you doing in there?" He demanded. Thing re-emerged, signaled "OK", and left as quickly as he came. Gomez shook his head. "Complete madness." It was Morticia's turn to laugh.

"He seems sweet." Gomez met her eyes once more. The soft brown seeming to melt with golden hues, creating a sparkle the likes of which he had never seen before. He was hypnotized. Bewitched even. She stared back at him, searching him, no doubt pulling his inner-most secrets from the recesses of his brain. He was beginning to feel weak. "Mon Cher?" The phrase pierced through the fog in his mind, and he emitted a low growl.

"Tish…may I call you Tish?" He practically wheezed. She paused, then nodded.

"Tish. I like that. But only when you say it." His world was spinning again as her words hummed in his ears.

"Tish, you speak French?" His Spanish accent grew thicker with each word. Her eyes fluttered again.

"Oui." A coy grin spread across her blood red lips. He gasped.

"Your voice, that French, it drives me wild" Gomez snatched her delicate hand and kissed it firmly. Before he knew it, he had kissed up her lace-clad arm and was nearly at her shoulder. "I don't know what I'm doing, but I can't help it." Her head tilted to the side, exposing the soft flesh of her neck.

"I can, mmm, but I don't want to." She breathed as Gomez took the invitation and planted a gentle kiss just below her jaw. Her scent was intoxicating, all he wanted to do was breathe her in.

"I felt you watching me." Gomez confessed, breathless from the shower of kisses he rained down on her.

"I hope I didn't scare you." She sounded remorseful.

"Never. I saw you and I couldn't look away. Well…no one could!" He laughed. "I have never seen someone so…so…." Morticia was beginning to blush, very faintly. "Beautiful."

"Gomez." His name on her lips nearly sent him over the edge. She leaned towards him. "This seems so rash, but I saw you leave, and I-" He grasped both of her hands and drew her nearer to him.

"Oh Tish, querida." His voice was barely above a whisper. Their lips nearly touching as they leaned closer.

Suddenly he felt a strange heat coming from his jacket. Sitting upright, he shoved his fingers into the pocket and felt a small metal object. His eyes widened. Thing had found Grandmama Addams' ring! He brushed his thumb over the elaborate details in the band and the smoothness of the onyx gem. But why was it burning a hole in his suit? He peered into his pocket and nearly threw the expensive garment into the dirt.

The vintage ring was glowing, strange images swirling in the onyx stone. His heart thundered in his chest so loud he feared Morticia would hear. As it was, the look on her solemn face suggested she thought he ought to be institutionalized. He glanced at her, then back into his pocket, trying to decipher the images. First, Grandmama Addams was dancing in the mansion's ballroom, then she was helping Gomez get ready for the junior prom, then the senior prom. Gomez realized he was watching his own memories of his Grandmama in the ring, but the images then twisted into something he had no recollection of. The eerie orange glow behind the images turned to a more soothing shade of blue and the image of Grandmama faded.

He could feel Morticia's eyes on him, concerned, but she said nothing and waited as though she understood what was happening. The blue fog gave way to a new image. Morticia. She held a bouquet of thorns, her tight black dress embedded with beads, makeup done perfectly. Her hips swayed as she walked down a red carpet towards…him. Gomez swallowed hard, unable to look away now. There stood an altar of sorts, a small, nervous man, and people seated in rows. Could this be a wedding? His wedding?

Gomez' already elevated heart rate pulsed faster yet. He feared he would faint. The onyx ring finally depicted Grandmama, her spirit taking his hand as well as Morticia's, and joining them. A sudden slap to the back of his head brought him back to the present. His lovely companion bore a look of shock. Another slap forced him off the bench.

"What on earth?" Morticia began, glancing around for source of the violence. Gomez laughed heartily and shook his head.

"This is complete insanity." He reached for her hands. She gave them willingly, her eyes full of questions she couldn't bring herself to ask. Gomez looked out into the mist, then back into the warm pools of Morticia's eyes. "Querida." He kept his voice soft and low. Her attention was completely on him. He shivered. "My darling, would you allow me to care for you, to worship you, to protect you, to love you for the rest of our lives and do me the honor of becoming my wife?" She blinked in disbelief.

Gomez extracted the antique ring from his pocket and watched as Morticia was treated to visions of her own in the gem. A single tear slid down her sullen cheek. When her gaze returned to his, Gomez found he could not get off his knees. He held the ring out to her in a silent plea as she slid to the ground in front of him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Another tear threatened to escape.

"Cara mia, what did you see?" Gomez asked softly as he offered her his handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes and sighed.

"I saw… my grandmother…" She whispered. "S-she was walking with me and my father down a red carpet. You were there waiting for us at the end. She took my hand and gave it to you…I…" Gomez retrieved her hands and kissed them both, holding them to his face. More tears fell. "I know you saw something similar. Your grandmama." The color left his face.

"Tish, I-this was my grandmama's ring. She told me to always carry it with me, because it would tell me when I found the woman for me. I never believed it. Not once. I carried it for a few months after she passed, it brought me comfort. But I never believed what she said. She hated that I dated so many women. Tish, if you've heard any of the rumors about me, I'm afraid they're all true. Every single one…" He was pained at the brutal honesty spilling from his soul. She blinked at him and took a deep breath. "What I can tell you now, querida, is that I will never love another. I can't explain how or why, but I need you. Only you." He knew he sounded as though he was begging; he didn't care.

Morticia reached a hand to his face and cupped his cheek softly, her crimson nails lightly brushing his skin. He inched closer to her, still clutching the intricate jewelry in his hand. He feared he would vomit following the purge of his transgressions. Yet he found comfort as she pressed her forehead against his.

