Hard Ever After

by Laura Kaye

  “What are you thinking about so hard?” Nick asked, his breath caressing her bare shoulder.

  “Really want to know?” she asked, already smiling at what his reaction might be.

  “Always,” he said, wiping at her skin. He dipped the machine in the ink and leaned in again.

  “How turned on this is making me.” She really wanted to turn to see his expression but knew she wasn’t supposed to move.

  He pulled the machine away again. “Jesus, Becca. You’re killing me here.”

  She grinned. “I asked if you really wanted to know.”

  Nick chuffed out a laugh. “Yeah, well, I’ve never had a fucking hard-­on the entire time I’ve done a tattoo before, so you’re not the only one.”

  Becca unleashed a small moan. “Now you’ve got me thinking about your cock, Nick.” She couldn’t help the hint of a whine in her voice.

  “You’ll never convince me that that’s a bad thing, Sunshine.”

  “God, I really want to touch you right now,” she said, heat spreading over her body.

  “Be still,” he said, his tone full of a stern command that made her smile.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Fucking yes, sir,” he grumbled under his breath.

  Another long stretch passed without them talking, but knowing that what they were doing was arousing Nick as much as it was her made her wet and needy and absolutely ready to jump him the minute she could.

  Nearly ninety minutes had passed by the time Nick said, “There. It’s done.” He wiped at her skin and handed her a mirror. “Take a look.”

  Anticipation made her belly feel like she was looking over the edge of a tall cliff. She crossed to the mirror and turned her back to it, then lifted the hand mirror to see her first tattoo.

  “Oh, Nick,” she said, her gaze drinking it in. The way the stacked letters intertwined with one another was so beautifully done. “It’s . . . gorgeous.” Her heart squeezed in her chest. “You are so freaking talented.” She looked from the mirror to where he still sat, his gaze glued to her face.

  “I think it looks phenomenal on you. You really like it?” he asked.

  She looked at her ink again. The stark crispness of the black lettering was so striking against her skin. She adored everything about it—­the design, the words, their meaning. “I don’t just like it. I love it, Nick. It’s perfect. Everything I wanted.” Her gaze cut back to him. “Just like you.”

  “Come here,” he said, his voice a little rough. When she stood right in front of him, he pressed a kiss between her breasts. “It was an honor, you letting me do that.”

  She dragged her hands through his dark brown hair. “Sweet, sweet man,” she said, leaning down to kiss him. It started off soft, full of gratitude and love, but quickly flashed hot until they were devouring one another, claiming, wanting, moaning.

  “Fuck, Becca,” he said, pulling back. “Let me take care of your tattoo.”

  Wiping the wetness from her lips, she smiled and nodded. “Okay.” She sat back in the chair, and Nick cleaned the skin over her tattoo and taped a bandage to it.

  “All done,” he said. “Now, there’s just one more thing I need to do.”

  Chapter Four

  HOLY HELL, HAD Nick ever been this nervous in his life? He’d faced down warlords, captured terrorists, survived IED explosions, and been shot on multiple occasions. Yet he’d never felt the kind of queasy, can’t-­quite-­manage-­a-­deep-­breath nerves he felt just then.

  He retrieved the little black box from the drawer where he’d hidden it, fisted it in his palm, and came to stand in front of Becca. He gave her a hand to stand up, then slowly sank to one knee.

  “What are you—­” Becca gasped. “Nick?”

  “Becca.” Looking up at her beautiful face, he grasped her left hand. “When you walked through my door, you changed my whole life. You gave me purpose when I had none. You brought my family back together when I was so alone. You believed in me when no one else did, including myself. You fought for me and loved me and made me a better man.” Glassy, bright blue eyes stared down at him with so much love. “You shined light on places inside me I thought would never emerge from the dark, and you helped me reclaim my integrity, my honor, and my life.” A knot lodged in Nick’s throat. “You saved me from becoming someone I didn’t recognize, and because of you I have a life worth living. But only if you’ll walk it with me.”

