Page 48 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

“Deal,” I said, as he fell onto the bed next to me. I climbed on top of him, straddling my man and smiling so hard my face hurt.

Stuff was about to get sweaty, sexy and good. We were both a hundred thousand percent committed. The odds were excellent for an orgasmic time.

“Holy hell,” Gideon said with an exhausted laugh as he pulled me in to a hug and kissed the top of my head.

My hair was no longer in a lovely upswept do. It was wild—as wild as the sex we’d had for the past hour. Our bed looked like a tornado had hit it, and I’d been kind of worried our friends and family might hear us. Whatever. I’d ceased to care about that after the first earthquake-inducing orgasm.

“This might sound insane, but I think married sex beats single sex.” I traced his full lips with my finger.

“I’m inclined to agree,” he said with the grin of a very satiated man. “But maybe we should go another round to make sure.”

I rolled over and checked my watch. “Can’t. We’ll be late to our own reception. You think four times wasn’t enough?”

He raised a brow and gave me a look. All he had to do was rake me over with his gorgeous eyes, and I was ready to go. Orgasms with my husband were beyond awesome. Like Lays Potato Chips… one, or four in my case, was never enough.

“A hundred times wouldn’t be enough,” he informed me in a voice so sexy, I considered taking him up on his offer.

“A hundred times in a row might kill us,” I pointed out with a giggle.

“Not a problem. We’re Immortal.” His smile was positively feral.

I was soooo tempted, but we had an eternity to make love. And we would take full advantage of that lovely fact.

“Fine point. Well made,” I said, reluctantly slipping out of his embrace and grabbing the dress the queens had provided for the reception. “However, we have an elegaaanza extravagaaaanza,” I elongated the words, mimicking the queens for dramatic effect, “to go to, and I want to dance with my husband and daughter. Plus, I’m pretty sure if we’re late, Candy Vargo will come up here and drag us to the party naked.”

“There’s a visual that just killed my libido,” he said with a groan as he put his tux back on.

“I’m good like that,” I told him, stepping into the amazing Prada wedges that went perfectly with the Marchesa gown the boys had chosen. While sequins weren’t normally my thing, the gown was to die for—the intricate threadwork woven in with teal sequins and floral applique was delicate and exquisite. The dress shimmered when I moved. It felt alive and magical on my body. In my wedding gown, I’d felt like a princess. In my party dress, I felt like a freaking queen. Quickly twisting my hair back up, I reapplied the lipstick that had been kissed off and was ready to rumble.

“I have a stunning wife,” Gideon said, admiring me.

“And I have a sexy badass husband,” I told him.

He kissed me sweetly and cupped my chin in his hand. “You happy?”

I sighed happily. I finally had everything I’d ever dreamed of and more than I could’ve ever imagined. I had great friends who always had my back, sisters and brothers who I cherished, my gram, my child, and the most delicious, handsome hunk of a husband that I loved more than life itself.

Our eyes met, and I told him with all sincerity, “More than I’ve ever thought possible.”

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me again. The warmth of his embrace, and the tenderness in his lips as they moved against mine nearly brought me to tears. I’d never felt so beautiful or wanted.

“I plan to make your happiness my only mission for the rest of our lives,” he whispered against my lips.

“You don’t even have to try to succeed at that,” I said, giving him a final kiss. As much as I was enjoying the moment, we had a lifetime of them coming, and our guests, who had taken time out of their lives to celebrate us, were waiting downstairs. “You ready to party with the crazies?”

“I am,” he replied, picking me up as if I weighed no more than a feather before whisking me down the stairs to the party.

It was time to get to the reception before the reception came to us.

“Let the festivities begin!” Wally shouted as Carl clapped his hands and produced a karaoke machine.

My hopes for a party without a version of Islands in the Stream sung in the key of X by Carl and Dirk was dashed. But I didn’t care. It wouldn’t be an extravaganza without karaoke sung by some tone-deaf drag queens—at least that’s what Wally had said.

Food and drink had been placed on long, elaborately decorated, flower-covered tables. Tim had cooked up a storm. There were hot dishes in all varieties—even vegetarian for me. It smelled rank, but he was so proud of himself that everyone partook. Mirror balls dropped from the tree branches and the queens had removed all the chairs from the ceremony and placed them at the large round tables that had magically appeared. A temporary dance floor had been centrally located, perfect for shaking your groove thing. The dead had already started, and parts were flying off them as they flapped their arms...or what was left of their arms in some of their cases.

I shook my head at the sight.

Watching three hundred ghosts do the Chicken Dance was something I’d never in my life thought I’d see. It got even weirder when Candy Vargo started clucking and pretending to lay an egg out of her butt. At least, she was having fun. She hadn’t even noticed that about a hundred specters had flown away in horror.

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