"I was engaged once before. I didn't love him; it was an arrangement because my father felt I needed to marry into money. Things…didn't work out. I've heard the rumors, Gomez Addams, about your exploits with women. In truth, it disgusted me. But seeing you today, your eyes, your moustache, your laugh…" Gomez trembled, Morticia's lack of expression intimidated him terribly. She still stroked his cheek, her forehead pressed to his. "I have to know…"

"Anything, Tish, anything at all I will tell you." He gasped.

"Kiss me." She demanded flatly. There was no need to ask him again. His lips pressed hers, hungry, desperate. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers winding into the silky black hair, as he eased her on to her back. She took his bottom lip in her teeth and tugged before releasing it. He ground his mouth against hers, deepening the kiss, allowing more of her into his world. He licked her lips and sighed as they parted. She was breathing heavily, he was thrilled. Their tongues teased each other briefly, then simultaneously they pulled away.

"Marry me." Gomez pleaded again, panting, extending the ring again as he helped her sit up. Morticia reached for it and held it in her palm. A soft gasp escaped her as the jewelry glowed once more. Gomez rushed to her side to watch. They were asleep, she nestled comfortably in his arms, sheets covering their sleeping frames. His hand stroking her swollen belly. Wait. Their eyes left the ring and poured into each other. Not breaking her gaze, she slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Mon amour." She sighed. He planted a firm kiss to the ring now adorning her delicate finger.

"That's French." He sighed softly, reaching for the zipper at the back of her obsidian dress. Gomez pressed the lace down slowly, watching his betrothed's chest heaving. He was relieved she appeared to be experiencing the same level of excitement. Just as he was about to expose her breasts, she held up a hand.

"Later, my darling, after the wedding." She purred. He swallowed hard and nodded. His gaze lifted from her bosom to her eyes, now focused on him with an intensity that almost scared him.

"Of course, querida, later." He groaned, burying his face in her neck, feeling her cool skin against his mouth. She tilted her head, allowing him to further ravish the sensitive skin before he finally pulled away. "But how much later?" A soft laugh escaped her lips.

"Patience, darling. Tomorrow perhaps?" His eyes grew wide.

"Twenty-four hours? Oh Tish…you test me!" Gomez smiled. "Cara mia I would wait for all eternity if it meant I would be with you." Her eyes glittered.

"Darling, we should return to the funeral." She whispered. Gomez nodded, rising to his feet. She grasped his hand and rose with him, taking his arm as they strode back to the grave.

"Look at that ring!" Ophelia squealed as Gomez reluctantly released Morticia's arm. He chuckled at his beloved's expression, or lack thereof. Her sister gripped her hand and held it up, gawking. "I didn't know you were even dating!"

"We weren't." Morticia's voice was calm. Ophelia was dumbfounded.

"I'm going to speak with your father." Gomez said softly over Morticia's shoulder. He could see the shock in Ophelia's expression as he kissed her sister's neck. The long crimson nails caressed his cheek.

"Hurry back, mon cher." Morticia purred.

"French." He hissed in her ear as he pressed his lips firmly to her shoulder, peppering her arm with kisses down to her hand before finally releasing her. Her longing glance broke his heart. He didn't want to leave his beautiful querida, but he needed to do this right.

"Gomez, you're nervous as a cat!" Henri Frump bellowed. Gomez shrunk at the man's booming voice. "Out with it, man!" He laughed. Gomez smoothed his hair and inhaled sharply. All he could think about was his love for his sweet Tish. He cleared his throat.

"Mr. Frump, I am in love with your daughter!" He declared, nearly shouting. Henri stepped back and narrowed his dark blue eyes. Gomez couldn't believe his own boldness.

"Which one?" The question made Gomez want to vomit in fear.

"Morticia." His voice cracked. Her name tingled on his lips, and he loved the way it sounded when he said it. He could feel his blood coursing through his veins at the very thought of her. Her father, however, was not convinced.

"Gomez… had you said Ophelia, I would've been more than happy to hear this news. I might have even believed you! But Morticia? My Morticia?" He paused, balling his fists with what appeared to be tears in his eyes as he glared at the man before him.

"I know you've heard the rumors, and yes, those rumors are true. Except the one about the chainsaw – I was acquitted." He pulled a cigar from his pocket and offered it to Henri, who accepted cautiously. "But I want you to know, there is something very different, very special, about Morticia. I know that probably doesn't mean much coming from me, but please believe me when I tell you that I will never love another woman so long as I live." His face was on fire, his whole body if he was being honest with himself. He could speak of his love for hours, even though they'd only just met. "In fact, I have proposed to her, just moments ago."

"You WHAT?!" Henri shouted, looking as though he may lunge at any moment. Gomez pulled an additional cigar out of his pocket and lit it, puffing nervously. He nodded. Henri was about to speak further when Hester appeared at his side. "Do you believe this?"

"Believe what, dear?" Hester hadn't heard Gomez profess his love for her daughter. Henri saw to it that she was informed. Her eyes bulged.

"Henri! Our daughter! An Addams!" She practically squealed. Henri furrowed his brow.

"Our Morticia an Addams?" He pushed.

"Yes! It's too perfect!" Tears began streaming down her face as she gazed at a stunned Gomez. "Where is she?"

"Where is who, mama?" The soft, gentle tone entered the room, followed by Morticia's nearly silent footsteps. Gomez practically ran to her side, taking her hand in his. They gazed into each other's eyes for a moment before looking back at her parents.