  “Nick,” she rasped, her voice thick with unshed tears.

  He flipped open the box and pulled out the diamond and platinum round-­cut ring. A halo of smaller stones surrounded the center stone, creating what to him looked like a sun. More accent stones lined the band, giving it a classic, vintage look. He’d known it was the right ring as soon as he’d seen it. Slowly, he slid the diamond onto Becca’s ring finger. “I love you with everything that I am, and everything I want to be. Please do me the greatest honor of my life and say you’ll be my wife, my partner, my best friend, my companion. Becca Merritt, will you marry me?”

  For a split second that felt like eternity, she looked down at her shaking hand. And then she sank to her knees in front of him and grasped his face. “Yes,” she said, kissing him. “Only you. Always you. Forever you, Nick. Yes.”

  “Aw, Sunshine,” he said, sliding his hands into her hair. “You make me happier than I ever thought I could be.”

  “I feel the exact same way,” she said, tears finally leaking from the corners of her eyes. “I love you so much.”

  He kissed her on a groan, his spirit more buoyant and triumphant than it had ever been. Even more than when their records had been cleared and their honor had been restored. That had been exactly what he’d deserved, but this . . . this was more than he ever knew to want.

  Becca’s hands fisted in his shirt as she sucked hard on his tongue, a needy, desperate moan spilling from her throat. The sound shot right to his cock, making him rock hard in an instant and bringing back every bit of the aching lust he’d felt while he’d been doing her tattoo. Christ, if he thought it was arousing to mark her with his ink, it was nothing compared to what it did to him to know she’d just agreed to be his forever. He was fucking flying.

  Nick tore open the button to her jeans. “Need in you.”

  “Yes,” she said, tugging up his shirt. He helped her pull it over his head. For a moment, they were a whirl of shedding clothes and grasping hands and claiming kisses until they were both naked and panting and hot.

  He sat in the chair where she’d been sitting and guided her down to his lap, her back to his front. “Take me inside of you, Becca. Ride me so fucking hard.”

  She took his cock in hand and sank down on him in one slow, slick stroke. “Oh, God,” she rasped when he bottomed out inside her. “Needed you so much. All day.”

  He grasped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. “I’m here. Right here.”

  Hands braced on his thighs, Becca lifted herself up and down on his cock, riding him until they were both moaning, desperate, shaking. Her nails bit deliciously into his quads, making him do a double take at the big diamond on her left hand. And fuck if that didn’t escalate the urgent ache in his balls—­to pour himself deep, deep inside her, and never let go.

  She threw her head back, sending her long blond waves cascading down his chest. He fisted a thick column of her hair in his hand, forcing her back further against him until she was reclined against his chest and impaled on his cock. “Want you to come all over me,” he said, reaching around to stroke her. She arched on contact, but Nick held her fast against him as his fingers pressed firm, quick circles against her clit.

  The diamond caught the light as she grasped and kneaded her breasts, her movements growing desperate as she thrust forward against his fingers and back against his cock. On a guttural moan, she held her breath and her core fisted around his length until her mus
cles were pulsing, sucking, squeezing the sanity from him. A high-­pitched moan wrenched out of her as she went slack on his lap, and the languid satisfaction of her body made him feel ten feet tall.

  “Holy shit,” she rasped.

  He smacked her ass. “Kneel on the chair and bend over.”

  “Ooh. Yes, sir,” she said as he helped her stand. He grinned as she got into position and looked back over her shoulder.

  Gut instinct had him pulling off the bandage covering her tattoo. “I wanna see this ink while I fuck you.” He penetrated her inch by maddening inch, his gaze glued to the words she would wear forever. For him.

  Gripping the back of the chair, she peered at the design from the corner of her eye. “You’re so good, Nick. All of you. I’m so lucky you’re mine.”

