“Will you marry me?” I ask.
She takes the box and sits back, an open-mouth grin on her face. It’s a mixture of awe and happiness. “I used to look at this when I was little. My dad said my rich husband would get me a big, fat rock and we’d live happily ever after. But all I ever wanted was this ring and a husband who loved me.”
I tip her face up to mine with a crooked finger under her chin. “I love you.” I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Did you forget to say yes?”
“I didn’t forget,” she tosses back at me. She sets the box on the table and gets up. “I just haven’t said yes, yet.” She points toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? I’m thirsty.” She gets up like she’s going to walk away, but I grab her shirt in my fist and pull her back down. I pick up the box, take the ring out of it, and hold it up.
“Marry me, Em,” I plead. “If you say yes, we can have lots of crazy sex and live happily ever after.” I want to laugh, but I can’t. It’s not really funny. “Marry me, Em,” I repeat. “Please.”
She smacks me on the forehead with palm of her hand, and I’m momentarily stunned. “Of course I’ll marry you,” she says. She lets me slide the ring onto her finger. “I couldn’t make it easy for you, dummy,” she says. She settles into my side and nuzzles into that spot that’s all hers. There are no secrets between us. Not anymore. And it feels so f**king good.
I kiss her. “Can we go to bed now?” I ask. It’s been weeks since I’ve been inside her, and granted, I was unconscious for part of it, but I’m not now. And I need her more than I need air.
She knocks on the hard cast that goes all the way up to my thigh. “I have a feeling this is going to be a little unwieldy.”
I shake my head. “You’ll just have to get on top.” I draw her across my lap and lift her shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her belly with my fingertips. She reaches to pull her shirt over her head and looks toward the door. “What?” I ask, my breath ragged.
“Someone is at the door,” she says. She slumps against me and breathes hard for a moment. I pick up a pillow and jam it into my lap, cursing to myself.
When she opens the door, her parents fall into the room, followed by all my brothers.
“Welcome home!” my brothers shout.
Emily’s mother picks up Emily’s ringer finger and holds it up. “Did you say yes?” she asks.
“Of course I did,” Emily says. My brothers come over to congratulate me, and her dad is even glowing. What’s up with that?
Matt comes in with pizzas, and he sweeps Emily into a hug. He dips his face into her hair, and I imagine he’s sniffing her. “You smell good,” he says. She smacks him, and he laughs.
“She said yes, huh?” Paul asks as he sits down beside me. He eyes the pillow in my lap and chuckles.
You guys have terrible timing, I sign.
He tries to look innocent. It’s never a terrible time for a you-just-got-engaged party. He points to the pillow and raises an eyebrow. You got the rest of your life to get laid, he signs. He heaves a sigh. I can see his chest fill with air. I’ll run them all out in a little while.
Promise?
He laughs. I promise. He smiles at me though. You got the rest of your life to make love to that woman.
I look at her, and she smiles at me as she pushes her hair behind her ear. I know. And I plan to.
Sam made cupcakes, Paul signs. You want one? He pushes to his feet.
I’ll eat just about anything Sam makes. Bring me two.
You going to get fat and lazy now that you’re getting married?
What’s your excuse? I ask. He punches my shoulder. I wince because I’m still sore. Paul looks into my eyes. You did good picking that one, he signs, nodding toward Emily.
Well, if you ever meet a girl who punches you in the f**king nose when you meet her, marry her, I tell him. He laughs and goes to get a cupcake. I rub the bridge of my nose and think back. I reach for the napkin on the table and start to doodle the tattoo I’ll put on her dad.
I’m thinking he needs a street sign where Madison Avenue and Family converge. Family will be at the top and much more prominent. Madison Avenue will be all glitzed up with lights and baubles while Family will look comfortable and pleasant. Maybe with some filigree and antique markings. Madison Avenue, despite all its wealth, will look poor in comparison. I don’t know how I’ll do it yet, but I’ll figure it out. At the bottom, I’ll write the words he said to me when he asked for the tattoo: My family means the world to me. Without them, I am nothing.
I might have those words put across my ribs because they fit me, too.
Emily
I close the door behind the family. Logan looks tired. It hasn’t been long since his accident, and he’s still recovering. I actually let them stay way too long.
“You need some pain meds?” I ask.
He shakes his head and motions me forward. “Not yet,” he says as he pulls me down to sit on his good knee. He has the other propped on the coffee table. He winces as he moves, though. He’s hurting. I can tell. He lifts the edge of my shirt so he can slip his hand beneath it to lie against my skin. His head falls back on the edge of the couch, and he looks at me through half-closed blue eyes that simmer.Goodness, he’s handsome. And he’s all mine.
His hand tracks up under my shirt until he hefts the weight of my breast in his hand. His thumb swipes across my nipple, and it shoots straight to the center of me.
“Logan,” I protest mildly. “You’re not well enough for fooling around.” I cover his hand with mine and press down. But the heat of his hand seeps through my shirt. I arch my back pressing closer to him. I can’t help it. He’s Logan.
He leans me back so that I’m snuggled in the crook of his arm, lying across his lap. He tugs my shirt up above my br**sts and looks down at me, licking his lips. He flicks the front opening of my bra and bends his head to take my nipple into his mouth.
