Six and Counting

Chapter 22

                                          Grand Wailea Resort, Maui, Hawaii, New Year’s Day

                Emily woke early the day after her wedding, probably because she wasn’t used to the time change yet, but most likely because she didn’t want to waste a moment being Mrs. Shane McNeal. Glancing down next to her in the bed Emily studied her new husband, on his stomach as usual, dark hair fanned across his pillow, longer, the way she liked it, and arms outspread. Sound asleep, he barely made any noise. Emily knew he was tired; she smiled to herself, knowing she was the reason for his exhaustion.

             They had had one hell of a wedding night; by all rights, she should be zonked out right beside him. Instead, she felt a little like Scarlett O’Hara after Rhett bedded her: wanting to stretch, yawn, and greet the day with a light-hearted “Fiddle dee dee.” And she already wanted more of what Shane willingly supplied, so, scooting closer to her husband, Emily leaned on his naked back and kissed an exposed ear lobe, swirling her tongue along it, gratified to feel him move. Slightly.

             She repeated the motion, and Shane turned his face toward her, eyes tightly closed as he said, “Again? What time is it? Shane Jr. seems to be a bit sluggish.”

                Glancing at the bedside clock, Emily grimaced, as she answered sheepishly, “Eight.”

                Blood-shot brown eyes sprang open as Shane rose on his forearms, narrowing his unfocused look on his wife and squawking, “Eight in the morning? Shit, we just got back to sleep, like, two hours ago!”

                Emily pulled back slightly from her husband, looking down at her fingers pleating the sheet as she said self-consciously, “Can I help it if you make me want you more?”

                Shane’s gaze softened, taking in Emily’s springy curls tangled all over her head, his whisker burns along her neck and chest, and some tell-tale “bruise- like” marks she’d need to cover with make- up. Damn, he loved her so much he really wanted to make love again, but time was taking its toll on him, as was the sleep deprivation; to put it bluntly, he couldn’t get it up after the night they’d put in. He’d lost count after four. Wait, did the shower count?...

                “Sweetheart, there’s no other way to say it; my pecker’s pooped. You married a middle-aged man, Mrs. McNeal. Even though, personally, I feel I performed admirably, I’m gonna need a bit more recuperation time. Unless, of course, you care to try some resuscitation techniques you might have learned recently,” and he smirked at his own cleverness even as Emily leaned over and kissed his lips.

                Pulling back Emily said, “Go back to sleep. Of course you’ve been the consummate lover,” she soothed. “Why do you think I want more?”

                She curled up along his back, since Shane had taken her at her word and flopped to his side, breathing evening out within minutes as the warmth of her body lulled him back to sleep. When Shane began to emit gentle snores, Emily slipped out of bed so as not to disturb him, pulling on one of the fluffy white terry cloth robes the hotel furnished along with matching slippers. Making a quick cup of coffee in the pot provided, Emily then padded out to the palm tree shaded lanai to watch the waves curl in practically at the edge of the private beachfront suite they occupied.

                Seating herself at the patio table and sipping the delicious Kona brew, Emily briefly wondered if Kimberly and the kids were up and about already. She knew the time change would affect her children as well as the rest of them, but for how long was anyone’s guess.