  Her voice lit up places within him that once were so dark. Buried all the way inside her, he leaned over her back and braced his hand on the chair next to hers. Then his hips started to move in small, deep, punctuated thrusts that had her moaning with each stroke and his body screaming for release. As deep as it was, it wasn’t deep enough. It would never be deep enough. “Fuck, Becca. Just want you so goddamned much.”

  “You have me, Nick. Oh, God,” she rasped as he banded an arm around her ribs and moved faster. The chair screeched against the floor and their skin slapped against the percussive beat of a grinding rock song.

  He clutched her left hand on the backrest of the chair, and the diamond bit into his palm. It was the nail in the coffin of his remaining reserve. On a shout, he buried himself balls deep and came until he couldn’t help but rest his weight against Becca’s back. When his body finally stilled, he wrapped both arms around her and pressed a soft, openmouthed kiss next to her tattoo. “I love you, Becca. And I always will.”

  NICK COULD BARELY keep the smile off his face as he opened the apartment door. Him, unable to hold back a smile. If that wasn’t life doing a one-­eighty, he didn’t know what was.

  “After you,” he said to Becca. As she stepped inside the loft, he flicked on the lights to the main room.

  “Surprise!” rang out in a great chorus of voices, along with a few barks. All their friends were there waiting for them—­Jeremy and Charlie, Nick’s sister, Kat, and all of Nick’s teammates and their girlfriends. Baltimore police detective Kyler Vance, who’d been such an ally during their investigation, was there, too. And Nick had even managed to convince Walter and Louis Jackson to come. Walter had been Charlie’s landlord and had taken a special interest in helping Becca, even calling in the assistance of his son, Louis, who’d turned out to be an amazing resource for the team as the coordinator of the city’s task force on gangs.

  “Oh, my God,” Becca said with a huge smile on her face. She turned and threw her arms around Nick. “You planned all this?”

  Now he could grin. “I did good, huh?”

  She laughed and hugged him tighter. “You did amazing.”

  When they broke apart, he and Becca were surrounded by their friends and family, although the distinction didn’t mean much in this room. These ­people were all their family of choice. Everyone offered words of congratulations as Becca showed off her ring and recounted his proposal.

  “Congrats, man. I couldn’t be happier for you,” Jeremy said, wearing the most unreserved smile Nick had seen on his brother in weeks. Not that Nick could blame him—­between recovering from brain surgery, managing the construction on the other half of the Hard Ink building, and grappling with the death of two friends in the attack, the guy had a lot on his plate.

  “Thanks, Jeremy. That means a lot,” Nick said. He shook his brother’s hand and tugged him in for a quick hug. “I’m happy for you, too. You and Charlie.”

  Becca arched a brow at Charlie. “So, going to a movie, huh?” Charlie’s smile was a little sheepish, where Jer’s was a total shit-­eating number that said he was pleased with himself for pulling one over on her. “So you were in on all this?” she asked them.

  Charlie nodded. “It’s nice to have something else to celebrate.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Nick said as he watched Becca hug the blond-­haired man who’d helped make tonight possible when he’d given Nick his blessing to propose to his sister.

  Someone touched Nick’s arm, and he turned to find Kat standing beside him. Short, with long brown hair, she matched Nick for stubbornness and guts, something she’d proven more than once during the recent investigation. “She’s really good for you, Nick. You deserve this. And I’m really proud of you,” Kat said. Given the way the two of them butted heads sometimes, the words meant a lot. They hugged, and Nick was reminded yet again just how much he had in his life now. Because of Becca.

  “Thanks, Kat. Although all this happiness is really fucking weird,” he said.

  Rolling her bright green eyes, she shook her head. “Too damn bad. You’ll just have to get used to it.” She linked arms with Becca. “So when do we get to go dress shopping?”

  “I’d love to help, too,” Sara Dean said, brushing her red hair back from her face.

  “I hadn’t even thought about it yet,” Becca said, looking between Kat and Sara. Of all the women here, Becca and Sara had known each other the longest. Nick knew that Becca held a special affection for Sara, who’d helped him and the team rescue Charlie from the basement of the strip club where Sara had been forced to work. “I’m off on Thursday and Friday, so maybe then? Jenna and Emilie can come, too. We’ll do a whole girls’ day.”

