by Nikki Ash
“Ethan,” she breathes, taking another step forward, off the sidewalk and onto the bicycle lane of the road. It’s raining heavily, and without an umbrella she’s getting soaked. But it doesn’t seem to bother her. Turning to face me, her head tilts toward the open sky, her eyes close, and the most beautiful smile appears.
And that’s when it hits me: her list. To dance in the rain. To be kissed in the rain.
In the short distance, a street performer is playing the saxophone. I reach out and take Nevaeh’s hand, and she turns her attention to me. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I bring her close to me. She glances up, confused at first, but when I start to sway us to the music, her face lights up in realization.
With the music in the background and the rain coming down on us, we dance in the street, with Nevaeh in my arms and her head against my chest. Life on Earth could be ending, the entire world imploding, but in this moment, with my wife in my arms, it feels as if it’s only the two of us.
When the song comes to an end, I pull back slightly. “Thank you for the dance,” I tell her, pushing her drenched hair off her face, before I frame her cheeks with my palms and cover her mouth with mine. With our tongues swirling around each other, we kiss until Nevaeh shivers against me.
“Let’s get out of here, baby,” I murmur against her lips. “Go back to the hotel and get warmed up.”
Once we’re back to our room and showered, I notice she’s not as animated as she was earlier. A few times, she squints her eyes, telling me she’s fighting a headache. She doesn’t want me to know, though—doesn’t want to sour the day—so I let it go.
While we eat our dinner, she pulls out her list from her luggage and smiles softly as she crosses out all the items we’ve done. “I only have a few left.”
“Like what?”
She looks over her list. “Go skydiving, visit another country for fun, tell my mom how I really feel, make a difference in someone’s life, go in a hot air balloon, go skinny-dipping…”
“That’s it?” I ask when her voice trails off, knowing there’s at least one more.
“Um…” She glances at me with a slight frown marring her features. “Become a mom.” She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal.
“You will become a mom,” I tell her. “In some way, shape, or form, you will.”
She nods, but it’s more to appease me.
“I’m tired,” she says in a resigned tone. Then, she folds up her list and places it on the nightstand. She moves everything off the bed and snuggles into my side, and within minutes her eyes close and her breathing evens out. Since I’m used to staying awake a lot later, but I don’t want to move from her side, I grab my phone and Google Meningioma tumor, where I spend the next several hours learning everything I can about the tumor that is trying to fuck with my wife.
I wake up to Nevaeh trailing open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder and chest. The woman loves to explore my body while I’m asleep and I’m not going to complain. Waking up to her lips on me is without a doubt the best way to wake up. As a matter of fact, if I have it my way, I plan to wake up like this every day for the rest of my life—which is why I reached out to a couple doctors last night. When you’re in the business my dad is in, you get to know a variety of people. You would be shocked at how many doctors and lawyers and men in power dabble in illegal extracurriculars. Using my connections, I’ve put out feelers to get an appointment with the best neurologist money can buy. I know Nevaeh already has a doctor, but I’m going to make sure whoever sees her is the best out there. I’m not taking any chances.
“You look distracted,” Nevaeh says with a frown.
When I glance down, I notice her hand is wrapped around my cock and she’s stroking it up and down.
“Sorry.” I shake the fog from my head and give her a smile.
“You don’t… regret yesterday, do you?” she asks softly, nibbling on her top lip nervously.
“What?” Sitting up, I grab her by the curves of her hips and flip her onto her back. “Don’t ever say shit like that again,” I growl. “I love you and I could never regret marrying you.” I nip at her jaw before fusing our mouths together. My tongue darts out, and I explore her mouth. She must’ve been awake for a little while because her breath is minty fresh.
When her thighs press together against my hips, I laugh, knowing what she wants. My little angel is quickly becoming addicted to sex. “Are you sore?” I ask, licking across her fleshy top lip.
