I had always been a believer of lust over love.
Sure, I've had my fair share of affectionate moments with affectionate men, but nothing beat the steaminess of my body mushed with a masculine one. The heat of our breaths mingling together in the cloud of gasps and moans separating us. The fire of a man's gaze as he stared deep into my hazel eyes, as his hands ignited the sense of my vanilla-and-cream skin and my moderately plump curves. Nothing beat that to me. The lust and pure desire that made up what we humans are.
But here I was, by my gorgeous sister, Leigh's, side as she weds a man she came to love more than lust for. No doubt the lust played an important role though, if the naughty tempting looks her husband, Jethro, kept sending her way during vows were anything to go by.
"I can't believe it. Leigh really is getting married."
I glanced at Leigh and I's youngest cousin and shrug. "Honestly, April, I'm not that surprised. I knew it the minute she wouldn't shut up about having to work with him. Remember that time?"
April nodded and smiled as a distant great-aunt came to greet us both. We peppered her withering cheeks with kisses and watched her strut rather energetically to her next granddaughter victim.
"Oh, I definitely remember. She called me while I was in Paris. Thrice. All she talked about was him."
"Well, at least Leigh'll be getting it from him constantly now." I leaned to whisper into April's ear, "All night, all day."
"Ew, Erika! God, will you ever stop being so vulgar. I just want to stay happy for Leigh. She deserves this."
I did, too—want to stay happy for Leigh. And she did deserve this happiness. Jethro might have been more than a pain in my side a couple times, but I see something real and almost uplifting about his and my sister's union. Leigh became an even better version of herself beside the man, and he in turn found more of his place in life with her on his arm. I'd be a fool to complain.
The ceremony took its sweet time prancing from one event on the itinerary to another. Finally, the time came for Jethro to introduce the family to the yacht he surprised his wife with, aptly named 'Rae' which was my sister's middle name. Only immediate family and very close friends to the bride and groom were allowed on board, so I linked my arm with April's and sped ran up the stairs to inspect Leigh's extravagant present.
The walls and flooring were entirely of oak, and all the kitchen and minibar walls oozed luxury that only polished granite stones could. The sophistication made my senses tingle, so much so that it reminded me of the set of my most recent movie. Images of prospective ideas for the director and my agent flooded into my mind. I already pictured my character swimming in the luxury she was born in, though her ending shone in far less glitter.
"You're Erika, right?"
I jumped at the depth and broadness of the stranger's voice. Even before I turned to address this mannerless man, I already hated him. Hated to admit that I found his voice one of the most sensual I'd heard in a while. And trust me; I'd worked with my fair share of Hollywood heartthrobs.
When I did turn, I forgot there was ground beneath my feet. I managed a nonchalant nod after sizing this man up. "That's me. Do I know you?"
"I was watching you at the wedding. I'm Fiero, one of Jethro's friends."
Damn, Jethro sure packed the fleet of gods into his circle, didn't he?
"Oh. Can I help you then?"
"I'd love it if you had time for a chat—"
"Get away from her, Fi."
Fiero and I turned simultaneously, and my smile widened when Leigh swayed haughtily towards us. Her midnight blue dress pulled the diamonds on her neck to imitate the night sky. If I were gay, I would be all too happy to devour my sister.
Leigh practically shooed Fiero away, and I didn't miss the indifference in his demeanor afterwards. Seemed as though he were speaking my language; a thrust and dump type of guy.
"Exactly. You're lucky I'm here to warn them away," Leigh said, still eyeing Fiero lingering in the mini bar we stood in.
"He's hot though. Didn't you hear his voice?"
"Erika, I've heard his voice in instances I wish I could unhear his voice in. But that's whatever." Leigh pulled my gaze away from her husband's apparently wayward friend and grinned the world at me. Instantly, my eyes welled up and I poured all the tears into the nook of her neck.
"Oh God, Rixie," Leigh said with a chuckle. "I'm not dying."
"Right. It's only marriage. Traitorous little marriage. We promised to keep it PG 21 forever."
I stepped back to admire the beauty of my older sister through watery eyes. She smiled her thousand-dollar smile, and I felt like Jethro, blessed to have that smile wake me up every morning for the rest of their lives. I guess the universe decided I already got more than my fair share of it.
"Jethro is an amazing man. He makes me the happiest, Erika." I chuckled through my tears and sniffed the snot clogging my nostrils back in. "Maybe one day, you'll understand that marriage can be just as fulfilling as casual sex."
Now I swore my sister was tapped. Marriage might be bliss for those fortunate enough to wed people like Jethro, and that's only because after all said and done, he brings the truck home in bed. Yeah, I definitely intended to stick to my principles, but I gave Leigh another large hug and watched her saunter away to attend to our parents.
I wandered about the large, luxuriously furnished yacht. I played with my index finger ring as I sipped my wine and took the space in. Jethro got details about what Leigh loved in the décor to a T. It was like he swam in her head for a week and begot the ideas. The attention to and execution of detail was impeccable, but of course I'd never tell him that. Leigh would perform all that gushing and ooh-ing once our families were gone.
My heeled feet took me to the balcony at the back of the yacht. I listened the chitter chatter of our family and Jethro's laughing not so demurely at some joke or other with a smile on my face. The sea breeze wafted my hair into a million directions, rudely messing up my tousled rich brown waves. My phone pinged in my purse, so I balanced my wine glass on the balcony railing—April kept freaking out about where the hell I was. Just then, my ears picked up solid footsteps. Saint Laurent, for sure. Only YSL shoes made obnoxious noises like that. Lord knew they'd end their contract with me if they ever catch me uttering that in public.
"God, April. I told you not to keep buying these Saint Laurent shoes. They sound ridiculous—"
There approaching me at the fullest of speeds was a man as muscled as Jethro, but an inch taller than the latter. My shock at this giant man racing to me stunned me still for a split second before I dove out of the way in time to see him save my wine glass from toppling into the wide open ocean.
Pants and gasps escaped our lips as we fought to control our breaths and understand, somehow, what had just happened. My eyes were fixed on the hardwood floor and I smiled to myself when I noticed them. "They were Saint Laurent."
"Excuse me?"
"Your shoes, they're YSL. I figured." Why are my eyes still on the floor??
"Here. You damn near fed your wine to the sharks. They're already dangerous when sober."
I chuckled, and when I did finally lift my head, the sight before my eyes was what I could only be described as the stuff of legends.