June 13, 2022
After all the guests had gone on the night of the wedding, Sam and Mercedes went upstairs and passed out in the Evans' guest room. The next day, in the early afternoon, the newlyweds loaded their luggage into Mary Evans' Camry and the senior Mrs. Evans drove them to the airport. During the drive, Mercedes tried to get Sam to finally tell her where they were going.
"You said you'd tell me after the wedding," she reminded him.
Sam held up one finger wisely and smirked, "Yeah but I didn't say when after the wedding."
Mrs. Evans giggled at the two at the same time that Mercedes leaned to the back seats to playfully swat her husband. "Come on Sam. You know I don't like surprises."
"You always say that, Benz. Yet every time I do surprise you, you love it."
With nothing to refute that, the singer gave up with him and situated herself back in the front seat. She pouted momentarily, and then looked to her new mother-in-law, "He didn't tell you where we're going, did he, Mrs. Evans?"
Mary Evans smiled, "Actually yes, Dwight and I know."
Mercedes gawked, "You're kidding."
"No ma'am," she giggled again. "Your mother and father know too."
Sagging in her seat, Mercedes childishly muttered to herself, "I hate surprises."
"You hate being left out of the loop is more like it," amended Sam.
Mercedes silence was enough of confirmation for that. Mary Evans seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the car ride with her daughter-in-law and son. When they reached the small airport, Mary hugged them both 'goodbye' and wished them a good time on their honeymoon.
"I love you both," she said before returning to her car to leave.
Mercedes started to cart her luggage toward the main entrance where they had been dropped off, but Sam spoke up, "Whoa, hold on there. Where are you going?"
Brow arched, Mercedes said in an obvious way, "Inside the airport."
Sam gave her a knowing smile while shaking his head, "You're going the wrong way." Rather than walking toward the automatic double doors, he led them down the length of the building and out to the nearest landing strip. Waiting on the tarmac was a small private jet. Sam stopped, and so did Mercedes.
"A private plane ride?" she asked, unable to fight her smile.
"Yep," Sam told her with an answering smile.
They carried on; the pilot greeted them just outside the plane while an attendant relieved them of their luggage. Once they boarded, Sam took two Dramamine while Mercedes asked him again where they were going. Sam continued to keep her in suspense, enjoying all the childish grunts and grumbles she would respond with. Eventually the Dramamine kicked in and he knew he would be unconscious soon.
"Is this going to be a long flight?" Mercedes asked as he started falling asleep.
Settled into his seat, Sam closed his eyes, "Maybe. And don't bother bugging the attendant while I'm sleeping. He already knows not to tell you either."
Mercedes clicked her tongue, followed by an exasperated sigh. For a moment, she considered taking a Dramamine as well, just to sleep through whatever was left of the flight. But she knew she was too agitated with curiosity to sleep, so she decided to try watching a movie from her phone instead.
While scrolling through her options, the annoyance of being in the dark started to be worn down by her exhaust from the previous day. She hadn't slept much during the night—simply from being too ecstatic about how right their wedding day was. The thought stayed with her, and she hoped it would never leave, but her body was pestering her for the sleep she lacked. After requesting a pillow from the lone flight attendant, Mercedes kindly propped her pillow against Sam's shoulder, leaned across the armrest and slept for the remaining hours of the flight.
Mercedes' eyes snapped open, the moment the jet's wheels touched down. Instinctively, she sat right up, looking a little befuddled until she remembered that she and Sam were on a plane. She stretched her arms and then put in the necessary efforts to wake her husband. Once he came to, Sam stretched as well, and smiled sleepily at her.
"Enjoy your nap?" asked Mercedes.
Nodding, Sam said, "Mmhm. And when we get off the plane, we'll be onto our next destination."
Mercedes raised her brow and looked out of one of the nearby windows. "So we're not there yet?" While the sunset looked gorgeous, she couldn't tell where they were; the airport they landed in hardly gave anything away.
"Well, you don't want to spend our honeymoon at the airport do you? I know I don't."
She pursed her lips and muttered something under her breath that sounded like, "Smart ass."
True to Sam's word, they were escorted to a town car, directly from the jet. Though he had still been a tad drowsy from the medicine, Mercedes' growing excitement was becoming more apparent and contagious. He knew she wouldn't pester him further about where he'd had them flown, so he fought the grogginess of the Dramamine and watched her with an amused smirk.
Mercedes was staring out of the town car, trying to sport something—anything that might tip her off on where they were. So far, she gathered that they were near the ocean. And unlike California's Pacific coast, the water here looked inviting for anyone. The other thing she noticed was that there were a lot of trees. Mercedes bit her lip as realization lit up her face.
"Oh my God, Sam!"
He naïvely grinned, "Yes?"
"Are we where I think we are? And by that, I mean St. Lucia?"
Still grinning innocently, his shoulders slowly raised, then dropped, "Maybe."
"Oh my God!" she repeated, happily clutching his arm. "You're kidding!"
Sam's smirk turned slightly prideful, "Nope. I remember you saying last year that you really wanted to go here one day. Plus we've never been on a cruise so…I went with the next best thing."
Her face scrunched, "A cruise? The next best thing?"
With impeccable timing, a small harbor along the Canaries coast came into view. Sam pointed to her window and when Mercedes looked back out, her mouth fell open. Docked in the harbor was a luxurious yacht. From the outside it looked far too massive for two people, but when they neared it they spotted two uniformed men standing in front of the yacht's entrance.