“No,” she moans, squeezing her thighs together again. I don’t believe her, but I’m also not going to argue. Nevaeh has quickly learned I can’t tell her no. What she wants, she gets, and now that I know about her… fuck, she could ask me for anything and I’d make sure she gets it.
Lifting slightly, I pull her pajama shirt over her head, exposing her perky tits. I wrap my lips and teeth around one of her nipples and bite down playfully. Nevaeh squeals in shock, but when I lick the pain away, she moans in pleasure.
“I want you,” she breathes, always so eager.
Refusing to rush, I switch to her other nipple and bite down on it.
“Ethan!” she shrieks through a laugh.
“I’m hungry,” I joke.
“Then eat me down there,” she says, tugging on my hair. When I glance up, her cheeks are tinted pink and her eyes are widened in shock that she actually said that. I throw my head back in a laugh at how adorable she is. Her mom never should’ve tried to clip her daughter’s wings. She was meant to spread ’em wide and fly high, and nothing and no one will ever keep her down—not if I can help it.
“You don’t have to tell me twice, Angel.” I scoot down her body and get started on quenching my hunger. I eat her pussy until she’s trembling and begging me to fuck her. Then, with a smack to her plump ass, I tell her to turn over.
Her eyes dilate a bit at my words, and I note that my woman loves to be told what to do. Once she’s on her hands and knees, she glances back at me through the curtain of her hair. Her lashes flutter, and she bites on her bottom lip, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
Gripping my shaft in my palm, I stroke it a couple times, causing Nevaeh to moan softly.
Closing the small distance between us, I lean over her, and curling her thick mane around my fist, angle her face back to kiss her. Her lips are soft and her tongue moves in perfect sync with mine. Fuck, I could be with this woman every second of every day for the rest of my life and never get enough.
“Ethan,” she whines. “Please… I need you in me.”
Reluctantly, I release her mouth and hair. I nudge her legs apart and push her back down slightly, exposing her glistening arousal. She drops her head to the pillow and glances back at me through her lashes. I have half a mind to grab my phone and take a picture of her like this, but then she whines once more, and I push the thought to the side—another time.
With my dick in my fist, I guide myself into her slick, hot cunt. I stop once I’m buried deep in her, giving her a minute to adjust to my size.
“You okay, baby?” I ask, wanting to make sure she’s not too sore or in pain.
Instead of answering, the fucking minx wiggles her ass. “Ethan, fuck me, please.” I smirk at her use of the F-word. She’s used it a few times now and it’s sexy as hell coming from her angelic lips. And the fact that every time she says it, she adds a please to it makes it that much sexier.
I pull back slightly, and then thrust my hips forward, sinking inside her. Her head falls back to the pillow and her back arches. “Oh, God, yes,” she moans in pleasure.
I repeat the motion, and this time, her tight walls constrict around my dick. “Right there,” she breathes. “It feels so good.”
With my fingers gripping the curve of her hip, I drive into her again and again. With every moan and cry from her lips, I lose a little more control, until I’m thrusting into her with a punishing rhythm—savagely, almost violently. I can’t get deep enough, I can’t fuck her hard enough. I have no clue where the hell she
ends and I begin anymore.
“I’m so close,” she cries in frustration.
“Massage your clit, baby.”
She reaches under her, doing as I say. Her moans get louder, hoarser, and when a gasp escapes her lips and her pussy clamps down on my dick like a goddamn vice, I know she’s fallen over the edge, taking me with her.
After we’re both cleaned up, we lie in bed. Nevaeh wraps her arms around me and her legs weave in between mine. It’s as if she’s an extension of myself.
“I never imagined it could be like this,” she admits softly, kissing the skin where my fresh tattoo is inked. “Gerald would beg and I didn’t see the appeal. I didn’t mind waiting because I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
“It’s us, baby,” I tell her truthfully. I loved Kelsi, but it wasn’t like this with us. It was young love. We were fumbling through our emotions, still finding ourselves. We weren’t connected in the way Nevaeh and I are. She isn’t just my wife, she’s my other half. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to lose her.