I am swaddled in him as his tongue has its wicked way with me. My breath catches, and I can’t keep from squirming in his lap. He chuckles, and it’s a breathy sound. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he says.
With a flip of his wrist, he unbuttons my jeans and lowers the zipper. He looks into my eyes as he slides his hand in the front of my panties. He glides across my heat and goes straight for my clit. His hand is hampered by the tightness of my jeans, and he moves in small, tight circles. I need more than that. “Let’s go to bed,” I say.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he says with a laugh. I help him to his feet and put his crutches under him, and he hobbles slowly toward the bedroom.
“Are you sure you don’t need pain medication?” I ask. He looks tired around his eyes.
He shakes his head, leans his crutches against the bed, and shoves his gym shorts and his boxers down to his knees. I walk over and pull off his shoe, then roll his sock down. It takes a minute to get his shorts over his cast, but I do it. He’s rock hard, and his manhood bobs in my face.
“You know, when you woke up, you were pretty drugged up, and you mentioned to Sam that I don’t spend enough time down here.” I take him in my hand and look up at him.
“I did?” he chokes out. He pushes into my grip. “I didn’t mean to. I never talk about stuff that personal with them.” He tips my chin up. “You believe me, don’t you?”
I nod. I lick across the purple head of him. My body is ready for him. It has been too long since he’s been inside me, but I want to do this for him. He makes a noise low in his throat when I take the tip of his manhood into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around it, and he pushes into my mouth. I look into his blue eyes, and he swears.
I let go of his dick with a loud pop when he picks me up and tosses me onto the bed. I sputter, but he doesn’t say a word. He rolls onto his side and arranges me so that my bottom is braced by the fronts of his thighs and my calves are over him. Then he slides inside me slowly and deeply. He stretches me, and I feel the slight sting of not having been with him in so long.
His movements are slow and unhurried as he pushes and retreats with the tiniest rocking motion of his hips. Logan sits up on his bent arm so he can look down at me. His fingertips tug my nipples, and I don’t care that I’m lying here with Logan and he’s inside me and I’m completely exposed and he’s watching me as I enjoy every second.
“I can’t last very long,” he warns.
“Don’t wait for me,” I insist. “I don’t have to come.”
He snorts, though it’s more of a snuffly sound. “You do have to come.” He slides his hands down to my cleft and between my lips, dipping his finger down and pulling back the essence that is us to slicken my clit. He rubs in tight little circles while he pumps into me slowly. I draw my lower lip between my teeth and open my eyes to find Logan staring into my face. God, he’s so pretty.
“You do have to come,” he repeats, and his words make my insides clench. I’m close. I’m so close. I ride his dick, rising and falling as he pulses inside me, and I let my legs fall open wider over his thighs. He uses the tips of all his fingers to rub my center, and we find a rhythm I like.
“Come on my dick, Em,” he pleads. And it finally pushes me over the top. I break, wracked by my orgasm. I feel like I’m going to come apart, but then his fingers slow and he brings me down, quake by tiny quake, until he pushes inside me one last time and grunts, spilling himself inside me as he comes, soaking me with the most intimate part of him.
I lie there draped over his body, na**d, trying to catch my breath. He pulls out of me slowly, shivering as he does so. “I’m afraid you’re a mess,” he tells me. He reaches for his crutches to pull himself up. “Let me get you a towel.”
I jump up and scramble across the bed, snatching his crutches from his hand. He growls and reaches for them. I put them across the room so he can’t get up. “Stay right there,” I say, pointing my finger at him.
He laughs and pulls his shirt over his head. He never got fully undressed. “Can we take a nap?” he asks.
I go to the bathroom and clean myself up and then pad back into the room with a cloth wet with warm water. I pass it to him, and he cleans himself off and lies back on the bed, one arm behind his head so he can look at me. I’m bare-ass na**d, and I don’t care.
“I was going crazy waiting for them to leave,” he admits. He scrubs his hands into his eyes. He looks like he’s ready to drop.
“I was, too.” I go get him a pain pill and some water, and I watch while he takes it. “Do you want something to eat?” I ask.
He shakes his head, yawning. “Want to take a nap with me?” He looks at me, and his love for me shines back in my face. I never thought I would ever feel this happy.
I climb into the bed and roll into his chest, into that space that’s made just for me. We both have a ton of schoolwork to catch up on, but our instructors were accommodating when I told them what happened, particularly in Logan’s situation. I’ve been taping my lectures, which I would do anyway, and I have been listening to them as I have time. He’s much further behind than I am. “You have homework to do when you wake up,” I warn. I snuggle into him.
“I plan to do a lot of things when I wake up,” he says, yawning again. He chuckles.
“Such as?” I ask.
“You.” He laughs and squeezes me tightly.
He lifts my arm and kisses the tattoo on my inner wrist. I look down at the tat that started it all. He set me free when he unlocked my world. He’s the peace in my soul. He’s the one who opened my shackles, and I’ll love him forever.
“Promises, promises,” I mutter. I close my eyes and fall asleep to the beat of his heart.