The Beautiful Years II by Annie Rose Welch

Author:Annie Rose Welch [Welch, Annie Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-15T06:00:00+00:00

Why didn’t come to me until later. It slipped in in the midst of darkness, taking me by surprise.

Our bodies were still tangled, still wet with perspiration. The smell of sex percolated through the room, his scent meandering, mine laced through, together a heady philter.

He pulled me closer, neither one of us willing to break the bond. My fingertips caressed his chest, the spot over his heart, and I absentmindedly traced S over the calm beat.

I went to speak but stopped. The night was so quiet, so serene. I didn’t want to disturb whatever it was that we had created between us.

“I doubt there’s much you can break.” His voice came out muffled against my hair. “Say what’s on your mind, baby.”

“Why?”

He fiddled with the strands for some time, sending subtle shivers over me.

“When a man loves a woman—”

“Too generic.”

“Never,” he said. “Classic. But never generic.”

“You have me, Brando.” I stared at my finger over his heart. The diamonds that created the ballerina ring glinted against the darkness, along with the paleness of my skin. “Why now?”

Shock really hadn’t had a place, not during his proposal, or after. Now, in the cover of darkness, cloaked in silence? It seemed to make itself right at home between us. The peace we had found rippled.

“I am who I am,” he said, one hand lifting before it found my skin again. “I separated from my true nature to do the right thing. By nature, it’s not in me to be selfless when it comes to you. It’s not in me to be patient when it pertains to mine. You are mine. It’ll be official. My wife.”

I didn’t miss the emphasis he put on my wife. It was almost proprietary.

“Did you always know that you’d marry me?”

He grinned, real wolfish. “Yeah. You were the only girl in town who could pronounce my last name. So I told myself, unless you want to be called Fawsti by your own wife, you better marry this one. She says Fowsti the way it’s supposed to be pronounced. And she can roll those rrrrrs with the best of them.”

“What!”

He shook with laughter. “Then I told myself, Fausti, not only is she smart enough to pronounce your last name, she’s as flexible as sweet taffy. Damn.” He whistled. “That thing you do with your leg, baby—”

I went to slap him, but he dodged, and we rolled around on the bed, lightning and thunder, him laughing and me still attempting to get a good lick in. He was strong and fast, but he was right, I was flexible to an insane degree and was a brilliant squirm-er. He pinned me more than once, and whether or not he did it to let me win, he let me go, and we would do it again.

The thrill of the hunt turned him on.

Once on top, I went to speak, but he flipped me over, silencing me. I scooted up the bed, eyes firm on his, but he pulled me back down by the ankles.

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