This chapter rated (a strong) R.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"What?" she whispered, searching his eyes for meaning.
"I called the board earlier this morning and told them I'd only take the job if there was one for me in Paris…and there is," he explained with a simple smile.
Rachel's eyes began to water. She wasn't sure she was hearing him correctly, and this had all happened so fast. She placed a hand on his chest to steady herself.
"Ross…" she trailed off, too stunned to even speak. He stroked her arms.
"Please tell me this is something you want," he coaxed, his voice filled with compassion and a very evident wish to please her.
"I, um…I need to sit down." Her voice small and confused. She lowered herself onto a chair behind her, staring straight ahead, lost in thought. Ross kneeled down in front of her and placed a hand on her thigh.
"Listen," he began, rubbing her leg, "I can't believe I'm actually about to say this…but I think you should call Mark when we get back home."
This suggestion definitely caught her attention, cutting her reverie in half and prompting her to look at him straight in the eye. She saw nothing but loving warmth and hopefulness there. She could tell he really wanted this for her.
"Ross, sweety, this would be amazing," she finally spoke up, placing her hand over his, "but…"
"But what?" he asked, when she didn't really have an excuse.
"There's so much we don't know! I mean, I doubt the position Mark promised is even open anymore, and I lost the lease on the apartment I'd found, and…"
"Shhh, honey, look…I know there's a lot we don't know, but we can find it all out! We'll make some calls when we get back to New York and see just how realistic all of this is. Nothing's been decided yet, but…I really want this for us…for you."
Smiling widely, she shook her head, not at his proposition but at his propensity for making her smile and knowing exactly what to say. When a silent tear traveled down her cheek, he brushed it away with the pad of his thumb and she laughed.
"I've been doing that a lot today," she joked, referring to her crying. It WAS her wedding day—it was to be expected. "Boy, a lot sure is changing, isn't it?"
"Not unless you want it to" he replied.
After a long pause, filled with a little more deliberation by Rachel, she finally stood up and nodded her head.
"Okay…okay, I think we should try this," she affirmed.
"Yeah?" he asked, smiling and settling his hands on her waist. She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Yeah, I think it could be really good."
"Rach, that's great! Oh, I'm so happy we're going to try to do this."
"Okay, well, come on! Tell me about this big shot job they're offering you over there!" she asked enthusiastically.
"Well, uh, all they really told me was that the position was at the National Museum of Natural History, and that I'd have opportunities to guest lecture at the American University of Paris. Other than that, I don't know, I guess we'll just have to see."
"Yeah, well, we're going to have to wait and see about a lot, I guess."
"How about, for now," he proposed calmly, taking her hand and guiding her toward the door, "we just enjoy the rest of our wedding day..."
"…and night," she finished for him.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Back in their hotel suite that night, after an exceptionally long reception, filled with drinking and dancing and laughter, the newlyweds began winding down. Ross got out of his tux has quickly as possible, changing into a pair of comfy khakis and a plain navy blue t-shirt, while Rachel (regretfully) hung up her wedding dress in exchange for a little white sun dress.
"Well," Rachel sighed, "I guess the wedding's over."
Ross, sensing she was probably going through the same thing Monica did after her wedding, pulled her into a big hug and kissed the top of her head.
"Ah, but the honeymoon's just beginning," he joked. She smiled playfully and cocked an eyebrow at him, running her hands up and down his back.
"Oh yeah? Well, what do you suggest we do first?"
As if she even needed to ask. Before she hardly get the words out of her mouth, he was already sucking on her neck and kissing her bare shoulder, pulling at the hem of the short dress. She giggled and pushed him away.
"No, come on! We have another 3 days for that! It's only 11, and I don't want this day to be over yet," she whined. He sighed, disappointed and a little frustrated, but nodded to placate her.
"Okay, okay. How about, uh—"
"Oh, I know!" she chirped, clapping her hands together. "Let's get everyone together and go swimming!"
"Sweety, isn't that a little dangerous? You know, after sunset is the prime time for shark attacks on the Southern Atla—"
"Oh, don't be such a baby," she scolded, pushing him towards the bathroom. "It'll be fun! Now, put your suit on and I'll call everyone and tell them to meet in the lobby in 10 minutes."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The group of seven, including Mike, had found a seemingly abandoned and serene patch of beach about a quarter mile away from the cliffs. Joey brought along a cooler of beer and Monica, at the last second, thought to borrow a stereo and a few lanterns from the hotel. They had their own little exclusive party going on by midnight, wading in the tide, drinking beer, laughing and listening to the radio. They'd left Emma with their parents for the evening, all four of whom took the opportunity to ogle over her.
The stereo was emitting sounds of, appropriately enough, "Swallowed in the Sea" off the new Coldplay album.
Down in the water, Ross and Rachel waded up to their waists, Rachel giggling when the occasional wave would loft their bodies upward, and Ross somewhat warily looking around for signs of sharks.
