I turned. “And at least once, we have to visit the family restroom together.”
He growled a yes, making me laugh before he caught me in a deep, passionate kiss. My back arched and I moaned against his mouth. Wrapping my arms around his neck I rocked my hips, dreaming of that place of warm sunsets and gorgeous, fireside memories. We’d toast to happy surprises, and we’d share many (after)glowing thank yous.
~ The End ~
Epilogue
Derek
Her dark hair fans out over the white pillow in perfect curls. Lifting one, I gently twist a shining spiral around my finger, sliding my thumb across the silky strand. The only thing more beautiful is her face, smooth and blissful in sleep.
I rest my head on my hand as I watch her breasts gently rise and fall, thinking of our last two months together. Early in December, I’d won her back by having that bastard Sloan arrested. I’d wanted to do more. Standing over his unconscious body in her living room, after he’d tried to hurt her again…
It had been years since I’d fought the urge to kill someone. If she hadn’t been there, I might’ve.
Of course, he posted bail and was back hiding in his mansion a day later. He called in his team of lawyers, and Melissa backed down. I wasn’t ready to let it go, but she begged me to drop it. She didn’t want to be front-page news or dragged through a long ordeal. Reluctantly, I gave in to her. But every time I see that tiny silver scar near her hairline, it takes all my strength to keep from driving to Baltimore and beating him to a bloody pulp.
Only her bright eyes and happy smile calm those thoughts. And now she’s having my baby. Our pre-Christmas slip up had been one too many, but I couldn’t be happier. When Alison died, I thought my chances at being a father were over. That day, I’d walked away from everything having to do with love and family. I’d shut down, not even interested in trying again. Then six years later, my twisted mentor brought this gorgeous creature into my life.
The night I saw her in Scottsdale, I’d never seen such intense sadness in another person before. She was so beautiful, and yet she was visibly suffering. I knew how that felt. I’d struggled with intense sorrow, but somehow as the time had passed, my mourning period had ended, and I wanted her. I wanted to take all her unhappiness away w
ith my love if she’d let me. And she did.
My hand moved from the curl around my finger to the top of her forehead, right where her dark hair met her ivory skin. Barely touching her, I remembered how incredible that first night had been—that whole week. It was a second chance. Until we’d had to part.
She stirs, dipping her chin the way she always does before opening her eyes. No use thinking about the days we were apart because now we’re together, and I’m going to make her my wife.
Her gorgeous blue eyes blink open, and I can’t help but smile. “Good morning.”
“Were you watching me sleep?” Her soft voice is thick with sleep, and she turns her face into the pillow. Her slim bare shoulder lifts to her cheek, and just like that I have a hard-on. I want to pull her under me and kiss that shoulder, those lips, every part of her, but I control myself. She’s just opened her eyes after all.
“You’re beautiful when you sleep.” I state the obvious, which always makes her blush. The fact this woman can’t see how gorgeous she is drives me nuts. At the same time, it’s part of the reason I love her so much. She’s so focused on her work and her plans and us. She’s completely unself-conscious.
“How are you feeling?” My hand travels down the length of her smooth back. Her body hasn’t started showing she’s pregnant yet. Well, her breasts are slightly larger, but they’ve always been the right size for me. Perfect handfuls.
She scoots into my chest, and immediately my arms go around her small frame. I love being able to lift her against me when we make love or surround her with protection. But, she’s tough as nails. She lived through a year of hell and without anyone’s help, she survived and made a new life for herself. That old urge to kill Sloan flickers again in my chest, but she banishes it by lifting her chin and kissing my throat.
“Hungry,” she says, answering the question I’d left hanging. And with that she pushes above me, smiling. “I know I’m not really eating for two, but I swear, I don’t remember ever craving breakfast like this. I want eggs with cheese and tomatoes and peppers…”
I laugh, lifting a clutch of dark curls off her shoulder and planting a kiss there. Her skin smells like roses and the ocean.
“And bacon!” she cries. “I want applewood-smoked bacon so bad right now. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”
“You don’t have to sell bacon to me.” I pull her to me and kiss her nose.
Last night, her body had been wrapped around me in the most amazing way. As always, she’d cried out my name, shaking and moaning as she came hard and full over me. It was all I could do to hold out as she finished, she was so fucking gorgeous. I would do anything to keep this woman happy.
“I’m at a little disadvantage here,” I say, sitting up with her in my arms. “You’re a local now, but I’m still in Princeton. I don’t know the best place to satisfy these new cravings.”
Her arms go around my neck and she kisses my lips briefly. “Then let me show you!”
I smile, reaching for her, but she’s gone—headed to the bathroom, leaving me to admire her perfect ass and tame this erection she’s left me with. My sexual urges have to wait, it seems. Clearly, the mother of my child needs bacon.
“There’s this historic little place in town,” she calls from the hallway. I step into the boxer-briefs I tossed across the room last night after we returned home from dinner with Elaine and Patrick. Our clothes are a messy trail leading into the kitchen where we started.
Patrick relocated his base of operations to Wilmington last month. It was his early Christmas gift to Elaine, and it looked like he might beat me to the marriage punch. But I have a plan for today. And well, I already laid the ground work for it the night we made junior. Since then idea of us getting married has been theoretical, but today, I’d make it official.
“What’s the name?” I call back, studying the picture of her and her mother in a weathered-wooden frame on her dresser. The two smile exactly alike, but her mother doesn’t have Melissa’s gorgeous blue eyes.