Mercedes looked to Sam for an explanation, which he easily answered. "One's the captain and the other guy's probably his first mate or something. They've got their own part of the boat for sleeping and stuff, but the rest is ours until Saturday."
Once the car came to a stop, Mercedes hurried out of the car like a kid on Christmas morning. Sam watched after her, particularly amused by her excitement, but his eyes were distracted by the curves of her backside. With a smirk, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out to join her.
The second guy, whom they quickly learned was an attendant, relieved them of their luggage and encouraged them to enter the yacht. Mercedes started to advance the ramp, but Sam gripped her arm, stopping her before she got inside.
"Sam, what are you—"
The rest of her inquiry was sucked into a gasp as Sam lifted her into his arms like the bride she was. Mercedes instinctively secured her arms around his neck while he carried her through the threshold.
"I've been waiting to do that," he admitted with a shameless grin.
Mercedes treated him to a tender kiss before being set back to her feet. After the attendant shuffled past with their things, he started to descend down a concealed set of stairs. The captain followed his path, but before taking to the stairs, he told the couple, "Please have a look around. If you have any questions, feel free to summon the attendant, Luka over the intercom." He gestured to the white box on the nearby wall, and then swiftly went down the stairs.
As the steps grew faint and a door closed below, Sam slipped a hand into one of his wife's denim back pockets. Mercedes reactively cocked a brow at him, but she also smirked when his fingers molded to her rounded backside.
"You're not gonna at least wait 'til we get to a room?" she asked.
"Technically," Sam bent his head, grazing his lips along the side of her neck, "we are in a room."
Mercedes looked over his shoulder at the spacious, intimately-lit common room which made up the majority of the yacht's upper level; the rest was a kitchenette. In the common room, there was a cohesive arrangement of chairs, couches and end tables, all within view of a large, mounted flat screen television. A couple of blankets were draped over the two couches, and the tables had minimal decorative fixings.
Sure, they could have a lot of fun with all the furniture, but Mercedes couldn't ignore the fact that the captain and attendant were lurking around somewhere. Sam seemed pretty bent on making her forget about them though. His lips were a little more fervent than the grazing now and it was slowly driving her crazy.
She rolled her eyes shut in an attempt to steel herself but it didn't work. Sam knew all the ways to turn her to putty in his hands; quickly, she was becoming unhinged.
His lips trailed suckled kisses down the groove of her neck and when he reached the wide collar of her striped blouse, he used his nose to slide it off her round shoulders. He heard Mercedes' breaths become slightly more audible than before as his other hand came around her waist and slipped underneath the hem of her shirt. There was something to be said about the smooth planes of her rich, chocolate skin and he loved exploring them, every chance he got.
Mercedes arched her back, causing her breasts to smash into his chest. She snaked her hands around his sides, gripping the thin cotton of his t-shirt to show she wanted him just as badly as he did. While biting her lip, she tilted her chin up to invite Sam to tend to her throat. He complied by bringing his trail of kisses back near her neck. She soon felt his hand leave her back pocket to assist the other one in lifting her blouse off.
"New bra?" Sam asked—his sage hues momentarily fixed on the lacy black corset bra. More than the bra, he was admiring the way they cupped her voluptuous chest.
"Maybe," she mocked with a cheeky grin.
Sam grinned back and then bent his knees. When he stood completely upright again, his hands were tucked under Mercedes' thighs, carrying her further into the common room.
Mercedes locked her legs around Sam's hips. She gazed down at him—something she was rarely able to do—and kissed his lips. A few times, she pulled away, but not without some teasing nips to his bottom lip. She soon found herself looking up at Sam again; he sat her down on one of the couches.
"You have too many clothes on," she told him, reaching for his jeans.
He allowed her to unbutton and unzip his pants, but his hands came to the waistline and pulled them down to his ankles. As soon as he went to step out of them, the entire yacht gave one sharp jolt away from the dock, knocking Sam off balance and onto his back.
Mercedes scooted to the edge of the couch to peer over his knees, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just wasn't expecting that," he answered with a low chuckle. "Guess we're heading out to sea." He started to sit up, but Mercedes' rise from the couch enticed him to only prop himself on his elbows.
The singer removed her jeans, leaving her lower half clad in boy shorts that matched her new bra. She pulled her the scrunchie out of her ponytail, letting the long, thick layers spill down her shoulders. While beaming a seductive grin at her husband, she lowered herself to the floor and straddled his hips. Although she hadn't said it, she still felt like he was overdressed, so she took care of that with some assistance from Sam.
Shamelessly, her eyes probed over his bare skin and all its muscular glory. Her hands started near Sam's pelvis and ran slowly up his torso, giving him goosebumps before she reached his shoulders.
Sam exercised some of his muscle by roughly switching places with Mercedes. He grinned when she gasped, finding herself now on her back. After brushing strands of her weave from her face, Sam crushed his lips to hers while grinding his stiff crotch to hers in a teasing manner.
Mercedes moaned against his persistent lips, curling her acrylics into his back. She tore her mouth from his for air. "Damn tease," she breathed.
He caressed her thighs, running his hands in gruff circles along her skin, and then seized her lips once more; his hands only left her thighs long enough to lessen the friction between their pelvises.
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