"Will you stop that?" Rachel reprimand. "There are no sharks! We're like 4 feet in! You can still see the bottom!"
"I'll have you know that, just last week, a little boy in Alabama, swimming in the Gulf, was atta—"
Rachel silenced him by wrapping her arms around his back and kissing him deeply, practically toppling him backwards. They sunk into it, both literally and physically, falling to their knees in the water and submerging themselves up to their shoulders.
"Hmm," he moaned when they finally parted, "I guess I'll just take my chances." She patted him on the chest and nodded.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
"I have a surprise for you," he revealed.
"Oh, really?" She seemed very pleased with this, getting excited in that typical Rachel 'I love surprises' sort of way. She draped her arms around his neck. "What is it?"
"I made some calls today during the reception…" he began, dragging her along. She looked excited and intrigued, but her face still dropped a little.
"Come on, Ross, you shouldn't have done that. I thought we agreed we weren't going to deal with this until we got home."
"Yeah, I know, but I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to enjoy myself until I sorted some things out, so…I made some calls," he explained, and from the way he was faintly smiling and rubbing her back, the news must be good, she thought. She couldn't resist asking.
"Okay, well don't leave me hanging. What is it?"
"Well, I had to pull a few strings, but between calling Ralph Lauren and—"
"What? You called my work? Ross, what if I can't find a job in Paris? God, that wasn't smart! Now I'm going to—"
"Shhh, sweety, relax. I didn't tell them who I am—well, not who I REALLY am, anyway," he smirked, obviously proud of himself. "Your name was never mentioned."
Rachel was stunned. She couldn't believe that Ross, of all people, had actually managed to pull something off smoothly. She was still skeptical, though.
"Okay…tell me more…"
"Well, to make a long story short, I managed to get in touch with Mark…"
"And…?" she asked, taking a deep breath.
"…and he said the job's still yours, if you want it," he finished, smiling with both his mouth and eyes. It wasn't long before she was smiling, too, from ear to ear, and tightened her arms around him for a hug.
"It's almost too good to be true, isn't it?" she whispered, leaning her head against his. "I mean, it's us! Things never work out for us!" she joked.
"Well, I guess things are changing…"
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
They got back to their hotel room that night just before 1, having to practically rip Emma away from their parents. After tucking her in, they retreated to their bedroom to wash up from the ocean and settle down for the evening.
They rinsed off in the shower and dried their hair, Rachel insisting on blow drying it, for which Ross made fun of her, joking that she had to get ready even to go to sleep, while all he ever did was strip down to his boxers.
"That's why I'm prettier than you, sweety," she playfully quipped, slipping into a pair of white boy-short underwear and a small white tank-top.
She laid down on top of the comforter on her stomach, turning the TV to a movie channel and smiling to herself. She knew even the insinuation of watching television on their wedding night, instead of doing other things, would drive Ross insane. Sure enough, when he emerged from the bathroom to find her (pretending to be) watching "You've Got Mail", his jaw dropped to the floor. He'd been promised an unforgettable evening of mind-blowing sex…
"Uh, what are you doing?"
"Hm? Oh, I love this movie!" she exclaimed, feigning ignorance.
"Are you kidding me?" he asked incredulously, his voice monotonous and his stare blank.
"'Bout what, sweety? Do you want to watch something else?" She smiled challengingly at him, not backing down from her little flirtatious routine.
"Uh, yeah, how about you taking your clothes off?" he quipped, obviously teasingly but also with a definitely hint of eagerness.
To further his point, he jumped onto the bed on top of her, holding his weight up with his arms on both sides of her, but still proceeding to kiss the back of her neck vigorously. She smiled to herself, feeling a definite bulge beginning to grow and insinuate itself firmly against her ass.
"You mean you hadn't rather watch Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks get it on?" she asked sarcastically, still not giving in to his advances.
He decided this question didn't even deserve a verbal response, instead opting to answer by slipping one finger into the waistband of her underwear, grazing the skin just above her ass with his knuckle. He knew how sensitive that spot was. All the while, he continued sucking and biting vehemently on her neck and down her back. Rachel closed her eyes and let the sensation wash over her. Slowly but surely, she could feel herself getting wet and goosebumps tickle her skin.
"Mmm, okay," she finally whispered. "I give up."
"Mm hm," he smugly acknowledged between kisses and bites. "Thought so."
He made his way down her back to her waist and finally to where his finger was tracing circles. When he placed his mouth there, massaging the skin with his tongue, he felt her tremble a little and heard her breath hitch. She moved to turn over, but he laid a strong hand on her back to stop her.
"No, don't," he directed. She wondered what he was about to do.