"You, my dear!" Hester hurried to her daughter. "The ring, let me look into the ring." Morticia gave a sidelong glance to her fiancé before extending her left hand. To everyone except Hester's surprise, the ring began to glow as it had in the cemetery. She began to weep. Gomez met Morticia's eyes; she, too, had tears building. He pulled her in tight.

"What is it, darling?" Henri asked softly, his anger towards Gomez seemingly disappeared. His wife reached for him, drawing him in so he could watch with her. His jaw hung open as he stared into the onyx stone. Morticia and Gomez exchanged a soft look.

"You see it too?" Morticia asked quietly. Hester and Henri both nodded slowly. Gomez slid his hand over her hip and squeezed lightly.

"You see, Mama Addams and I were friends in school, she talked about this ring so often. This is no ordinary jewelry as you can see." Hester's voice trailed off.

As soon as the glow subsided, she took her daughter aside.

"You must marry. As soon as possible. Today!" She bustled off with Henri in tow. "Come on darling, we have to get back to the house, we have a wedding to put together!"

"We'll meet you there." Morticia called after them. She turned towards Gomez, a faint smile on her lips and she took his hands. His breath quickened as he cast her a lust-filled glance. "Soon, mon amour. I knew they would approve; I just didn't realize how quickly."

"In less than twenty-four hours too." Gomez grinned, his cigar nearing its end. "Querida?"

"Darling?" Her full attention was on him, and he relished it, watching as her eyes wandered over his face, his body, and back to his face. She lifted an eyebrow quizzically. "What is it?" He leaned in and she welcomed the gesture, opening her mouth slightly, embracing a very slow and sensual kiss.

"Let's go to the car. Lurch can take us to your house." He mumbled as pressed his face to hers. She nuzzled him.

"Who's Lurch?"

"My Butler, of course!" He laughed as they walked towards the man towering over a vintage car.

When they reached the Frump family home, Gomez exited the car and hurried to the opposite side to assist Morticia.

"It was a lovely funeral; the weather was perfect for it." Her voice nonchalant. A sudden roll of thunder stopped her in her tracks. He smiled at her as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Absolutely wonderful." Gomez followed her inside.

Hester was already flitting about the kitchen, scrambling for recipe books, cards with phone numbers scattered everywhere. Morticia immediately interjected.

"Mama, please don't trouble yourself." Her voice was soft as velvet. Gomez wanted to melt into the floor at the sound of it. Hester waved a gnarled hand at her.

"Nonsense, my dear, this is your wedding, and it should be perfect!"

"Thank you, Mama." She kissed her mother's cheek. Hester smiled and shooed the lovers away.

"This is a Frump tradition you're about to witness." Morticia laughed. Gomez felt his heart do somersaults as he escorted her into the sitting room. "I know this is probably nothing like your mansion."

"Our mansion, querida." He correctly softly. The warmth of her brown eyes intensified; a faint pink appearing in her cheeks.

"Oui, our mansion." She sat beside him on the worn black sofa. Gomez groaned and snatched her hand from her lap.

"French, Tish! Speak some more! Say anything- "His voice rumbled over his lips as he kissed up her arm.

"C'est merveilleux." She purred as he devoured her neck and began trailing to the neckline of her dress. His growl intensified as her blood-red nails raked through his hair, her breasts heaving, a small sheen of perspiration on her pale flesh. She wanted him, he could feel it, but he would respect her wishes. He backed away slowly.

"After the wedding." He panted. She cupped his face.

"I love you. I'm going to check on my father." She pressed her lips to his and left him sitting on the sofa alone.

Gomez knew she wouldn't be gone long, yet he still ached for her return. He needed to learn more about her; he wanted to know everything. Above the large stone fireplace was a row of family photos starting with what appeared to be Ophelia as a baby all the way through some sort of ceremony for Morticia. He paused at the photo, holding it in his hand and touching the glass over her face. He wasn't sure what ceremony this could be, it appeared as a graduation of sorts, but not the high school or college type he was used to.

"I studied in New Orleans." Came Morticia's smooth tone. Her face held no discernable expression as she approached. "This was my initiation into their coven." A sigh escaped her.

"A witch?" Gomez could barely contain his excitement. "Cara mia, it all makes sense! No wonder I was bewitched by you!" He winked at her.

"Perhaps it was I who was bewitched by you, my darling." Her voice was just above a whisper. Their lips were about to join in a passionate display when a loud crash came from the kitchen.

"Mama!" Morticia shouted, rushing to the source of the commotion, Gomez at her heels.

"I found it!" Hester announced happily, extracting a wedding cake topper, the bride wearing a black wedding dress, the groom with a smoking cigar.

"Uncanny resemblance!" Gomez laughed, making smoke rings with his own cigar. Hester laughed and nodded as her husband entered the room holding a large bag. Morticia turned to him.

"What is that?" She poked the vinyl casing. He held it out for her.

"This was your grandmother's. She would've wanted you to wear it on your wedding day." She held the bag to her chest, a lone tear sliding down her cheek.

"Will it fit me?" She whimpered. Henri nodded. She was built just like you, tall and thin. Morticia brushed the tear away briskly.

"Thank you, father; I hope I will do it justice."

"Querida, you would look good in anything." Gomez offered. Henri shot him a dangerous look and Gomez stepped back.

"Thank you, darling." Morticia made a small smile.

"All that's left is the guest list." Hester clapped her hands. Gomez smiled.

"My family is already in town for the funeral!" Morticia's mother bounced with excitement.

"Go tell them to get here as soon as possible! I'll call the Frump's!" Her excitement was overwhelming.

"I'll go with Gomez." Henri said sharply, clapping his future son-in-law on the shoulder. Gomez shuddered slightly and nodded.