Nevaeh
After spending the next couple days in Vegas, Ethan insists, despite my protests, it’s time to return home. He uses the excuse that he needs to get back to work, but I think he’s really anxious to meet with my doctor to discuss my prognosis and surgery. Every time I show a sign of a headache or feel dizzy, he flinches in concern. I thought he would ask me about it, but he’s held back, not allowing our honeymoon of sorts to be ruined or tainted.
After our five-hour flight back to New Jersey, Ethan grabs our bags and we head out of the airport. Since Rosco dropped us off, I’m not surprised to see him waiting for us.
“Boss.” Rosco nods, taking the luggage from Ethan and throwing it in the back of his black SUV. “Mrs. Romero.” He opens the door for me and I slide in the back seat, with Ethan following after.
“He called me Mrs. Romero,” I whisper to Ethan, giggling softly. I don’t think I’ll ever tire being called Nevaeh Romero.
“That’s because you’re mine,” Ethan growls, pulling me into his side. “Now buckle up. I need to make a couple calls. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starved.” We were offered meals on the flight, but I wasn’t feeling too well, so I skipped it. The way my stomach is aching, I’m regretting it now, especially since we have a two-hour drive home.
“What would you like?”
“Just a drive-thru is fine.”
“You’re not eating that shit,” Ethan says, taking on a serious tone. “Rosco, find us a Thai restaurant on the way,” he says, knowing it’s one of my favorite things to eat, after Chinese.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ve eaten fast-food plenty of times,” I point out, confused. When Ethan glances at me, not meeting my eyes, but instead above, it clicks. “Eating a cheeseburger and fries isn’t going to affect my tumor.”
“You need to eat healthy so you can be strong,” he argues, and my heart swells over him worrying about me. Up until telling Ethan about my tumor, I’ve kept it a complete secret from everyone, so it’s weird someone knowing and caring, but it’s not unwelcome. I love how much he cares about me. He wants to protect me and keep me safe, but this tumor is out of his control, so he’s trying to control what he can, like my eating habits. I decide to let him have it.
“Thai sounds good.”
Ethan’s shoulders slump and he grants me a small smile, obviously happy I didn’t argue with him.
After stopping at a small hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant, which served the best shrimp and chicken Pad Thai I’ve ever eaten, we’re back on the road again. Feeling jetlagged, I lay my head on Ethan’s shoulder and let the swaying of the vehicle lull me to sleep.
“Wake up, Angel,” I hear. Wrenching my eyes open, I take in my surroundings. We’re in a neighborhood, but not the right one.
“Where are we?” I ask, stretching my limbs.
“We’re home,” Ethan says, opening the door and getting out.
“Home?” I slide out of the SUV and get out.
“My place,” he clarifies. “While we were away, Rosco had all our stuff moved here. Now that Logan and Felix are in jail, and the sex trafficking ring has been brought down by the FBI, you’re safe, so we can live in my home, without my parents.”
“I liked living with your parents.” I shrug. His mom is so sweet. We would cook together several nights a week, and she loves romance books like I do. His dad was quiet but still very nice.
“Well, I’m going to like getting to fuck you all over every inch of our house,” Ethan murmurs into my ear. “And since my parents won’t be there, I’m also going to like making you scream and moan without having to cover your mouth.” He grins salaciously.
Ethan and I learned I’m sometimes loud in bed, and even though our hotel room was rather big, it was still next to another room. Every time I would get loud, Ethan would cover my mouth, worried the neighbors would hear. He said he didn’t care if they complained, but that he didn’t want anyone else to hear me turned on—it’s only meant for his ears.
“I can smell the ocean,” I say, taking his hand and walking with him up the stairs to his three-story house.
“It’s behind the house,” he explains. “It’s a townhouse, so we have neighbors who are attached, but everyone has their own driveway, garage, and backyard.”
