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“I want you to remember this moment. Right here, right now, just you and me in a fucking SUV, taking a drive to nowhere.” He looks at me pointedly. “Promise me you’ll remember this.”
“And a perfect fucking mouth,” he whispers in reply, an admission that comes far too easily as his gaze lingers on said mouth.
“I’m also thinking you’ve never been properly kissed, fucked, or loved and that you caught a glimpse of something you want for yourself.”
“If you weren’t so determined to keep me out of your bed, I’d be fucking the breath out of you right now, Natalie.”
the next breath, I’m exhaling a groan into her parted lips as she grips the back of my neck, clutching my hair, clutching me to bring me closer. Because we’re kissing.
I want more. I want her.
Just as I reach immeasurable heights by the beauty of new lyrics, Easton removes the headphones and unplugs them, the gorgeous ballad surrounding us both as I open my eyes. The ready praises on my tongue are silenced when Easton’s lips capture mine.
“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, gently pulling out of me and standing abruptly, toeing his shoes off before shoving his jeans down and kicking them away.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers hoarsely, “so incredibly beautiful,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips gently, thrusting harder and deeper as he continues to keep his pace.
Once I’m cloaked in the soft fabric, he snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me back firmly against him, my back to his chest. “Please, let me go,” I whisper. “I don’t think I can,” though quietly delivered, his reply is a direct hit.
By the time I touched down in Austin, Easton had released his first single. I’ll never be able to wrap my head around the shock of hearing the news on the ride home before frantically scanning the radio to listen to it playing. It wasn’t just any song, either, but the one we’d made crazy, life-altering love to a few hours before. It
and crushes our mouths together, his kiss promising and demanding. He ends it just as abruptly. “You can’t—” “I just fucking did,” he replies smugly before releasing me.
EC: I miss you. That’s what I called to say the first time.
“I cried,” her mournful voice becomes clearer, as if she’s only a foot away, “the whole way to the airport.” “I know, baby,” I whisper.
“Please, baby, please,”
“I look at you, and honestly, I just don’t give a fuck. It physically fucking hurt me when you slammed that door on me.”
“Intelligent men don’t let life-changing women pass them by without trying to grasp onto them with both hands. I don’t need endless months to figure out you’re that woman for me. I’m not most men, Natalie. I know exactly what I don’t want, and it’s everything outside of that door. What I do want is standing in front of me, and the idea of letting her walk away from me a second time is fucking eating me alive.”
“This is me fighting dirty for us both, so please just admit it so I can give you the best parts of me, because I want every fucking part of you.”
“Look at us, baby,” he growls, the edge in his voice the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
“There it is, baby. Let go.”
“And now, when I can work it in, I’ll add my new favorite pastime,” his accompanying smile lights my chest, “making my beautiful girlfriend come so hard I put her to sleep.”
“Let go, baby,” he urges softly, “I’m coming with you.”
“I love you.”
He grips the sides of my face, his gaze prodding. “Marry me.”
“Marry me,” he repeats, “let’s do it, let’s make a life together.” He slowly lifts my left hand and presses a soft, full-lipped kiss to my empty ring finger. “Marry me because we’re the rare, lucky ones who managed to find something together so many others don’t have—it would feel criminal not to. For both our sakes, marry me, Beauty, right now, marry me tonight.” “Yes,” I whisper in answer. The only answer that rings clear in both head and heart. “Yes.”
“My wife,” his tone full of wonder. “You found me.”
He chuckles before brushing his lips across mine. “Baby, you have no idea how good it feels to know that you love me the same way I love you.” “And how do we love each other?” “Wholly, unconditionally, and definitively.”
“Please stop screaming at my wife,” Easton bristles, nostrils flaring, voice dangerously low, “you’re scaring her.”
“I love you, my beautiful wife.”
“But I’m trying to be brave in lieu of inappropriate because inappropriate would be confessing that I’m still wholly, unconditionally, and definitively in love with you while you’re on a romantic getaway in Mexico with your girlfriend!”
“Inappropriate would be confessing I never slept with that quarterback because you were the last man to touch me intimately and are the only man I’ll ever want to again…because despite everything that’s happened, I’ve remained faithful!”