"Alright, let's go! Lurch, we're going to have a wedding! Gather the Addamses!" Lurch groaned in reply.

It didn't take long before streams of family members showed up at the Frump house. The Addams family was all clad in black, perfectly appropriate for the event. The Frump's came in various shades, and in Ophelia's case, pale pink. Morticia shivered at her sister's choice in clothing.

"Are you really going to wear that for your wedding?" Ophelia cried. Gomez chuckled to himself, eavesdropping on his bride-to-be. He softly tapped on the door, it opened immediately.

"Gomez! You cannot see the bride before the wedding! Everyone knows that!" Ophelia shrieked. Gomez removed his top hat and bowed slightly.

"I know, I don't need to see her, I just wondered if you would give her this?" He produced a small black box tied together with ruby red ribbon. "Please." Ophelia nodded and shut the door in his face. He paused, keeping his ear close and smiled as his beloved gasped at his gift. She liked it, that was all he needed to know. He made his way down the stairs and waited at the altar, putting on his satin gloves and ensuring his tuxedo was in good order. He felt a tugging on his sleeve. It was Hester.

"I forgot to ask, what will your first dance be?" She whispered as everyone began to take their seats. Gomez stared at the ceiling for a moment, then grinned.

"If I know Tish, which I don't yet, I think a waltz would do nicely. No! A tango!" His eyes erupted with passion. Hester's face lit up.

"Interesting choice." She murmured and made her way to her seat, just in time for Morticia to descend the stairs. Gomez felt his heart thumping in his chest and the heat rising in his neck. She was a vision in her black satin gown, the beadwork on the front sparkled, accentuating all the right places and complimented her pale complexion. The low v of her neckline tantalized him. The onyx stone that hung around her neck, his gift, matched the one on her finger, and hung at her decolletage. He bit his lip as he watched the swaying of her hips in the tight dress. She was a picture of absolute perfection.

Morticia and Gomez stood at the altar, facing each other, hand in hand. Neither of them could contain their smiles. The Addams side howled with shock and laughter, making it painfully obvious they never expected Gomez would marry. The Frump side shed happy tears, for once there would not be a jilted Frump. The two cast a quick look out over their families, before gazing back at each other lovingly.

"We are gathered here today to join Gomez Addams and Morticia Frump in unholy matrimony." The officiant began. He was a small man, perhaps just over five feet tall. He was dwarfed by Morticia's five-foot-ten-inch frame and Gomez' six-foot stature. The man prattled on for a bit before finally allowing the couple to recite the vows they had prepared.

"My darling Tish, I promise to, from this day forth, for the rest of eternity, honor you, protect you, provide for you, and love you with all that I am. I will make it my life's mission to never stop learning about you. Querida mia, I am yours." Gomez fumbled with the words only briefly when he felt tears threatening to well up behind his heavy lids.

"Gomez, though we've only just met, I feel as though I've known you for all my life. I will support you, honor you, cherish you, and love you every day for eternity. You have captivated me, and I suspect you will continue to fascinate me for the rest of my days." She smiled as several members of the family laughed and Ophelia cried, the daisies on her head wilting.

"Let's have the rings." The officiant squeaked. Thing dashed down the red carpet leading up to the altar, presenting the two wedding bands. Gomez' hands were trembling as he grasped the simple gold ring and slipped it onto his bride's finger. The knot in his stomach loosened slightly. He noted how steady Morticia's hands were as the crimson claws reached for him. She easily slipped the black metal band onto his finger and suddenly any shred of anxiety he had was gone. "Kiss the bride!"

Gomez pulled his new wife in close and pressed his lips to hers with such force she began to bend backward. He seized the opportunity and dipped her as low as he could, holding his mouth to hers. The families erupted into whistles and applause as they returned upright.

"And now…" Gomez gave his bride a devilish grin as he scooped her off her feet. She was comfortable in his arms as he carried her down the aisle and out to the classic Packard that waited for them outside.

"Congratulations." Lurch groaned in his low gravelly timbre, placing their luggage in the trunk.

"Thank you, old man!" He placed Morticia in the seat, then ran to the other side of the car. "WE must plan the honeymoon!"

"But your dance!" Hester cried out. Gomez froze. How could he have forgotten? He slapped his forehead.

"Dance? Darling, what did we pick?" Morticia's face contorted with confusion. Her husband beamed at her.

"Don't worry, cara mia, you will know when the music starts." His lids lowered as he gazed at her, walking her out into the middle of the street. When the sound of the violin echoed through the trees, he took her hand and pulled her in.

"Oh Gomez, a tango? In front of my parents?" She laughed nervously, moving in step with him in a dizzying twist of arms and legs anyone else would have found impossible to follow. As the music concluded, he dipped her low once more, planting yet another passionate kiss on her mouth. He saw stars in her eyes as he escorted her back to the car, barely hearing the encore of whistles and cheers.

"You are a wonderful dancer, cara mia." He wiped his brow. She drew in a sharp breath.

"As are you, mon sauvage". The words barely left her lips before he began kissing her arm.

"Oh, Tish. That might be my favorite one yet." He groaned. She leaned into him and softly kissed his jaw.

"I don't know how much longer I can wait." She whispered. He wrapped his arm around her and held her tight.

"Just a bit further, querida." He breathed, brushing her hair from her face. The Addams' mansion came into view quickly as Lurch sped along the busy street. Daylight was breaking, and the sunshine was beginning to stream into the car windows as the Packard squealed through the gate. "Lurch, please bring the bags and leave them by the door"

"Yes Mr. Addams." Lurch grumbled. Gomez sprinted to the other side of the car and brought his bride to her feet, gently lifting her into his arms.