After he thanks Rosco and tells him he’ll see him tomorrow night at the club, we go inside. His home is beyond gorgeous and definitely more Ethan. Whereas the beach house was light with creams and blues, Ethan’s home is darker—red wine, dark wood, and black.
He gives me the grand tour, and even though he calls it a townhouse, the place is massive. Growing up, we lived in a townhouse and it wasn’t a fourth the size of this place. On the first floor is the living room, dining room, kitchen, and office as well as the laundry room and a bathroom.
On the second floor is the master bedroom and bathroom and a huge sitting area. Everything of mine has been put away neatly, and I push away the fact that Rosco might’ve seen and touched my undergarments. Not that he’s done anything inappropriate, it’s just weird to know someone else touched my stuff.
The third floor has two more rooms with en-suite bathrooms. Everything looks to be professionally decorated but still fits Ethan’s personality. When he shows me that every room has its own balcony overlooking the water, I feel like I’ve died and gone to beach-heaven.
“Why don’t we shower and then get ready for bed,” Ethan says, taking me in his arms and kissing me. “You have an appointment with Dr. Bromfield tomorrow morning at nine a.m.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Bromfield. He’s one of the top neurologists in the country and he has an office at Atlantic City Regional.”
“I already have a doctor.”
“And he’s good, but Dr. Bromfield is better and you’re going to be seen by the best. Nothing wrong with getting a second opinion, and if you have to have surgery, it should be done by the best doctor available.” Ethan pecks my lips.
I should probably be upset he’s taking over my care, but I’m not. For so long I’ve been worrying all by myself. I know it’s my fault for not sharing it with my family and Blaire, but it doesn’t change how I’ve felt—alone. It feels good to have someone in my corner, fighting alongside me. The fact he managed to research, find a doctor, and get me an appointment on such short notice shows me how much he cares.
“I love you,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
His eyes lock with mine for a long beat before he nods once. “We’re going to get you through this, Angel. Whatever it takes. I promise.”
Moving out of his arms, I step up to the window that overlooks the water. The sun is setting and it’s starting to get darker, making the water look more black than blue. “Do you think the water is warm enough to swim in?”
Ethan comes up behind me and holds me tight, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“Maybe. Why? You want to go
to the beach tomorrow after your appointment?” He pushes my hair to the side and kisses the spot just below my ear, eliciting a chill up my spine.
“Actually… I was thinking we could go swimming tonight.” Ethan stiffens behind me, but before he can argue, I add, “My head feels fine.”
“Nevaeh…”
“Please.” I turn slightly and bat my lashes playfully. When Ethan sighs, I know I’ve won. “Yay!”
Without waiting for him, I unlock and open the door and run off the back porch, through his small backyard and down the wooden path that leads straight to the beach. When I get close to the water, I look around, making sure no one is around, and when I’m sure we’re alone, I strip out of my clothes.
“Nevaeh!” Ethan barks, stalking after me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Going skinny-dipping!” I unclasp my bra, which was the last piece of item on me, and shuck it to the side. “You coming?”
I’m about to sprint toward the water when Ethan grabs me by my waist and swings me around in a circle before putting me down. “Wait for me,” he growls into my ear.
After stripping out of his clothes, Ethan bends at the waist and nods his chin behind him. “Get on.”
Doing as he says, I hop onto his back and snake my arms around his neck to hold on. His arms link behind my knees and he carries me toward the ocean. When his feet hit the water, a boisterous laugh erupts from his chest. “You sure about this, baby? It’s more cold than warm.”
“We’re already here!” I giggle. “Let’s go!” I reach around behind me and slap his butt. “Giddy up!”
With a chuckle, he enters the water. My toes are first to feel the water and holy moly is it cold. A shiver racks my body, but I don’t tell him to stop. The cold is actually welcoming, waking me up and reminding me I’m still alive.
