Watched

by Batto, Olivia

  A huge diamond ring, surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds, twinkled in the soft light. She looked at him in surprise, her hands moving to cover her mouth. He looked bashful for the first time.

  “I wanted to do this sometime more romantic.” He explained, pulling the ring from the box and slipping it on her finger. “But if tonight has taught me anything, it’s you can never be sure what the future holds.”

  He rocked his hips again, sending sparks of need shooting under her skin. She clamped emptily with the need for him, and she gasped. “It’s a little early to be getting engaged, isn’t it?” It didn’t feel early. The time they had spent as a couple was short, but their their closeness had begun long before. She trusted him. She loved him. Did they need anything else? “Maybe if we have a long engagement.”

  He smiled, sliding over her again and pressing himself against her. She moaned, wrapping her legs around him and trying to pull him inside, but he stopped. “I’ve wanted you to be mine for months.” He said, reaching down to stroke her with his fingers. She cried out as another rush of moisture soaked him. “A wedding tomorrow or in ten years, it doesn’t matter. Tell me you’ll marry me.” He pressed against her insistently, waiting.

  “Yes, oh Hunter please, yes, I’ll marry you.” Alexandra’s promise ended on a long moan as he thrust himself inside. She shuddered as the solid heat of him filled her, little pinpricks of passion spreading through her body.

  He groaned as he pulled himself out and thrust in again. “You’re so amazing. So silky and soft.” He took her in a long, passionate lovemaking which drew every bit of pleasure from her body before they came together, the hot spill of his seed matching the pulses of her own orgasm.

  As they lay together, trembling with the aftermath of their lovemaking, the ring caught her eye. She frowned. Where had she seen this before?

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, worried. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, I was just wondering. I think I’ve seen this ring before.” She told him, then blushed. It seemed silly.

  He laughed, kissing her before pulling her to cuddle against him. “You have seen it before, Alex. Two months ago.”

  She looked at him, puzzled. “What?”

  Hunter didn’t bother to hide his grin. “Remember when we went to pick up the watch you got resized for Simon, the one you got him for his birthday?” At her slow nod, he continued. “You saw a ring you liked in the store, and you showed Simon.”

  “But how did you…” She paused, then looked at him suspiciously. Simon had insisted she try on the ring, just for fun he had said. When it fit perfectly, her son had seemed more excited about the fit than the watch. “Simon told you?”

  Hunter laughed again. “Told is an understatement. He practically dragged me to it, and told me I was an idiot if I didn’t buy it for you.”

  Alexandra laughed, and an odd sense of euphoria crept over her. “We have got to get the boy some more hobbies. What if I had said no?”

  Hunter shrugged, pulling her closer. “I would have shriveled up and become a monk until the end of my days,” He joked. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

  She looked up at him, not hiding the tears which trickled down her cheeks. A few weeks ago she was avoiding him, and only meeting for dinner out on the balcony. Now she couldn’t imagine life without him. “I’m glad,” She said, pulling his head to hers for a kiss. “I don’t think you’d look good in a monk’s robe.”

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  There’s too many people to thank, but I’ll do what I can. Thanks first and foremost to my family, who taught me more than I’ll ever be able to express. You listened to me toss around ideas, read whatever I tossed at you, and only infrequently let your eyes glaze over. I am forever grateful.

  The good people over at Scribophile, who read the first draft and didn’t hunt me down to kill me in my sleep. Emily Barnard, Dinah Alexander, Michaël Wertenberg, Renee Grace Thompson, Sarah Mohammed, KF Germaine, A. M. Hudspeth and so many other tireless other “critters,” thanks for going after my story with garden rakes, fine-toothed combs and sometimes shouty capital letters.

  Thanks to Casey Peltier, Angel and Tim, who beta read and hunted the ever-elusive typo monster. Your willingness to read it through and rip off the band-aid when it came to giving constructive criticism was wonderful, a truly rare and unique gift I treasure.

  To my husband, who supported me through an idea still in its infancy. You provided a sounding board and first reader for everything from outlines to blurb. Thank you. I love you.

  To my husband’s family, who sent me advice, recommended great books, and listened when I didn’t know how to explain. Thanks for being wonderful.

  Last but not least, to you. I wouldn’t have much to say without readers. Thanks for being here. Hope you enjoyed the ride.

  © 2015 Olivia Batto

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.