She slipped her hand between them and touched herself where she liked. Wes made a pained sound. “I’m never going to be able to look at this table again without picturing this. We’re going to have to sell the bus, or I’ll get nothing done.”
She laughed, though the sound came out choked and twined with a sound of pleasure. “Worth it.”
“So worth it.” He picked up the speed of his thrusts, his chest damp and glistening with exertion, and she forgot how to respond to any kind of conversation.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The feel of him inside her, her slippery fingers, and him watching her were too much. Her body was racing past any kind of control. “Wes…”
“Bec.” Her name was a plea, and she felt herself go over, crying out and arching on the steel table, the metal warm beneath her. Wes followed quickly behind, burying deep as he came, and gripping her legs like he would fall apart.
A satisfied moan rocked through the interior of the bus as they both floated back down to earth. Wes braced himself on his elbows, poised above her and breathing hard. “The bus is going to need a good, hard cleaning.”
Rebecca grinned up at him. “Butt prints on a table are definitely a health code violation.”
He laughed, the thunderous sound filling her up from the inside. “Yep. Don’t care right now, though.”
“Me neither. This was just what I needed. You.”
He peered down at her, and the look that came across his face nearly broke her in two. He kissed her forehead. “You are the best part of my day, Bec. I’m so glad you’re home.”
She closed her eyes and let the words melt into her. Home.
All her life that word had been barbed. Home was the place she’d almost run away from when her mom had left. Home was the empty hallways when her dad worked late. Home was Long Acre where she’d lost so many people and so much of herself.
Home had never felt like this. Like the right key sliding into the matching lock.
Like forever.
Finally, she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
She reached up and cupped his jaw. “I love you, Wes Garrett.”
He kissed her again. “I love you back, Mrs. Garrett.”
A tingly ripple of contentment went through Rebecca at the sound of that. No one knew to call her that yet, no one knew what they’d done on their seemingly spontaneous trip to Paris last weekend. “Think we should tell everyone yet?”
Wes smiled down at her, his handsome face so familiar to her now but no less breath-stealing. Dimples appeared beneath his scruff. “We’re going to freak everyone out.”
“You look super worried about that,” she said drolly.
He eased away from her and pulled up his jeans. “I’m not. I’m not worried what anyone thinks but you and me. I’ve never been so sure of a decision in my life.”
She sat up and then let him drag her into his lap in the booth seat. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Me neither.”
And that was the truth. She’d spent her life following the rules, doing what was proper, what was expected. Her one act of rebellion early on had cost her so much that she’d been terrified to ever stray off script again. But now she realized that the best parts of life were outside the lines, scribbled in the margins, in the parts without facts and rules and closing arguments. There, it was just feelings and intuition and knowing down to your bones that you’d found the person you wanted to be with forever.
So when she’d walked into that Paris church with Wes and promised him a lifetime, she’d never felt so reckless or so very sure of something in all her life.
Soon, they would tell everyone and make it official here. They’d plan a proper party to celebrate and invite family and friends.
But for now, forever was just for them.
Order Roni Loren’s next book in
The Ones Who Got Away series
The One You Fight For
On sale January 2019