by Harper Sloan
"I did do better, didn't I?" I give a wobbly laugh when he winks, taking my mom's hand and pulling her into the crowd over to where the Reids are--well, one-half of them since I don't see Nate's dad, Axel. The Becketts, Coopers, and Cages are laughing and smiling in the back corner.
Their children scattered around the room, as well, but I only have eyes for the long-haired man in black standing in front of A Beautiful War with his father at his side.
I'm stopped a few times on the way to him. A few critics from the local paper and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution stop me for a few quick questions, making my high for the night climb even higher. The AJC? Holy crap. That's huge for them to feature an Atlanta artist! By the time I'm stepping up behind the Reid men, I might as well be walking on clouds I'm so happy.
"You going to tell her tonight?" I hear Axel ask his son.
"Yeah. I can't wait any longer. It's killing me to keep it from her."
My heart seizes in my chest, and I drop the hand that had been reaching for Nate's shoulder as I wait to hear what else they have to say. If they wanted privacy, well, then they should have had this conversation somewhere else.
"Good you don't wait any longer. Women don't appreciate that shit."
Nate nods, still looking at the canvas in front of him.
"Didn't want it to come to this, but I can't keep it in anymore."
This time Axel bobs his head, taking a swallow of the champagne in his hand. After a few seconds--minutes maybe--Axel gives him a slap on his shoulder and turns. He stumbles a little in his step when he sees me behind them but just bends to kiss my temple, covering his misstep.
"Congratulations, Ember," he acknowledges softly.
Nate's shoulders tense, but he doesn't turn. After his father walks away, I wait for it, but he still doesn't give me his eyes. Their words run through my mind and instead of feeling the overwhelming desolation I would have expected to feel, I have too much faith in him to just walk away without demanding an explanation.
I haven't come this far to just give up. If he's going to end it, he's going to tell me right now to my face.
Squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath, I step around him, standing between him and the wall holding A Beautiful War. A fitting place, if there ever was one. Even if the crowd is milling about just a few feet away.
"Nate?" His eyes roam over the piece behind me for a second before looking at me, giving me his attention, and the fierceness in his gaze almost makes my knees buckle. "What is it?"
He studies my face before looking back over my shoulder. "That's us."
Not a question.
"That was us," I correct.
"And what changed?" he continues as his attention stays focused on the painting.
"Everything," I breathe.
With a deep inhale, I finally get his stunning green eyes. "Give me more than that, Emberlyn. What changed to end our beautiful war?"
Time to go for broke. We've been leading up to this for weeks now, and after everything that we've been through to get to this point, I just need to take a leap and pray this time things will end differently than it did the last time I told him how I felt.
"My head collided with my heart."
His pupils dilate, his eyes getting stormy as his nostrils flare. "Give me more," he demands, taking a step toward me until just the smallest of space separates us from touching.
"Love won."
His chest heaves, jolting at my words, and he dips until we're nose to nose. "More."
"I love you." I softly comply with his demand, my voice steady, strong, and true. "I love you. And even though that has never changed through the years, regardless of my fears and hurt, what made everything change was when I realized you not only wanted my heart, but you would also protect it when I took the last step toward you and asked for yours in return again."
"I have all of you?"
"I think you always have."
His hand snakes out, going around my middle to pull me to him as he straightens to stand, my feet lifting to dangle above the ground. I reach up, curling my fingers over his shoulders as our breath mingles between us.
"Tell me again." The hunger in his eyes betrays the calmness in his voice.
"I love you."
His eyes close, and he presses his forehead against mine.
"Nate?" I whisper when he doesn't move.
"I had it all planned." His words just barely a whisper. "Everything I wanted to say to you, show you, and give you ... all planned. It was getting so hard to keep it from you, though. I took one look at this painting, and I knew I couldn't wait any longer. It was killing me to keep those plans from you, but I just had to be patient."
I think back to the conversation I had overheard between him and his father when he finishes talking, and my body jolts when I realize what had really been going on.
"I knew that tonight I had to tell you, regardless if I had proven myself worthy of getting it in return, and I had to take a chance that you were ready to give that back to me. Then I see this and I knew that even if you weren't ready, I was more than prepared to give you enough to last for the both of us until you were."
Finally opening his eyes, I gasp when I see the blazing brightness illuminated by the slight dampness in them.
"My God," I wheeze when his arms tighten around me, wishing we were alone so that I could wrap my legs around him and never let go.
"I love you, Emberlyn Locke. I can't change that we lost us for a while, but I can promise you with everything that I am that you will never, not for one second for the rest of our lives, know another day without that love."
"Oh, Nate."
His mouth presses against mine. Not in a deep kiss, but the soft touch of his lips against mine is all I need to feel like we're the only ones in a crowded room. Taking my hands from his shoulders, I wrap them around his neck and take a deep pull of air through my nose, my eyes watering as every single crack I had ever had in my heart repairs itself with the power of us winning our beautiful war.
In his arms, I know that no matter what, as long as I'm with him, we can win any fight that is in our path.
