Falling Into You: The Complete Naughty Tales Series

by Nicole Elliot

  “I love you too,” I said.

  There was nothing romantic about it. Nothing spectacular or over-the-top. There was no fancy wine or lit candles or sparkling jewelry offered in response to it. Just two people who’d been alone for so many years who were no longer alone. Dean’s grasp clutched me to him the way I wanted to be clutched. I slid into his lap and wrapped my legs around him, threading my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his skin. Breathed in his scent as his hands stroked through my hair. I squeezed him as hard as I could while tears rose to my eyes.

  “I love you so much,” I said with a whisper. “Please stay with me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said as he kissed the side of my head. “I love you, Ivy. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Over the course of that week, we indulged ourselves. I cooked him another meal-- my mother’s eggplant parmesan recipe. But after burning my pie in the oven for dessert, we ended up driving to Delivery’s to get some dessert. On the days I felt stronger, we got out into the city. We went walking hand-in-hand in the park before sitting down for a picnic. One night we went cosmic bowling and played four games before I fell asleep on his shoulder. One night we even stayed in and tangled ourselves up in one another while watching a marathon of our favorite movies.

  I found that Dean was a fan of the Rocky franchise.

  But our last date night was different. Dean’s vacation week was coming to a close and I felt stronger than ever. And he surprised me with a dress and flats that were exactly my size. The black and yellow fabric hugged my body perfectly and fell just off my shoulders, and the sensible heels complimented the pearl jewelry he had bought me perfectly.

  However, when I emerged from my bedroom, my eyes fell onto the most handsome sight I’d ever seen.

  Dean, with his sculpted muscles and his tall form, was standing in my living room in a tailored black suit. His yellow shirt matched the yellow of my dress, and he had pearl cufflinks that matched the jewelry he’d purchased for me. His broad chest pulled slightly at the buttons on his clothes, but the way the fabric was tailored to his every sharp line had my jaw swinging against the floor.

  “You look incredible, Ivy.”

  But I was speechless as to how good he looked.

  He offered me his arm and I took it silently. I had no idea what in the world was in store for us, but I was excited. He escorted me down to his car and opened my door for me, then whisked me away to the other side of town.

  To one of the most exclusive restaurants the city had to offer.

  “Dean, what is all this for?” I asked.

  “What? I can’t treat the woman I love to a nice night out?” he asked.

  “It’s just… a lot. We’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Do you not like it?”

  “I…”

  I looked up at the restaurant before my eyes panned back to Dean. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think a man would treat me to something like this. Tears flooded my eyes as I threw myself at him, crashing our lips together as his hand cupped the back of my head. I slid into his lap, the shadows of the restaurant hiding us from the rest of the world. I slipped my arms around his neck and felt my lips swelling against his attack.

  I pulled back, panting for the air he breathed before I opened my eyes.

  “Come on,” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let’s go get us some great food.”

  “Do you come to places like this often?” I asked as we sat down at our table.

  “Never. These aren’t the kinds of places single men come to,” Dean said.

  “And I take it you’re not single anymore.”

  “It’s news to me if I still am.”

  “So what if I were to inform you that you technically still were single.”

  “Then I’d have to ask for those pearls back,” he said.

  I gasped as my hand fell upon my heart with fake disgust.

  “My word! How despicable, requesting back a gift as beautiful as these.”

  “Well, they were procured for the woman I love.”

  “But just because you love her doesn’t mean she’s yours. Have you asked her to be yours?”

  I watched Dean’s hand slide over mine as our glasses of water were sat down in front of us.

  “Ivy Breckenridge, will you do me the honor of wearing my letterman jacket?”

  “Really?” I asked flatly, rolling my eyes.

  “Will you wear my class ring? Will you go steady with me? Will you be my girlfriend? Will you check that box, Ivy? Because it took me all class period to draw that heart just right in the corner of the piece of paper.”

  I giggled and shook my head as I turned my palm up to his. I curled my fingers around his hand and guided it to my lips. I kissed each knuckle, just like he had mine in the hospital.

  Then my eyes fluttered up to his.

  “I’d love to,” I said.

  “Music to my ears.”

  “Does that mean I get to keep my pearls?”

  “It does,” he said with a chuckle. “You can wear that anytime you want.”

  “Anytime?” I asked.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ivy

  Two Weeks Later

  “Holy shit, Dean. Yes. Right there. Don’t stop.”

  His hands pressed my hips deeper into the wall as his tongue lapped across my clit.

  “Shit! Dean! Yes!”

  He moaned into my pussy and my juices dripped over his cheeks. My heels clattered upon my carpeted floor as my chest heaved with desire. I could feel my pearl necklace dancing around my sweating skin. I was weightless from my first orgasm. Collapsing into Dean’s strong hands while his tongue worked furiously to bring me to a second one. My thighs contracted. My calves flexed. My hands curled deeply into his hair and pulled him deeper between my folds. Electricity shot through my body. Pleasure blinded my vision. My body leaned desperately into the wall as my legs gave way, but his hands kept me suspended.