Boy, she thought, if only she'd known in high school that, beneath his shy, awkward exterior, he was such an unbelievably amazing lover. He'd mastered the equilibrium between assertiveness and tenderness. He knew exactly when to demand things of her—when to be aggressive—and when to be passive and gentle. Right now, judging by the way she was squirming and moaning softly, he knew to take control and be assertive…and that's exactly what he was going to do.
He removed the little yellow boy-shorts (though he hated to see them go) and slid two fingers gently inside her, causing her to arch her back and lift her ass off the bed, giving him better access. She groaned as he alternated between licking her in long, even strokes and pushing his fingers in and out of her.
"Holy shit, Ross!" she screamed. She had to bury her face in the covers to keep from waking up Emma.
After a few minutes, he stopped and moved up to put his face beside hers. Her eyes were still closed and she was panting heavily, her face smothered to the mattress. He smiled at what had obviously been work well down, settling beside her and propping his head up on his bent elbow.
"Ah, why didn't you finish?" she huffed, not sounding exactly disappointed, but definitely sexually frustrated from being pushed to the edge and then having him stop. He tucked a stand of hair behind her ear and slid his thumb into her mouth, watching her roll her tongue around it. God, he loved her mouth.
"I didn't want you to cum that way," he whispered, licking the shell of her ear.
She took a minute to recover, rolling over onto her back and closing her eyes. He laid his head on her chest and intertwined his fingers with hers, kissing her collarbone and listening to her breath. Tonight would be slow and drawn-out. They'd take their time— he'd take his time with her. If ever a night deserved that, it was their wedding night.
"You looked beautiful today," he whispered. "I could barely believe it."
"You could barely believe I looked beautiful?" she teased, giving him a hard time.
"You know what I meant. I love you so much."
"I love you, too, baby," she whispered back, stroking his hair.
He rolled over on top of her, lifting the tank top over her head and pushing her legs far apart to accommodate himself. She helped him undress himself and he began the act almost painfully slowly, teasing her by dipping in just a little and then withdrawing, causing her to moan and squeal, and then pushing in completely the next time, taking her by surprise.
After a few aching moments of his slow teasing, he gave into the contortions of her face that told him she needed more and was tired of waiting, so he kissed her deeply and picked her up in one swooping motion, hooking his arms under her knees and supporting her weight with his hands beneath her ass. He stood up suddenly from the bed with her and turned to press her against the nearest wall, causing her to yelp a little from surprise. The way he could support her weight so seamlessly and easily turned her on to no end.
"Oh, wow, you're good at that, aren't you?" she smiled, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and engaging him in a deep, fiery kiss as he thrust into her roughly and deeply, banging her back hard against the wall. She groaned with his succeeding thrust, clawing at his back and moaning a breathy "yes" or unintelligible "ugh" into his ear every now and then.
Still not satisfied with how much he thought he was pleasing her, and determined to make this the longest, loudest, most satisfying, most versatile lovemaking session they'd ever engaged in, he moved them again, this time to the chair in the corner.
With her legs still wrapped around his waist, he moved his arms from under her legs to merely holding her, his hands against her back, and sat down on the chair with her straddling his lap. This whole time, they never broke their kiss, their tongues massaging one another and slowing down a little.
"Go slowly," she commanded, lowering herself onto his dick and moaning from deep in her throat when she took him in to the hilt. They both knew this position was practically the only one she could orgasm in, but she still wanted it to last, and knew he'd instinctively try to please her as quickly as possible if she didn't tell him to take it easy.
So, he wrapped his arms around her back and buried his face in her chest and reveled in the feeling of her rocking slowly back and forth and in lazy, careful circles. He'd lower his hands down to her hips every so often and enjoy the way she moved them so deliberately, like she was mastering a dance. He groaned a little when she arched her back, biting down on her shoulder to stifle a particularly loud outburst. He could taste the salt on her skin. As far as he could tell, it was the closest anyone would ever get to actually tasting 'sexy'.
"Rachel…" he muttered, trying to let her know this pace was killing him. He needed to thrust harder—to cum inside her. He'd been painfully hard for over half an hour now, and the suspense and build-up was getting to him. He wanted to finish, and to make her finish.
"Okay," she breathed through a smile, amused at his impatience.
She let him place his hands firmly on her ass, watching his biceps and forearms in awe, the muscles contracted beneath his skin as he slid her quickly up and down his shaft.
She had to admit it felt amazing, even though she was a bigger fan of slow sex, as he increased the pace and thrust harder. She couldn't resist the urge to meet his thrusts, pushing down on his cock as it slid up into her. She let out an especially loud, drawn-out groan when he came inside her, pushing her over the edge and causing her to follow in suit.
They sat like that for a few minutes after, with his face buried in neck and stroking one another's backs. Finally, she stood up, forcing him to pull out of her, and lead him over to the bed. They climbed in and knotted themselves up in one anther.
"Bet Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan can't do THAT for you," he joked.
"No, monsieur," she muttered. In French.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO