0986388661 (R) (28 page)

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Authors: Melissa Collins

Tags: #New Adult, #Romance

BOOK: 0986388661 (R)
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“Only ever you, baby,” I promise, my words holding more meaning than she can fathom right now. Teasing the wide head of my cock over her slick flesh, my legs begin to shake. Only Grace does this to me. Makes doing the simplest things, like breathing and holding my body steady, far too impossible. Easing into her, I revel in the warm deliciousness of her tight body opening for me. Her hands grip at the pillow, white knuckled and flexing in pleasure.

“Oh, God . . . David . . . oh, my God . . .” Her words fall from her lips, a delicate balance of curse and prayer, of satisfaction and need.

“I know, baby. Oh, God, do I know.” With each plunge, her body shakes more. Within seconds, she’s incapable of holding herself up. More than happy to help her out, I secure an arm around her waist, supporting her. The soft curves of her body fit perfectly into the muscled lines of mine. In a grip I’m sure will leave bruises on her hip, I hold her steady, diving into her from behind. She bounces on my lap, crying out my name on every hard thrust.

Running a hand down her stomach, I go further still, not stopping until it lands on her hardened clit. “Oh, fuck,” she growls. “It’s too much, baby. Too much. I can’t,” she begs, but I can’t tell what it’s for.

“What do you want?” I whisper into her ear. “Do you want me to stop?” My fingers stop their assault on her body. She whimpers in response, sounding as if she’s mourning the loss of my touch. “Want me to keep going then?”

“Just make me come. Please, I can’t take it anymore. You’re too much for me. It’s all too much.” Her admission, that she needs everything I can give her, sends me over some imaginary line of my control.

Picking up the pace, I drive into her from behind, loving the friction of her back to my chest. My finger circles her clit, bringing her right to that line with me. My legs start to buckle as the searing energy of my orgasm gathers at the base of my spine. “Fucking hell,” I ground out, spilling into her convulsing body.

In a breathless heap of tangled limbs, we fall to the bed. Sated and exhausted, Grace curls into my body, resting her head on my chest. Her fingers dance across my skin, tickling through my chest hair. “This is my favorite place to be.” With bright eyes, she looks up at me, smiling like a fool. “Right here next to you.”

“Naked, right?” I add, wrapping my arm tighter around her back.

The laughter in her face fades away. Smiling, her eyes wrinkle in the corners, making room for a single tear to fall. “Anyway possible. Naked, or clothed. Sleeping or awake. Laughing or fighting. Here.” Her fingers flex on my chest as she wiggles her body even closer to mine. “Next to you. In your arms. Breathing the same air as you. You’re where I always want to be, no matter what.” She presses her lips to my chest, right over my heart, as if she’s placing a seal on a sacred vow.

Falling asleep with her in my arms, her calm, even breaths rising and falling at my side, the feel of her kiss lingering on my skin, I know in my bones she had the same revelation I did earlier.

We are each other’s forever.

“What about this one?” Jade calls my attention to the case she’s looking at. The attendant lifts a tray from beneath the glass and Jade points to a ring all before I can get over to her side of the small shop.

“Let me see.” Trying to look over her shoulder, whatever ring is on her finger, she’s not showing me right away. When she turns around, hand extended in front of her, I have to blink hard to make sure I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing. “That’s, um, interesting.” Suddenly I’m regretting asking Jade to come along. Maybe I would have been better off on my own. “But do you think, maybe,” I try my best to put it delicately, but all I can come up with is, “That ring is hideous.” The yellow gold alone is enough for me to know that’s not Grace’s ring. I’ve never seen her wear yellow gold in the months we’ve been together and I’ve never seen a piece in her possession. In fact, she doesn’t wear much jewelry to begin with. “And a green stone?” I eye her suspiciously. “You’re not serious, are you?

Before she can say anything, Jade breaks out into a loud burst of laughter. “Fine, you caught me.” As she hands the ugly ring back to the clerk, she apologizes. “Call it a test. I wanted to make sure my girl ends up with a beautiful ring,” she declares. Hitching her hand to her hip, she adds, “So you pass round one.” In two long strides, she moves to another counter. Following behind her, I shake my head.

It turns out that round two, three, and four all involve her pointing out some of the ugliest pieces of jewelry I’ve ever seen. With each suggestion, they become less and less hideous, but they’re definitely meant as deterrents rather than legitimate ideas. “Maybe another day.” I stop her pointing with an annoyed voice.

Resting up against the counter, I apologize to the clerk once again. I had no idea bringing Jade along would be so much work. “You seem frustrated,” she assesses, standing next to me.

“You think?” Shooting her a look, I rake a hand through my hair. “This isn’t working. All I wanted to do was come here, find a ring for the woman I love and get home in time to greet her at the door.” The clerk looks on, seemingly less annoyed with us, but still not entirely on my side. “But all you’ve done is waste your entire lunch break making sure I don’t like the ugly pieces.”

“Hey now.” The clerk, an older woman who looks like she’s well into her sixties, clutches her pearls at my words. “That’s just about enough of that.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” I extend my hand for her to shake, but all she does is look at it in disgust. “Thank you for your time.”

Walking out of the store, I hear Jade strutting behind me. “I still have time,” she explains, trying to catch up.

Turning on my heel, I huff a laugh in her face. “No thanks. I don’t get it.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew her.” Her lame explanation does nothing but annoy me more.