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND."
Annabelle gives me a sly smile before looking over my shoulder. I turn and follow the path to see Nate standing with our group, and Dani and Cohen laughing at something he's said. Maddi is standing with Cohen's sisters as they talk to Liam and Megan. The rest of our group--Stella, Zac, and Jax, as well as Cohen's brothers--left when the doors locked.
Turning back to Annabelle, I try to make sense of her last words.
"It is quite unorthodox but not unheard of."
"You're telling me, and not joking, that every single one of my paintings was sold before anyone arrived?"
There's no way. I mean sure we had sent out a little teaser to the guests before the show, but there is no way that someone would have even had time to see the whole collection, let alone enough people to buy the whole damn thing.
"I didn't say no one had arrived, just that every piece was paid for before the show started."
"Can you please stop talking in riddles and just let me see the purchase orders."
Her smile grows, and I look behind me when I feel Nate press against my back.
"What's going on?"
I turn slightly to look up at him while I sink into his hold, loving the way his hard muscles feel against my body.
"I'm trying to get Annabelle to tell me why, when my dad tried to buy a painting earlier, he was denied. She said that was because everything was sold, but Nate"--I take a deep breath after rushing that out quickly--"he tried to make a purchase less than thirty minutes after people started arriving."
"I see," he responds, his eyes alive with mirth. "Well, Annabelle?"
Pulling my attention back to her, I watch in confusion as she throws her head back and laughs.
"You," she says and points at him. "Are trouble."
"You might as well just show her the purchase order, so
I can get my girl home to celebrate."
"Trouble," she huffs under her breath, shifting some things around on her desk before handing me the purchase orders.
Expecting to see a spreadsheet of orders or, at the very least, more than one single sheet of paper, my brain freezes.
"Oh my God," I stutter, seeing the words but not really understanding them.
"I told you I wanted every piece of you, and I'll be damned if I share this part of your stunning mind with anyone else."
"What have you done?" Still mumbling, my eyes rake over every word. It really isn't a question since not only can I see it with my own eyes, but also the only thing I'm capable of getting past the huge lump of emotion burning my throat.
"I have all of you now, Ember."
"Oh, my God."
Tears burn my eyes and I look up to an elated Annabelle. I'm sure she's thrilled that she sold every piece. After all, her commission alone is worth being excited about, but she looks like my reaction alone is worth more to her than any money she made tonight.
His deep chuckles at my shock vibrate against my back, and with a hitch in my breath, I turn with a leap and bury my head in the crook of his neck and cry the happiest tears I've ever shed.
"You're crazy," I tell him.
"Crazy for you."
"That ... God, Nate. Do you have any idea how much money you just spent?"
He shrugs.
"Where are you even planning to put all of these?" My question is a hushed whisper against his smiling lips.
"I guess we can give one to your dad," he answers in complete seriousness. "But our war is going home with us. That's mine."
"There are still over thirty paintings that you now own, Nate."
His lips part, his teeth showing as he smiles big. "Looks like we're about to have some full walls then."
"I love you, you crazy man."
"I know."
I raise a brow, his laughter booming around us. "I love you, too."
"Nate!" I scream when his hand smacks against my exposed ass. "Please," I beg.
"If I would have known you were walking around bare under this dress." His words come out so deep and full of lust that he sounds animalistic.
My fingers flex against the wall in front of me, wishing he had, at least, pushed me against the couch instead so I would have something to grip. We didn't even make it a step inside the door before he was pushing me against the wall and making true to his promise earlier when he pulled my dress's tight skirt over my hips.
Then he discovered just what I had on underneath. Or, rather, what I didn't.
And that is where we are now. He's standing behind me panting while one palm between my shoulders pins me against the wall as his other continues to spank each of my naked cheeks.
He takes a handful of my flesh and gives me a painful squeeze, the feeling shooting something so heavenly between my legs. He lets go, brings his hand down again over the heated skin, and shifts so I can feel his pants-covered erection between my cheeks.
"You look so fucking hot wearing my marks," he utters against my shoulder before his teeth take a hard nip.
"Oh, God." I gasp.
He continues to play with me, nipping and licking at my shoulder and neck while rocking against me.
"Please. I need you, Nate," I whine, pushing against him.
"My mouth or my cock?"
My mouth moves, and between pants and incoherent mumbling, I try to answer. My legs are shaking so violently; the release I so desperately need is just within reach, rendering me incapable of conscious thought, let alone speech.
"You're soaking my pants, Ember. You need me, baby?"
I give him a nod, my forehead hitting the wall softly. With no strength left, I leave it there and sigh.
Nate continues his tantalizing movements with hips rocking against my backside. The burn of his pants against my heated flesh only spikes my growing need for him with each rub. His hands come up to roughly grab my breasts through the dress, pinching my nipples harshly. I whine and he answers with a coarse laugh.
With quick movements, he has me turned. My back hits the wall as my legs come up to hook behind his back. The second his hips connect with my core, I notice that at some point he had shed his pants, the hard heat of his bare erection hitting the spot that needs him the most, and I whimper shamelessly.