"Eres Divina." He sighed, happily carrying his wife through the door of their home. He climbed the stairs, then veered to the right and steered her down the hall. "Forgive me, I hadn't planned on getting married today, my darling, or I would have had this whole place rearranged for you." He muttered as he placed her on what was previously his bed. She rested on her elbows and gazed at him.

"Don't fret, mon cher, this is perfect."

"French!" Gomez dove at her, pinning her beneath him, his lips hungrily teasing hers. "Cara mia, your dress. I need to get you out of it." His hands worked the zipper, tugging it down as quickly as he could. He felt her fingers unbuttoning his vest and he smiled, cherishing that his Morticia wanted him so.

Strong fingers peeled down the top of the satin gown. He helped his wife free her arms, then carefully tugged the skintight garment down to her hips. He drew in a breath as he gazed at her half bare body. She kept her breaths slow and steady, watching him as he memorized her every inch. He ached for her. He needed to feel her beautiful pale skin against him, to be one with her. Her hands ripped open his silk dress shirt, scattering buttons in all directions.

"Allow me." He laughed, removing what was left of his shirt and undoing his pants, for fear his lovely wife's frustrations would destroy his entire ensemble. Before he returned to her, he removed her dress completely, along with her undergarments, and paused to appreciate her body. "You are even more stunning than I imagined." He kept his voice low. His eyes inspected every inch until he came upon a rather large wound. A large 'W' had been scarred into the flesh of her left hip. He brushed it with his fingertips and frowned. "Tish, what is this?" Her eyes fell.

"Do you remember in the cemetery, when I told you I was previously engaged?" Her voice was trembling.

"Yes. You said things didn't work out." Gomez answered warily. Still touching the wounded skin.

"Indeed. He did not like that I chose to study the dark arts." She sighed. "One night he lost his temper, threw me onto the floor of his library, beat me, and carved this W, for witch. Then he told everyone in town. My family was run out by an angry mob. He swore if he ever saw me again, he would burn me alive." Her voice fell flat. Gomez felt an anger he had never felt before. He stood upright in his naked glory and made a fist.

"Who is this man? I will find him and kill him with my bare hands!" The fury in his voice startled him. Normally, he would avoid such confrontation, he was not known for his bravery. Morticia's eyes were wide with fear, her normally warm brown irises were nearly black. He frightened her.

"Gomez." She touched his cheek. "Honeymoon now, murderous rage later." She drew him in, and he groaned. He kissed the hideous pink W on her hip and anywhere else he could reach before settling on his knees, his cheek pressed to her thigh. His wife trembled as he kissed her up to her core. She was ready. He pulled her close to the edge of the bed and positioned himself between her legs. The gold flecks had returned to her sparkling eyes, her crimson lips curved into a smile. He began to enter her.

"Darling, you're so…tense…" He grunted, pressing harder until he was able to settle in. She squeezed her eyes shut and moaned loudly, her body writhing beneath him.

"Mon cher." She gasped. "You are my first." He nearly choked. He was her first? He immediately cradled her in his arms and moved her to a more comfortable place on the bed.

"Tish, my dark angel, my goddess, forgive me." He begged, sliding a pillow under her hips. She nodded and stroked his face. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, mortified. "I'm honored, I just-"She stopped him.

"I wanted to experience you. I suppose I let the rumors play in my head about your affairs – all the things you do. It wasn't until-" Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I'm the one who needs forgiveness, darling." Gomez shook his head and carefully repositioned himself. His fingertips brushed her nipple, and he watched as the pink bud hardened in anticipation.

"Don't apologize. As I told you, the rumors are…were true. But they are not who I am anymore. If I am your first, I want to be your last, and I want to make sure you're comfortable." He leaned in and kissed the hardened peak, then sucked on it gently before pulling away. She blinked at him slowly, indicating she understood. Gomez helped her adjust her hips on the pillow before he entered her again, gentler this time. The soft moan that escaped her lips sounded much more pleasurable than the first.

"Mon amour, s'il vous plaît ne vous arrêtez pas." She sighed as he rocked her hips slowly, tenderly, doing his best to relax her and worship her body with his own. He softly bit into her shoulder drawing a low cry from her.

"Tish." Gomez warned with a chuckle. He felt her crimson nails rake down his back, spurring him on.

"Je te veux." Her French was impeccable. He involuntarily bucked into her, and she nearly screamed. He could feel her body approaching the edge, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer either. He leaned in and ground her mouth with his, then kissed her neck. Gomez' arms wrapped around her body protectively as he felt her tension build.

"Gomez, I'm…I'm…" Her face twisted in a combination of pain and pleasure as her body exploded in its full release.

"Coming…" He sighed, pouring himself into her simultaneously, burying his face in her neck, clinging to her body. "Cara mia…my treasure." Gomez rolled over, pulling the dark silk sheet up over their exposed bodies. He felt her hand slide over his stomach as she moved closer to him. It was impossible for him not to smile as he watched her recover. Her eyes fixed on him.

"What is this you've done to me?" She whimpered, her voice barely audible. He pressed his head to hers as he enveloped her in his arms, his fingertips immediately seeking out the scar on her hip. She trembled.

"Cara, I don't like this scar, I don't like the implications. I don't want you marked as a witch as though it is something to be ashamed of." His voice came out more harshly than he intended. Her eyes darkened and he immediately felt guilty. "Forgive me, my dear, I just would rather see a more pleasant brand on you, if you must be scarred by something." A tantalizing flicker crossed her gaze.

"Do you have a branding iron?" She asked quietly. Gomez felt his eyes widen. He nodded.

"I got it as a gift for my thirteenth birthday." He mused. "My initials…" Suddenly it hit him, and he locked eyes with her. "I have an idea!"