  “After everything that’s happened, isn’t it weird to think we can just go shopping?” Sara said. Words of agreement rose up all around, and Nick was glad that Becca had a close group of friends to share all this with.

  Shane McCallan came up behind Sara and kissed her on the cheek. “Champagne?” He held out a tray of plastic flutes. Sara looked up at Shane with so much affection on her face, and Nick wondered if he and Becca were that blatant with their feelings. Hell, he guessed they probably were. But everyone in this room deserved a big old slice of happiness, so Nick couldn’t begrudge a single one of them.

  “You make a good waiter,” Nick said to his best friend as he took a glass for Becca and himself. “In case this security business doesn’t work out, and all.”

  “Don’t make me tell you to fuck off at your engagement party,” Shane said, a hint of his Southern accent coming through.

  Nick laughed and shook the guy’s free hand. “Thanks again for coming with me today.”

  “Wouldn’t have been anywhere else,” Shane said. And Nick knew that was true, despite the initial disbelief and subsequent ribbing Shane had dished out when Nick had told him what he planned to do.

  When everyone had a glass of bubbly in their hands, Shane called out, “Hey everyone, gather ’round. I’d like to make a toast.”

  Standing in a big circle between the loft’s open living room and kitchen, everyone quieted. Becca slipped her arm around Nick’s back and leaned in tight against his side.

  Shane held up his glass. “Nick Rixey is my best friend, my teammate, and my brother, and I know he’d lay down his life for me as quickly as I’d do the same for him.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” Nick said, giving Shane a nod. Their other teammates—­Beckett Murda, Derek “Marz” DiMarzio, and Edward “Easy” Cantrell—­sent up words of support, too.

  “So I couldn’t be happier,” Shane continued, “to see him getting everything he deserves. Well, maybe even more than he deserves, given how amazing Becca Merritt is.”

  Against a round of laughter, Nick grinned and nodded, while Becca protested and hugged him.

  Shane winked at her. “Becca, you went above and beyond in helping us clear our names, and I will forever be proud to call you my sister.” Before things had a chance to turn serious, he added, “So if you ever need any help with this stubborn pain-­in-­the-­ass man with whom you’ve chosen to spend your
life, you just let any of us know.” He gestured to the other guys in the room.

  “Count me in for that, too,” Jeremy said with a big smile. Everyone laughed, and damn, it felt good seeing their friends at such ease.

  “So let’s raise a glass to the ­couple who brought us all together. May love, peace, and happiness be your constant companions. To Nick and Becca.” Shane raised his glass higher.

  “To Nick and Becca,” everyone called.

  Grinning up at Nick, Becca clicked her plastic flute against his. “I love you,” she said.

  “Right back atcha, Sunshine,” he said, his heart feeling two sizes too big for his chest. They drank.

  “Is it time to eat the cake yet?” Marz said to more laughter as he leaned against the breakfast bar. Which was when Nick noticed a big cake with a figurine standing atop it next to Marz’s elbow.

  “Leave it to Marz to demand food,” Beckett said with a smirk. Seeing Beckett relaxed and cutting it up was another big change, because for almost as long as they’d known one another, Beckett had been reserved and quiet, not one to shoot the shit or joke around. Before all this, only Marz had seemed to get behind the big guy’s walls. Nick now knew that Kat had had a lot to do with how the man had changed, as much as their relationship had thrown Nick at first.

  “Well, he did help me make it,” Emilie said, planting a kiss on Marz’s cheek. “It was all I could do to keep him from eating all the icing.”

  “Aw, you made this?” Becca said, stepping up to the counter. The square cake was two layers tall and read, To Nick and Becca, The Best Is Yet To Come! Next to the words stood a porcelain figurine of a man in fatigues embracing a blond-­haired woman in a wedding dress.