“I am.” He kissed her again, extending the contact, letting his tongue dance with hers.
When the kiss ended, she purred and ran her hand over his stiff cock. “Don’t be long.” She slid out of his arms, and he watched as she ghosted out of the room, her pale cream silk nightgown floating around her. He didn’t deserve her and could never be worthy of the woman who’d literally given him his life back. He walked to the tree and bent down, moving packages until he found the one he wanted. Smithson slipped it into the pocket of his silk pajama bottoms and made his way into the bedroom.
Val had shed her nightgown. He walked to the side of the bed, carefully dropped his pajama bottoms, so the box in the pocket wouldn’t make a sound, and kneed onto the bed. He lay between her legs and dropped down to kiss the woman he loved.
He trailed kisses down her neck to her breast and paid attention to the hard tip of her nipple. Val urged him lower, but he had other ideas. He started again at her mouth and then down the other side of her neck. She arched under him, silently pleading for more.
Smith granted her wish and kissed lower, moving slowly as his tongue painted a trail to her sex. Val’s hands tangled in his hair and her hips lifted against his mouth as he lowered. God, the sounds the woman made boiled his blood. Her soft moans, panted pleas, and quiet gasps were the delicious bits he devoured, but they only left him starving for more. These moments were when Val was completely his. When the jobs, the world, and the life they led wasn’t begging for attention. There they were completely vulnerable, something neither of them usually allowed themselves to be. He kissed each thigh and lifted to his knees, pulling her down the bed toward him. Her hair spread like a halo above her. “You are beautiful.” He couldn’t resist dropping down and kissing her.
Val caressed his cheek and stared up at him. “I love you.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d said the words, but like the first time, his breath caught, and he internalized the intensity and the meaning. He dropped and kissed her again and then whispered, “I love you more.”
He entered her, repeating the words in his mind, or perhaps he said them out loud. It didn’t matter. Val was his life, his love, and his salvation. His hips found the fast and deep rhythm that she loved. Her body slowly tightened as he drove them both to their release. They fell over the edge almost simultaneously. He caught himself on his elbows and dropped his head to the pillow beside hers.
Val’s fingers trailed over his skin, sending shivers of sensation through his limbs. “Merry Christmas.” She kissed his shoulder.
He dropped to his side, and she cuddled into him. “Merry Christmas. That was a wonderful present.”
She laughed. “That wasn’t the present.” She rolled and moved over to her side table. “This is the present.”
She handed him a small box. It looked suspiciously like the box he had for her. He reached down to retrieve his and sat up facing her. She looked at the box in her hand and then the one in his. “Did we have the same idea?” She laughed and turned, moving to sit in his lap. “Let’s open them at the same time?”
“Deal.”
Val counted down. “Three, two, one.”
They opened the packages at the same time. He opened the lid of his, and she opened hers. “Oh, God.” She put her hand over her mouth. “Really?”
He smiled and turned his box to her. “Really?”
Val laughed. “Someone should probably pop the question.”
Smith dropped his chin onto her shoulder. “Will you marry me?”
Val took the pale blue diamond solitaire out of the black box and handed it to him, holding her left hand up. He slid the ring onto her finger.
She picked up the silver and diamond band she’d bought him and slipped it on his finger. “I will marry you, Smith. I most definitely will marry you.” She hugged him, and he flopped back onto the mattress. All those years of suffering were over. His Norse warrior angel and savior, his Valkyrie, had chosen him.
EPILOGUE
Flack grabbed his gun from the nightstand and quietly moved to the door. No one should be at his place, especially that early. He checked the drive and frowned in confusion. Dropping the weapon to his side, he pulled back the curtain to make sure it was who he thought it was.
He opened the door. “Smoke? What the fuck, dude?”
“Can I come in?” Smoke looked too damn serious, and that sent shockwaves through his system. He opened the door and beckoned his mentor inside.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I got a call from social services. It’s Brooke.”
Flack jolted. His niece? “What?”
“Seems your sister Trisha’s in-laws have been neglecting her. Social Services were called and given an anonymous tip. They investigated and took Brooke away from them. She’s in the hospital. Malnutrition and other things.”
Flack dropped into the chair. “What other things?”
“Diaper rash that has festered and gotten infected. RSV, which they said is being treated.”