Gomez slid out of bed, wrapped himself in his robe, and rang for Lurch. Soon a shuffle sounded outside the door. Morticia pulled the covers up a bit higher.

"You rang?" Lurch asked. Gomez nodded.

"Could you make Mrs. Addams a branding iron with her initials?" He held a pen and paper out to his wife. "Querida, write your initials on here, Lurch is a fine blacksmith." She quickly wrote "MA" in a dramatic script style. Lurch groaned and nodded in approval before shuffling out of the bedroom and down the hall. "Now, cara mia, where were we?" He crawled back in beside his new bride.

The day wore on and the new lovers were tangled up in the sheets and each other. Morticia slept, her head resting against Gomez' firm chest. He stared at the ceiling, absently stroking his wife's hair. He felt the silky strands wind around his fingers and spread across his abdomen. She stirred slightly as he adjusted his position. He rubbed her shoulder, glancing again at the rough scar on her hip. Ordinarily, he would've found something like that to be sexy, but on his wife? That was different. Any marks left on her were to be made from a mutual desire of it. A loud knock on the bedroom door startled them both.

"Your iron, Mrs. Addams." Lurch growled as he set it beside the fireplace.

"Thank you, Lurch." She smiled as the large figure trudged out of the bedroom. "What was your idea?" Gomez was already way ahead of her, stalking naked to the fireplace, placing both branding irons in the growing flames. He turned to her.

"What if I put my initials over that dreadful thing?" He whispered as she approached him. She nodded.

"It would make a happier memory." Morticia said weakly. Gomez turned both brands slowly, before handing her the one baring her initials.

"Do me, first." He growled. "Put it over my heart, querida." She pressed him into a chair, and he watched her, the glowing metal inches from his chest. He held his breath in anticipation of the searing pain that was sure to come. Her velvet lips brushed his, distracting him just long enough that the heat from the wrought iron nearly made him jump as it singed his skin. He howled and she drew back quickly, dropping the rod, her eyes burdened with worry.

"Darling, are you alright? Was it too much?" She slid into his lap, facing him. He brushed his fingers along her face, pushing her hair behind her ear.

"Never, cara mia." He kissed her softly, then inspected the brand his wife left behind. Burned into his skin, her initials in her handwriting. He laughed with joy. "Yours forever. And now it's your turn, my dear." Morticia glanced around the room, aware she would not be able to sit in the chair if her husband was to press his iron to her hip. She eyed a large wooden frame in the corner.

"Perhaps I could use that?" She suggested. Gomez couldn't contain his amusement.

"That's my rack. I use it for stretching, but I guess I hadn't thought about using it for…other activities." He chuckled, leading her to the strange device. "Do you want me to buckle you in?" Their eyes met, startling Gomez. He couldn't comprehend the expression on her face.

"Please." Her simple reply sent shockwaves through him. He helped her onto the machine and slid his hands up either side of her body, extending her arms above her head and binding them with leather straps before moving to her legs. He tickled her navel with his mustache as he kissed her belly and each thigh, followed by the cruel 'W' that had been carved into her by someone other than him. He tightened the straps, stretching her limbs until she moaned quietly with an expression of pleasure plastered to her pale features. She shifted slightly, offering up that cursed letter to be covered and he obliged, bringing the red-hot iron down onto her hip and she wailed. It startled him as it had her, and he tossed the iron away. Morticia panted, he could see his initials clearly, glowing an angry red against the pallor of her body.

"Querida?" His voice was a harsh whisper, she was silent, chewing her lip. Her head was tilted, her back arched, and her chest heaving. Her pain was obvious, and it wounded him. Gomez rushed to release her from her binds and carried her to his bathtub. The cool water seemed to soothe the burn, and soon her voice returned to her. She gazed at the initials that now covered her, and softly touched the burnt flesh with a wince.

"Thank you." Her lip quivered. His fingers tilted her chin up and he leaned over the side of the tub to kiss her.

"Let me do that." He offered, taking a washrag and rubbing it over her body, taking special care not to touch the scorched skin. "Tish, are you alright?"

"Oui, mon amour." Her eyes glittered, the smile returning to her deep red lips. She rose to her feet and stepped out of the porcelain tub. Gomez wrapped her in a towel, drying her carefully before she shrugged the fabric away.

Chapter 2: Morticia

When she awoke, her hip was throbbing. The scorched skin where her love had branded his initials onto her was a deep, violent shade of red. She turned to look at the mop of thick black hair on the pillow next to her and she smiled. Gomez was every bit the talented lover he was rumored to be, yet there was none of the brute she had been told came along with it. No, he was very tender and attentive to her; every bit of what she had expected a husband to be like. Morticia turned her head to the other side, wanting to check the time. In their passion, the alarm clock had gotten smashed against a wall. She sighed in annoyance but couldn't help the grin that spread across her crimson lips. Beside where the alarm clock usually sat, was a small picture in a frame of her darling husband as a boy sitting beside another young man with similar facial features, but bald.

"My brother, Fester." Gomez whispered over her shoulder; his tone was sad. He pressed his lips to her smooth, pale skin. She felt his hand slide over her waist.

"Where is he?" She asked softly. He hadn't mentioned a brother, nor had he been at their wedding, despite all the Addams' in attendance. Her husband sighed.

"I don't know. No one does. I did a terrible thing and drove him to God knows where." She rested her head against his.

"What could possibly have been so terrible- " Her thought was cut short by Gomez' hungry lips pressing against her neck. His fingertips brushed down her spine and she shivered.

