The McCain Marriage Contract

"Drive!" I yelled at Dave, my driver. My tone must have startled him because he just drove in silence, a thing I previously assumed he was incapable of. I knew I had hurt his feelings; I was never one to be rude to my staff. But his feelings were the very least of my problems. I had this whole situation with Valerie to commandeer.

I felt bad about the way I spoke to her after the wedding. The Valerie I knew deserved better than those words I said, but then that was the problem -- I didn't know this new person, this wife of mine. She was a complete puzzle to me and she wasn't giving me any clues to help figure her out. If she had any financial challenge she could have come to me, not my dad. And I would not use her this way.

That was the only thing that made sense -- that she was marrying me for money. I could not imagine any other reason why. And the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became. If she wanted to remain a stranger to me, I would treat her as I did every other female stranger I met.

Valerie Jensen-McCain was about to be my sex toy.

It didn't give me any pride or joy thinking about her in this manner, but it made me feel like I had some control of this overwhelming situation. My dad and Valerie might have forced me into this, but who said I couldn't take a hold of the situation and shape it to my own pleasure?

We finally arrived at my mansion near Twin Peaks and I mumbled an apology to Dave. I didn't wait for him to acknowledge it before I rushed into the mansion. I went straight to my room; I had to fix myself a shot of tequila before I lost my mind. Without turning on the light I flopped on the bed. I craved the comfort of its softness and the scent of the sheets. But what I felt was not soft; it was hard, the hardness of human bone underneath thin skin. There was a person in my bed. I got up instantly and fiddled for the light switch in the darkness. "Valerie?"

She didn't stir one bit. If I was a kidnapper or an assassin, I'd have done my job with no resistance from her whatsoever.

I shook her severally. She yawned and stretched her body, giving me a rich view of her side boob through the armhole of her sleeveless nightgown; her oversized night robe had slipped off her shoulder. I swallowed hard. She yawned and sat upright on the bed. "Hey, husband. Welcome home. We couldn't find you anywhere so your dad asked his driver to drop me off at your place. He said I could stay in this room."

I didn't know what to say to her in that moment but I knew I was becoming horny. One look at that side boob brought back memories. We were fifteen the first and only time she let me touch her boobs, during a Truth-or-Dare game. Even then I had the makings of a curious lover -- my hands traveled of their own accord beyond the confines of her still budding breasts, going down until they found their way under her short dress, when she still wore short dresses. I only stopped when we heard her mother's car pulled into the driveway.

Now all I wanted was to forget all of the terrible things that happened in all of that time we lost. I wanted us to go back to being ourselves from eleven years ago. I wanted us to have no secrets, no hatred for each other. And so I leaned forward and kissed her.

I expected her to push me away and even slap me across the cheek. I was pleasantly surprised when she yanked my shoulder and pulled me in. She gave a soft moan as she kissed me back, and it was sexy. She moved her tongue around my mouth with ease, and I knew she enjoyed tasting me as much as I enjoyed tasting her.

All the confusion and anger of earlier was forgotten, dumped in a heap with the bits of clothing we managed to yank of our bodies. I was wearing only my briefs now, and she only the sleeveless nightgown. Maybe this marriage wasn't a terrible idea after all.

I stared at her, unsure whether to proceed even though the bulge in my briefs was encouraging me to. Then I saw the encouragement in her eyes, too. She wanted me and her need was as urgent as mine.

My eager mouth was at work again, this time on her breasts, these breasts that had mesmerized me from the second I laid eyes on them. They were in my mouth now, one at a time, and they felt like heaven. I had been with so many women and suckled on so many breasts but there was something scintillatingly different about this pair. There were specially made for my pleasure, and I allowed my tongue to work on them. Simultaneously I let my hands go in search of the treasure they were itching for.

My hands moved from her long legs upward, very slowly and gently, and suddenly they stopped moving. And we both froze.

Damn it, the scar was massive!

I stood up immediately, ruffled. She must have felt the same way because she clutched the bed covers to her chest and looked away from me.

No. I could not be there, in the same room with her. I could not be married to her. I could not be making love to her. Not after all that had happened. I picked up my clothes from the ground and hurried out of the room, without saying a word to her.

My father, with all of his smartness and diplomacy, was wrong this time. I couldn't spend one more day with Valerie, and I didn't care if it cost me my inheritance. This marriage was destined to fail.