  Kept me pinned against the wall as my second orgasm crashed over my body.

  “Dean! Yes! Don’t stop!” I wailed as sweat dripped down my neck.

  He groaned into my pussy as my body collapsed against his. I plummeted into his arms and he scooped me up against his broad, strong chest. He flung us to the bed, our bodies bouncing as his lips encompassed mine. I could taste myself on him. I could see his skin glistening with my arousal. I plunged my tongue deep into his mouth, wanting to taste all of him as his body parted my legs. I loved it when he sat between my thighs. I loved feeling his thick hips seated against mine. His cock bulged. Throbbed. Grew to a thickness I’d never felt with any other man before.

  “I need to feel you,” Dean said.

  My eyes fluttered open and I cupped his cheek.

  “Then take me,” I said with a whisper. “And don’t hold back.”

  His eyes darkened as he reached between my legs. He guided his cock into my body and my breasts arched into him. His hand slid around the small of my back and tilted me closer to him. I felt him slide against my walls, filling me in ways no man ever had before. My nails raked up his chiseled biceps. I clung to the pads of his shoulders. My legs wrapped around his waist and our hips seated together, like two puzzle pieces searching for one another for years.

  “I love you, Ivy.”

  He peppered kisses along the crook of my neck as I sighed.

  “I love you too, Dean. So much.”

  He slid his cock out from between my legs before he slammed back in. I cried out into the room, feeling fire prickle up the back of my thighs. He did it again, jolting me with his strength as my bed scraped across my carpeted floor.

  “Again,” I said breathlessly. “Again, Dean.”

  He groaned into my neck as he delivered his assault. His slamming turned to pounding, and his pounding turned to rolling. His cock pulsed against my walls and my juices dripped down his balls. Coating him in my scent while he marked me with his teeth. I felt the welts
he drew upon my skin. I felt his hands sliding up and down my sides. His fingers tugged at my tits and my legs wrapped tighter around him, until he couldn't do anything to lie there against me.

  I clung to him, feeling him swivel his hips as his tightly-wound curls raked over my clit.

  He stood to his feet and pulled me to the edge of the bed. I giggled as I watched him take what he wanted. He threw my legs over his shoulders and gripped my hips, positioning me in a way I knew would take me to breathless heights. He set a relentless pace, robbing me of my voice. His soaked balls smacked against my ass as his dick plunged deeper into my body. My toes curled. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. My hands dug into the meat of his thighs while he filled me with his cock.

  “Dean. Oh yes. Don’t stop. I can’t… just don’t… I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cumming, Dean! Don’t stop, Dean! Yes!”

  My legs flexed and my hips came off the bed. My back arched so deeply I thought it was going to pop. My hands curled into the sheets of my bed. My fluids dripped down my ass crack. He continued his feverish thrusting. Filling me as my walls milked his cock. He grunted. Groaned. Panted and sighed. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as his curls graced my clit, sending me over the edge yet again.

  I couldn't breathe. Couldn't suck in.

  All I could do was lie there and bed for mercy.

  His body collapsed to mine, folding me in half. I captured his lips, sucking from him the air my lungs burned for. My pussy guzzled down his cum. Thick threads meant only for me as his hands found mine. Our fingers threaded together and we held each other close as my legs slowly slipped off his shoulders. His sweating form collapsed against me, his heart beating wildly against my skin.

  His nose nuzzled the shell of my ear before he kissed my cheek.

  And all the while, my pearls stayed intact around my neck.

  After what seemed like ages, he finally slid from between my thighs. He pulled me alongside him, his arm wrapping around me and pulling me close. I laid my cheek against his chest and traced the rings of his abs with my fingertips. I felt his fingers working through the knots in my hair. Such a soothing sensation. So soothing that I felt my eyes already closing.

  Then, I heard it.

  Dean’s rumbling voice as it filled my room.

  “And even though she enjoyed the apple-painted China set and I preferred the cheaper stuff from the dollar store, I realized I didn’t simply love her-”

  “I respected her,” I said.

  I felt Dean’s arm tighten around me as I opened my eyes. That was one of my favorite lines from the book he read to me while in the hospital. I tilted my gaze up to his and I found him looking down at me, his beautiful eyes wild with shock. I reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips, unlocking the silence that had stolen his voice. His hand cupped my head, supporting it as if it was the most important thing in the world. I felt a heat overcome his body. I opened my eyes and watched his skin flush. I pulled back from our kiss and looked deeply into his eyes, and was shocked to find them wet.

  Watery.

  Tearing up.

  “Oh Ivy,” he said with a whisper.

  I nuzzled into the palm of his hand before he quickly rolled me over.

  “Dean!” I exclaimed as a giggle fell from my lips.

  He kissed me. Repeatedly. Until goosebumps fled along my skin. His cock throbbed against my stomach and I felt a need rising within my gut. I wanted to feel him again. I wanted to experience him again.

  I never wanted to let him go.