With our faces level, noses touching with each deep inhale, it's as if we both feel the need to be as close as possible and our hands move. Mine slowly travel up his chest until the tips of my fingers are in his silky hair and my thumbs are at his cheekbones. He moves slower, stabilizing our weight with his body before framing my face, his thumbs sweeping over my cheek slowly.
His luminous eyes burn their gaze into mine as he stares at me with raw hunger. Our mingled breaths rush between parted lips, just inches from touching, as we continue to gaze at each other. What had started as a desperate desire to feel each other changes in that instant; it's no longer about the hunger to find our releases, but to share something more intense than we ever had before.
I gasp when he lifts his body from mine; taking his cock from the hug my lips had been giving it, I mourn the loss. With our faces so close, I see his hooded eyes darken to a mossy green that burns brightly, reminding me of a rain-soaked field after a hard downpour.
Hypnotizing.
Alluring.
All-consuming.
The second he enters my body, we both call out. His fingers flex on my neck and pull my forehead to his without breaking eye contact.
He moves slowly, each inch entering my body with unhurried measured thrusts that have a new burn crawling up my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. I tighten my thighs, trying to bring him closer, or speed him up, but he ignores me. Even as my whimpers turn to an aroused whine, he doesn't take me harder than the slow glide he had created. The sounds of our breaths echoing around us mingle with the wet sounds of him entering and exiting my body.
"More," I say breathily.
His forehead rocks against mine as that mossy green brightness takes on a blaze from within. His nostrils flaring and his breathing labored.
"More," I beg.
His movements still with his cock buried deep. I whimper, the fullness stretching me. He twitches but still doesn't move. Just bores into me with an expression that causes my heart to gallop at dangerous speeds.
"I love you." His voice is guttural, hoarse from the intense moment we're sharing.
"I love you, too. So much."
Not breaking eye contact and his cock still deep inside me, he closes the small distance to my lips. Only when our tongues make contact does he start to move again. The same slow--painfully slow--infiltration of mind, body, heart, and soul.
I pull my mouth from his when the intimacy becomes too much. My hands fall from his face to his neck, and I feel my eyes wet when I realize that, at this moment, we're as close as anyone could ever get to experience paradise.
Not even completely nude and with me against the wall, Nate makes love to my body. And if there was any doubt about him owning all of me before now, it was obliterated the second I clamped down on him with a scream as his own grunt of completion rumbled from deep in his chest.
IT'S BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE Ember's art show.
Two weeks since I earned the right to have her heart back and gave her mine in return. Sometimes, I feel like the biggest pussy-whipped bastard around because all it takes is one sly smile from her and I'm ready to drop to my knees and promise her the fucking world.
And I love every single second of it.
She's still at my house, and honestly, I wasn't kidding when I had told her that it was where I wanted her. Fuck rushed. I don't see the point in changing the way things are now just because society has some misconception on how fast two people in love should move. Ember and me, we aren't conventional. Our past proves that, and just because we haven't been together that long--almost two months--we've known each other our whole lives. We
're closer than most couples who have been married for years.
So if I want my girl with me, I'm going to make sure I do whatever it takes to convince her to stay.
However, judging by how quick her dad is moving the construction on her house along, I have a feeling that he isn't too happy with his daughter 'living in sin.'
I make a mental note to have a conversation with him tonight at our first family dinner together as a couple. I would be a fool if I weren't a little worried that he might kick my ass just for suggesting it.
But it's a chance I'm willing to take.
Even though everyone had come out to her show, our parents knew that we were together now, but they haven't actually come face-to-face with just how together we really are. There hasn't been time before tonight. She's been busy working in my guest room on some more pieces Annabelle had commissioned out, and I've been busy with Dirty.
Thankfully, Dirty is running so smoothly with Shane and Dent managing the club that I've been able to really take a step back. I still go in every day, but I trust my team, and I've been able to be home early more often than not. My girl got the dates she deserved, and it's rare that I miss one of her home-cooked meals. Sometimes, she comes with me when I go over at night, and sometimes, she doesn't. All that matters is that we found our stride and it's fucking perfect.
"Hey, handsome," I hear and look up from the socks I had been pulling on to see Ember standing in the bedroom doorway, Bam panting at her side.
Pulling my jeans legs down, I grab my shoes and slip them on before standing to get my hands on her. She laughs when I bend and grab her ass to pull her up so that I can take her mouth. The sound muffles against my lips, and I smile, breaking the kiss to look at her.
"Hey baby, you ready?" Her face heats and she pulls one plump lip between her teeth. Well, shit. I thought she had gotten over her nerves about tonight, but apparently not. "What is it?"
"Nothing really. I just stupidly let some nerves take root."
"I told you, Ember, you have nothing to feel uneasy about."
She gives me an adorable pout, and I have to remind myself that we really don't have time for me to fuck her. Even if we did, I'm pretty sure her father would kill me if we show up smelling like sex, regardless of me having his blessing to be with his little girl.