“Know her? I’ve memorized every curve of her body. Counted the freckles on her face as she sleeps. I can tell within the first second of a phone call what kind of day she’s had. I know her favorite ice cream is chocolate peanut butter swirl, and how she digs out all the peanut butter before even making a dent in the rest of the carton. I know her favorite poem and her favorite book and how she gets all teary eyed at certain movies. I know her love for books almost trumps her love for teaching about them. I know everything about her and I love her more than I can even put to words right now. And all I wanted was the opinion of her best friend as I picked out her engagement ring. Because . . .” I pause to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. “No matter what ring I pick out, she’ll love it. Or at least she’ll say she loves it even if she hates it. Because above everything else that I love about Grace, I’m in awe of how she loves with everything she has. Her ability to sacrifice and put on a brave face simply to make others feel important.”

Standing before me, Jade opens and closes her mouth a few times, looking an awful lot like a fish gasping for air. Grabbing my arm, she says, “Tiffany’s is around the corner.”

With much more efficiency than she had in the old lady’s store, Jade scans the counters. On the hunt now, I guess my little speech helped her believe in me and my intentions a little more. “Platinum,” she explains as I walk up to her. “It’s the best.”

Keying into the changed tone in her voice, I smile. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”

The clerk, a woman much closer to our own age, lifts a tray of modern rings out from behind the glass. “Do you have any specific cut or size in mind?”

“No, the size doesn’t matter.” My words are met with a loud chuckle from Jade.

“Oh, honey, size always matters.”

“What I meant,” I begin to explain, shooting her a look. “Was that I have a healthy budget to work with.”

“Well, then.” My words put the clerk into motion and she begins pulling rings out from the blue velvet cushions. She explains the cut and clarity of a few rings, but honestly, she may as well be speaking in a foreign language.

Somewhat tuning her out, I look at a few of the rings. I pluck one from the display and hold it in the light. “Try this on.” I hand it to Jade and she covers her mouth with her hand.

“Oh, my god. This is–”

“Grace’s ring,” I finish her sentence for her as she looks down at the ring sparkling back at her. The round center isn’t obnoxiously large and it’s not small by any measure. But what makes it stand out among the rest are the curved lines surround the center stone. Interwoven together, they form a vine like setting. Something about the way the stone rests in the center, upheld by the delicate curves around it reminds me of Grace herself.

She’s centered by her convictions, by her sense of self, and her passion for life.

But on the outside, she’s an elaborate mixture of laughter, intelligence, and beauty.

When I walk out of the store, little blue bag in hand, I feel like I could conquer the world.

Only Jade’s words bring me crashing back down. “You ran this past her dad, right?”

“I will.”

“And you know how you’re going to ask her?”

“I don’t. Not yet anyway.”

“Do you have anything figured out?”

A calm feeling settles over me. “Everything that matters.”

Jade rambles on with more suggestions about getting her father’s permission, about the most perfect proposal ever. But all I can think about is the look on Grace’s face when she says yes.

After walking her back to her office, I enjoy some peace and quiet as I ride the train back to my apartment. I decide to call her father and ask him if I can take him and Meredith out for dinner on Friday night. He agrees, calling me son as he ends the call. I’m left with a fairly good feeling that they won’t say no. Covering my bases, I shoot Jade a text asking her to make plans with Grace for the night. I’m not one for lying, but in this case it obviously needs to happen.

And as far as how I’ll actually propose, the words I’ll actually say, and the place in which I’ll say them—it’s safe to say I have more than a few ideas rolling around in my head.

But none of it matters, really.

Because all of those details aside, only one fact is important: The fact that I’m lucky enough to spend the rest of my life with the woman who I spent my entire life trying to find.

 

 

“You’ve been acting strange the last week or so.” All too casually, I drop that out there, hoping he’ll take the bait. We’re curled up on the couch, watching some random sitcom.

“Have I?” He strokes his chin, pretending as if he’s actually considering my statement. “I don’t think so, but if you say so.” The
off
quality of his usual sly-as-a-fox look lets me know something is definitely up.

“Whatever,” I huff with about as much maturity as some of my students. We finish out the rest of the show in easy silence. My legs rest in his lap and his fingers dance over my skin. When he starts rubbing my feet, I can’t help but groan my appreciation. “That feels so good.”

“You just love me for my hands.”

“Yep,” I agree. He stops his movements as my laughter fills the air. Nudging his arm with my toe, I wait for him to get back to work. “Ahem,” I prod “You forgot the other foot.”

“You’re impossible.” After making me wait for another few seconds, he picks up my left foot, giving it the same attention he paid the right.

“It should be illegal to have to wear real shoes all day. My poor feet are so used to flip flops. This is like some kind of medieval torture.” Stretching my toes in his strong hands is pretty much second only to sex.

“I can only imagine,” he adds, his words heavy with sarcasm. “I know when I’m at work, lugging a hundred pounds of gear up flights of stairs, in a burning building, all I can think about is how much I want to slide my feet into a nice comfy pair of flip flops.”

“Always one-upping me. Not cool.” He shoots down the finger I point at him with a stuck-out tongue. Clearly maturity is not on the menu tonight, but laughter is always more important. “I love you. And this.”

“The foot rub?” His attention is on the television, where he’s just changed the channel to a baseball game.

“Yeah.” I wiggle my toes again, making sure to nudge his body in a very suggestive way. And now the attention is back to me. “But I mean all of this. You here all the time. Coming home and seeing you here. Just knowing you’re part of my life. I know it all sounds so cheesy, but I can honestly say I’ve never been so happy ever. And I have you to thank for it all.” Sliding up next to him, I tuck myself under his arm, letting his warmth seep into my body.

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