by Rae Kennedy
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I touch his face to look into his eyes.
He smiles, though his forehead has broken out in a sweat. “Fuck. I want inside you so bad. Twenty-seven years I’ve been able to keep it in my pants and now, after one day, the thought of not being able to bury myself inside you is literally making my stomach ache.”
He’s tense all around me, his breathing labored, his erection still hot in my hand.
“I’m on birth control. And I always get tested at my annual exams.” I stroke him gently.
He swallows hard, his face strained.
“My last one was a few months ago. I haven’t been with anyone but you since then. I’m good if you... I mean, if we’re not planning on being with anyone else—”
“I’m not planning on being with anyone else, ever. Only you,” he says forcefully, and then he dips down to kiss and suck on my neck. He brushes his lips along the shell of my ear. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”
I hold his head in my hands and look into his eyes. “Yes.” Because it’s him.
It’s quiet except for our breathing and the sound of my heart pounding.
He shoves his pants down the rest of the way and then he’s back over me, covering us up in the blankets. I’m enveloped in warmth, strong arms, soft kisses, and plush blankets. We take our time kissing and touching, and it’s like everything is new. Each gentle caress awakening the senses like sunlight bursting over the horizon, and it’s only him and me.
Him and me.
The tips of his fingers move slick between my legs, and then the broad, thick tip of him is there, nestled right at my entrance. I sigh as he pushes the head inside.
He strains his eyes closed and lets out a choked whimper as I squeeze his hips between my thighs and pull him in the rest of the way. Inch by inch we connect. He’s warm and silky inside me, filling me up completely, and it couldn’t feel more perfect.
CHAPTER 32
I’m in that languid state between sleep and waking where I can’t open my eyes but I’m drowsily aware of my body and sounds and sensations.
His breath is warm against me, his stubble rough along my inner thigh—I’ll have to give him a shave later. His mouth is gentle and loving, pressing firm kisses everywhere. And his tongue—hot and wet as it sinks between my folds, lapping at my clit and teasing at my entrance. I moan sleepily as I stretch and arch against him.
A faint, amber glow filters in from the window. It’s that hazy space of time between night and day just before the sun comes up. Eric’s scent surrounds me, on my pillow and amongst the sheets as I reach for him between my legs and run my hands gently through his hair.
I hate how early he gets up but I love how he wakes me. These last two weeks waking up with him have been a dream.
As I come to, he becomes more eager, more ravenous, as he eats me out and sucks at my swollen flesh. I’m thrumming all over as the heat intensifies and he lures all of my pleasure to the surface. It doesn’t take long to succumb to the pressure spiraling low in my belly and I shatter around him, falling apart as the tension releases. He crawls over me, eyes still hungry, and puts me back together again with a kiss, settling on top of me.
“Are you going to be okay today?” he asks.
I nod, nuzzling against his palm as he cradles my face. “I’ve had a while to get used to the idea of her moving away. It’ll be good for her. I’m happy for her. I really am. I know it sounds like I’m about to cry right now but it’s really just because I’m so happy.”
He wipes the moisture—which is definitely not a tear—away from the corner of my eye. “Have I told you yet today how much I love you?”
“No. Please tell me right now in great detail.”
“How about I show you?” He grins wickedly as he presses me to the mattress, his erection unmistakable against my thigh. I open for him, welcoming him to me.
A sliver of sunlight spreads across the wall.
“As long as you’re not going to be late for work.”
He shrugs.
“No. Every time you’re late for work and then we have dinner with your parents, they look at me like they know what we were doing.”
“I’m sure they do, Rosenbaum.”
Oh god.
He chuckles. “I promise I won’t be late. Tell you what, I’ll fuck you fast right now, and you can ride my face tonight and I’ll fuck you real slow.”
“Deal.”
* * *
Mom said I could have the day off—encouraged me to drive up to Chicago with Gracie and her dad to say goodbye, even. But being at work will distract me from being so mopey. Plus, I’m only working at the diner a few more weeks until school starts, and I need to save up some money.
She was overjoyed when I told her I found a cosmetology program I wanted to apply to—well, technically she found it, but we don’t need to let her know that her ridiculous stack of pamphlets actually worked. It’s about an hour away, but I can do most of the coursework online and go in for the practical portions two to three days a week.
It’s funny, all the boxes in my room magically disappeared after I’d told her. Not that I really spend time there anymore. No, I basically live in a shed now and I couldn’t be happier about it.
But now I’m a blubbering mess at work and maybe I should have taken the day off.
“And text me on the way. And send me pictures. Selfies, landscapes, your shoes, I don’t care. Let me know when you get there, and what the weather’s like and if any of your neighbors are creepy. Or hot. Send pictures if any of them are hot.”
Gracie laughs and wipes her own eyes as I try to ignore the blurring in mine.
“I will keep you updated constantly. I’ll give you a virtual tour of my apartment, and then we can finish this season of Drag Race over the phone.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She hugs me around the middle and I squeeze her shoulders. “Anyway, you’re going to be so occupied with my brother, you’ll hardly even miss me.”
“He can be very distracting...”
“Speak of the devil.” Gracie points toward the door where Eric and Wes are walking in.
Wes is in front wearing his signature plaid button-down shirt and cowboy hat. He has a small bouquet of flowers, all pink buds tightly packed together tied with a lavender ribbon. I smile and wave at him, but he’s not even looking our direction.
Charlotte greets him with her cute little dimples and he smiles down at her, whispering something as he hands her the flowers. And she gazes up at him, pink and glowing.
“Hey, beautiful.” Eric snakes his arm around my waist and kisses my temple, wisely not commenting on my teary eyes.
“And this is where I leave you,” Gracie says with a sigh.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
And after one more hug for each of us, she’s off, waving goodbye in the rearview mirror to go start a new chapter in her life. And I guess I’m starting one in mine, too.
“Did you want some pie?” Charlotte’s soft voice comes from behind.
We both turn to her at the counter. Blissfully innocent Charlotte.
“Always,” Eric says with a smirk.
She goes to retrieve a piece of pie from the pastry case, her long ponytail swishing behind her.
He pulls me close and I relax into him.
“Admit it,” I whisper. “You’re only here for my pie.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “While I do love your pie—I could eat it every day—I happen to love everything else about you too. Even your sassy mouth.”
“Every day?” I tease.
“Every day for the rest of my life.”
“The rest of your life?” I raise my eyebrows as I wrap my arms around his neck. “That’s some serious, long-term talk right there.”
“I told you, you’re not going to be able to get rid of me.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. And you’ll never want to.”
&
nbsp; “Aren’t we sure of ourselves?”
“Confident.”
“Arrogant.”
“Tenacious.”
“Stubborn.”
“I am when it comes to you.”
“Mm.” I pull his face to mine. His gaze drops and I smile at that little freckle on his upper lip just before he moves in and kisses me on my sassy mouth. The kind of kiss that lingers and deepens and ends in a tight embrace with soft whimpers and small smiles. And I don’t know how I could have ever thought there was anyone more perfect for me than him.
Books by Rae Kennedy:
To Be Your Girl (To Be Yours #1)
To Be Your Wife (To Be Yours #2)
To Be Your Last (To Be Yours #3)
To Be Your Only (To Be Yours #4)
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rae has always been a creator. She has degrees in Architecture and Interior Design but also loves to draw, paint, bake, and, of course, write. A hopeless romantic, she’s been married to her high school sweetheart for eleven years. Together they have three children and live in the Pacific Northwest.
For more info and a complete list of books, visit http://www.raekennedyauthor.com