"Again, the rumors you've heard, my darling…" His breath on her nape brought goosebumps. She rolled to face him, cupping his cheek in her hand, pressing herself tighter against him.

"Yes, mon amour, the rumors. Please tell me." His eyes begged her to reconsider, but he couldn't hide from her.

"When we were teenagers, Fester and I went to the Debutante Ball. I never struggled to find a date to any sort of function, but that night, I had no one. Fester's date was a pair of Siamese twins – Flora and Fauna Amore. I didn't love them. I didn't even find them attractive, yet I wooed them both out of foolish pride. Fester had gone to get drinks, and when he returned…well, use your imagination…" His voice trailed off, cracking slightly. Morticia absently traced a blood red fingernail around the initials she had branded onto her husband's chest, her eyes remained locked on his.

"You were just a boy then." Her voice was just above a whisper. Gomez slid his hands around her waist.

"And you have made me a man." He drew her in, kissing her furiously. She couldn't contain her smile as her lover ravaged her with his lips and groped her body desperately. A low moan rose from her chest as Gomez paid close attention to her wounded hip. He laid her on her back and kissed a circle around the scar. "I should give you a tour of your new home." He rose from the bed. Morticia couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief. His olive skin was flawless aside from her stamp over his heart. He was athletic and strong, but not heavily muscled. Her gaze drifted between his thighs. The rumors certainly were true, but now he belonged to her and her alone. He caught her staring and laughed softly as a faint blush rose into her cheeks.

"You certainly are a man." She breathed, pulling the sheet around her body, watching with great interest as he threw open the doors to his immense closet. There were rows of tailored pin-striped suits, various robes, smoking jackets, and assorted formal wear. Gomez paused, selecting two robes, one for himself and one for his new bride. Morticia quickly wrapped herself in the soft garment, reveling in faint earthy scent of his cigar smoke that lingered in the fibers.

"Come, cara mia." He extended his hand to her. A slight smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she slipped her hand in his. She pulled herself up and stood beside her husband, allowing herself to be drawn in close as he wrapped his arm around her, his fingers stroking her narrow waist over the robe.

The sound of their footsteps echoed in the hallway as the couple made their way to each room. Thing scampered behind them, eager to be a part of the tour. Morticia was amused by the large hand and didn't mind having the additional companion. The first door Gomez paused at had a small window carved into it with a sliding shutter. She watched as he smiled when he opened the heavy wooden door.

"This is my study. I do my business dealings in here. He gestured to a large mahogany desk with a feather fountain pen and lamp set neatly on top. On the walls hung various weapons, including rapiers and rifles of all kinds. She stepped inside, taking his hand as he followed. He gestured to his ticker tape. "This is how the Addams family makes most of its money and has since the beginning." He stated proudly. She nodded, understanding her husband would likely be spending most of his time in there. "My attorney comes once a month to handle my contracts and various things. In fact, he will be here today!" Gomez checked his gold pocket watch. Morticia felt her stomach tighten.

"What about these rooms?" She asked quietly. He grinned, gesturing to the door she stood in front of. There was a blue octopus painted on it. The next door had a faded yellow vulture, and the last door was adorned with a red bear.

"These rooms are mostly empty right now. The blue octopus used to be my room as a boy. The vulture was Fester. The family never did speak of the bear. That room has been vacant for as long as I can remember…" His voice trailed. "That room at the end has all of Fester's things in it now. I thought if he ever came back, he should have an adult room."

"Sensible." She agreed, taking his arm as they descended the grand staircase. Gomez gestured to yet another room.

"My library." His tone was careful. She looked up at him, his expression nothing like that of her former betrothed. Morticia knew why his voice was quiet, and she loved him even more for it. She took his hand and slid it into her robe until he touched the new scar, and she gave him a rare toothy smile before glancing around at his collection of books.

"Rest assured, cara mia, the only time you will ever touch the floor in any room of this house, is by your choosing. I will happily make love to you on any surface, anywhere you desire." His soft laugh was intoxicating. His fingertips caressed her hip before he slid them down between her thighs. She inhaled sharply, pressing to his hand.

"Darling." Her voice had an element of warning. Gomez' devilish grin aroused her greatly, but she was relieved when he paused. She wasn't quite ready for another round. Not yet.

"Come, there's more I need to show you." He offered her his arm once more. They walked through the large kitchen, pots and pans scattered about. "I don't do much cooking, Lurch does most of that." He chuckled. They continued until they entered a room made entirely from windows. There was nothing in it but a small table with a chess board and two stools. Her eyes lit up.

"What do you use this for?" She asked quietly. He shook his head.

"Fester and I used to play chess right here. Thing and I still do sometimes, but it's not the same. Other than that, nothing." His response opened the door for her.

"Could I put a few plants in here?"

"Of course, querida! Whatever you like! This can be your conservatory!" She grinned at his excitement. The couple slowly made their way to the next room, which he explained to be an in-law suite, followed by a guest room, then he led her down a narrow hall with a short door.

"Where does this go?" She knew he would show her, but her curiosity was impatient. He yanked the tiny door open and gestured for her to enter first. She crouched and shuffled inside. Gasping in surprise, she stood upright and looked around as Gomez lit a candle. He offered his arm once more, and the pair made their way into the candlelit cave.

"I come down here when I need to be alone with my thoughts. And Cousin Cackle." He said with a grin, pulling a cigar from the pocket of his robe, lighting it over the small flame. A chilling laugh echoed off the walls from somewhere deep within the walls of the cavern.

"What –"Morticia began. Gomez shook his head with chuckle. "Cousin Cackle?" He nodded.

"I hope you will find as much solace in here as I do, when you need it." He whispered. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"It is a divine cave." Her eyes darted around, taking in the damp air. She felt him lean in, his face in her hair.