  I parted my thighs for him and he easily slid into me, my wetness still apparent from our previous encounter. I cupped his cheeks and brought his lips back down to mine as he pressed deeper into my body. I shook against him. I allowed myself to let go. I opened my heart for the last time to fully draw him in, taking the risk that he would leave. Taking the risk that something would happen to us that would pull us apart.

  But if there was anything I learned from the book he read to me, it was that love was hard. That love demanded more than just love. That it demanded the best, the hardest, and the worst in order to make it work.

  And Dean was worth all of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dean

  Six Months Later

  I paced in Emilia’s flower shop, wringing my hands within the other. My heart had been beating wildly for days, and it felt like I was about to be thrown into a heart attack. Hayden had tried his best to talk me through how something like this went and Tristan volunteered to come down and try to calm me down face-to-face.

  “You’re going to be fine. You’ve got this,” he said.

  “Two dozen blush roses for the nervous wreck!” Emilia exclaimed.

  “Holy shit, they’re beautiful,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

  “I told you she was the best,” Tristan said.

  “You have to say that. You go home with me every night,” Emilia said.

  “But it’s the truth,” he said. “You run the best florist shop in the entire city.”

  “You really do,” I said. “How much do I owe you?”

  “A full recount over a very nice bottle of wine once all of this goes down,” Emilia said.

  “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of me paying you,” I said.

  “It’s not every day my best friend gets engaged,” she said with a smile. “I even attached the ring to the bouquet. A good bottle of wine and the two of you coming over for dinner very soon is what I expect as payment.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said as I took the roses from her. “I promise we’ll get something on the books soon.”

  “We better! That’s a gorgeous ring you bought. I want to see how it looks on Ivy’s finger!” she exclaimed.

  I waved to her and Tristan before I showed myself out of the florist shop.

  I signaled a cab to take me to The High Line. I had plans to meet Ivy there in an hour. It only seemed fitting, since it was the place we first met. It was in full bloom this time of the year and had a beautiful view of the city from its rooftop. I rode in the back of the cab and rehearsed my speech in my head, hoping it would be enough to convince her to say ‘yes’.

  To convince her that I loved her the way I said I did.

  It had been six months since I’d brought her home from the hospital, and in that time a lot had changed. I got moved from the midnight E.R. shift to the morning E.R. shift, so I was no longer working weird hours. Which meant that whenever Ivy traveled for her work, our schedules synced up a little better for us to talk while she was abroad. But no matter where we were or what we were doing, Sunday evenings were always for us. Whether we sat on the couch and stared at a wall or whether we went out and had lavish dinners, we always made sure Sunday evenings were scheduled specifically to be together.

  Even if we were called into work, we made it a point to keep in as much contact as we could throughout the course of that evening.

  “Sir?”

  The cab driver’s voice ripped me from my thoughts.

  “Sorry. Must’ve zoned out.”

  “I’m sure she’ll say ‘yes’,” he said with a smile.

  “What?” I asked.

  “The ring around the roses. I can see it.”

  “You think she’ll like it?” I asked.

  “My wife would.”

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Twelve years, and I wouldn’t trade any of it. It’s hard work. Constant work. But worth it.”

  “Any advice for a man about to propose?”

  The cab driver turned around to face me and locked his eyes with mine.

  “Be honest,” he said. “That’s all you ever can do in any relationship. Be honest with her about where you stand and what you expect, so when she says ‘yes’ she knows exactly what she’s getting into.”

  I paid the cab driver and tipped him well for his advice before I made my way inside.

  I walked slowly through the narrow building, my mind conjuring t
he first time I’d ever seen her. She was standing off in a corner beside that staircase in a seductive pair of shorts and heels that flexed her legs perfectly. But even from the beginning, it was her hair that caught my eye. I was drawn to her the instant I’d seen her, and even now I was drawn to her ghost.

  I found myself standing by the staircase, staring into a phantom memory of her.

  I closed my eyes and shook away the memory. This encounter wasn’t about memories. It was about a future that had yet to be carved out. I drew in a deep breath and made my way up the steps, clutching the roses as tightly as I could. The ring bounced against my skin, taunting me in my venture as I made my way to the garden where her fashion show had taken place. I walked to the edge of the building and looked out over the city, taking in the view as I stood there.

  I slid my free hand into my pocket as the wind brushed against my face.

  Six months had changed a lot about our lives. Ivy was back to traveling and her memory had finally healed. No more forgetful moments other than what everyone else experiences on a regular basis. I rarely spent time at my apartment any longer. There were days where I’d get off shifts and go straight to her place. My toothbrush was there. Some of my scrubs were there. I even had a pair of shoes and a suit there, just in case.

  Ivy constantly teased me on paying rent for a place I hardly stayed at, and that was the statement that got my mind turning.

  The statement that had brought me to this very moment.

  “Dean?”

  I whipped around at the sound of her voice. Ivy looked spectacular. She was in a leopard-printed summer dress that whipped around her ankles and fell down the long lines of her body. Her blonde and green hair was pulled back into a low-lying bun and her lips were a crimson red I wanted her to mark my body in. Her eyes widened at the roses and I handed them to her, watching as she took in their scent.

  “Oh, these could only have come from one person,” she said.