"If you like this, I think I have a few other rooms you may enjoy." He planted a warm kiss just below her ear. They exited the cave, extinguishing the candle as they went. Gomez escorted her back up the staircase, but instead of going to the right or the left, he opened the door at the top of the steps. As she stepped inside, her heart began pounding in her chest.

The room was vast with old wooden floors and various tables and statues covered in white sheets. The windows were stained glass, and from the ceiling hung 3 crystal chandeliers. As she walked, her footsteps echoed. She closed her eyes and imagined music playing in this grand ballroom. Her thoughts were interrupted when her husband slipped one hand onto her waist and the other into hers. Morticia couldn't find the words to express her delight, but Gomez could read her perfectly as he led her into a waltz.

"You know, they say you can tell how skilled a man is as a lover by the way he dances." She whispered. His half-lidded eyes met hers with a smile as he dipped her.

"And what is your assessment, querida?" His sultry voice made her tremble. She felt her face soften.

"I would say you're the best. My one and only." She allowed herself to giggle, something she was not fond of, but at the right moment… Her husband beamed at her.

"My darling, I've also heard you can tell how creative a lover a woman is by the way she dances." Morticia raised an eyebrow as Gomez once again dipped her low and kissed her chest before bringing her back up.

"And?" She breathed. They stopped dancing, Gomez took her hands and kissed them.

"You are my Van Goh". He sighed, leading her out of the ballroom. "We have one more stop."

She was breathless from dancing; her head was swimming with the joy of knowing they could dance together whenever they desired. They paused at the final door, it was heavy, metal, with several locks. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"This is the playroom." He said softly. She shivered. When he opened the door, it wasn't what she expected. If she was being honest, she didn't quite know what to expect. There was an immense table in the very center with several model trains set on tracks with various bridges placed on it. Off to the side was a rack like the one Gomez had in the bedroom, but for lying down rather than standing. In the opposite corner stood a large metal wheel with leather straps. She noted various weaponry as he had in his study, a variety of knives, clubs, maces, and whips. She shivered again, goosebumps surfacing on her skin. "I know this is probably a lot to take in, cara mia, but this is your house too, go anywhere you like. If there is anything you want, anything you need, just say the word." He clasped her hand and kissed her fingers. She eyed him lovingly, almost too shy to speak. He met her gaze and pulled her into him.

"Can we go back to the study?" She whispered into his lips. He nodded, too consumed by her to be puzzled about why she would want to go back to the study instead of the bedroom. Morticia gripped his hand firmly and nearly dragged him behind her as she hurried up the stairs towards their destination. She stopped and rested her back against the door, Gomez obliged and pressed his body to hers. She felt his need for her, and she loved it. "Mr. Addams, I have one request at this moment." His heavy lids lifted just enough to see her eyes glittering with desire.

"Your wish is my command, Mrs. Addams." He murmured into her neck, his arm bracing her as he opened the door. She made her way to the mahogany desk, shedding her robe, leaving Gomez to stand with his jaw on the floor. "My God, Tish." His hand shook as he brought his cigar back to his lips. She smiled at him as she perched herself on the desktop. He approached her, slowly, stalking as though she may run away if he moved too quickly. Slowly, she uncrossed her legs, revealing herself to him.

"I just want you to have something else to think about, when you're making all those important business decisions, mon amour." She purred.

"French…" Gomez groaned, settling his hips between her thighs. Her fingernails raked against his chest as she kissed his shoulder. He gently laid her back against the hard wood of his desk and smiled at how her thick black hair fanned out around her. Her fingers sunk into his forearms as he leaned forward to kiss her chest. He entered her in one fluid and effortless motion.

She felt her bare breasts rubbing against the softness of his robe, but she wanted to feel only him. Her fingers pushed it open and untied the knot at his waist, ensuring he would be as accessible to her as she was to him. The fact that she was a single woman only twenty-four hours ago was madness to her, but she felt she'd known her new husband all her life.

His low grunt brought her back to the present and she clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Gomez responded in kind, thrusting himself into her a bit harder, causing a pleasure-filled moan to float from her lips to his ears. She wanted more but couldn't find the words. Her hands slithered down his back, driving him further.

"Oh Tish, querida, I will never sign another paper without thinking about your perfect body lying right here." He was losing his breath, a few more strokes and he would reach his end. She wasn't far behind. Morticia sighed happily as she felt her husband's body slump against hers. "Tully will be here soon, cara mia. But I refuse to clean up this desk, I want the scent of you here forever." He growled.

"Tully. That's the attorney?" She asked absently, slowly sitting up, leaving behind a silhouette of perspiration. Gomez nodded, helping her off the desk. He retrieved her discarded robe and wrapped her in it before leading her back to the bedroom.

When Morticia entered, she discovered Lurch had unpacked her things and placed them carefully in the previously empty closet and dresser. Her toiletries had been stored in their bathroom around her sink. She marveled at how he seemed to know exactly how she wanted her things laid out. Gomez followed her as she touched each garment, trying to decide what to wear.

"What about this?" He removed a long black dress, covered in sequins with a plunging neckline and open back. She laughed, then touched his face when he frowned.

"That is for your eyes only, darling." She purred. His eyes widened as a grin spread across his lips.

"Oh." He hugged the gown before hanging it back up. "This then?" He extracted another garment. Much simpler and more comfortable, casual even, by her standards.

"Yes, that's perfect." She kissed his cheek as she laid out her shoes before disrobing for a shower. Gomez reached out and touched the curve of her hip as she walked to the bathroom and bit his lip.

"Wait. I'll join you."