I don’t want to let her go. But how do I make her a permanent part of my life? How do I convince her to come home with me, when this is her home? There’s no way I can live here. Not yet at least. I have a life and a career back in California, and despite the knee injury, it’s not over. I refuse to let it be over.
So I gotta go back. I wanna take Susanna with me.
Will she go willingly? Or will she end it because we live in two separate worlds?
See why I’m so fucking nervous?
“Cannon.”
I hear Susanna call my name and I look over at her, see the confused expression on her face. “I’ve said your name three times. Are you all right?”
“Just thinking is all,” I say with a shrug, hanging my head so I can stare at her pretty bare feet. I’m not a foot man. I don’t have that kind of fetish. With Susanna, I’m more of a tits and ass man because damn, the girl has curves, but her feet are pretty too. She’s got cute little toes painted a deep red, and her skin is pale. I give her ankle a squeeze then slide my hand up, under the black yoga pants she’s wearing, encountering prickly skin.
“I haven’t shaved in a while,” she says, her cheeks pink. “I wasn’t expecting you, and I was just in hospital, so…”
“I don’t mind.” Makes her more real anyway, and I appreciate that. If we can’t be real with each other, then we’re doomed.
“I call it my winter fur,” she says with a smile, and I laugh.
“Doesn’t feel much like fur right now,” I say, smoothing my hand up the length of her calf.
“It’s in its growing-out stage.” She’s laughing too. “I’ve never let a man see my winter fur before.”
“I’m getting a lot of your firsts.” My hand is on her knee now, my arm tunneling up the leg of her pants, and I know I’m playing with fire. I shouldn’t touch her like this. Next thing I know, I’ll have my fingers between her legs and she’ll be begging me to make her come.
My cock twitches at the thought.
“I like that,” she admits softly. “I want to give you more firsts.”
My heart constricts. Damn, this woman. I can’t take it anymore.
I gotta say something.
Cannon’s looking at me strangely. His eyes are fixed, right on my face, and his hand is gently gripping my knee, his thumb stroking back and forth, lulling me. Luckily enough I have no injuries below the waist, so I am enjoying his wandering hands pain-free.
Wish he would touch me in more sensitive places, but I don’t think I’m going to get that lucky.
“Susanna.” His voice is scratchy, and he clears his throat, his serious expression making my nerves kick up a notch. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Oh God. This is it. He’s going to let me down easy. Tell me how much he’s enjoyed our time together, but our relationship has too many obstacles and it’s impossible for us to overcome them all. I brace myself, my ribs aching, the tears threatening as I focus on his mouth and the words that tumble forth.
“I’m in love with you.”
Wait.
What?
“What?” I say out loud.
He smiles. And that’s when I notice. He looks terribly nervous. His eyes are practically pleading with me to agree with him, and the hand still clutched around my knee is shaky.
“I’m in love with you. I know we haven’t known each other very long, and I’m probably moving way too fast for you, but I love you. I want to be with you, and I will do whatever it takes to convince you that we’re good together.” He sounds fierce, he sounds like a fighter, and I know just hearing him say those particular words, in that particular voice, that he would fight for me.
Always.
“We are good together,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“So good together. You’re all I think about. You asked me if I thought you were interesting? You’re the most interesting person I know. I can’t stand being apart from you, Sus. I know I’m real busy with football, and maybe I didn’t show it as much as you needed to see, but I missed you so damn much these last six weeks we’ve been apart. If we’d met during the off season, I could’ve devoted more time to you, but we didn’t.”
“We would’ve never met during the off season,” I remind him. “You came here to play football. So football brought you to me.”
“True.” He smiles, and it’s a beautiful sight. He’s a beautiful man. Big and burly and a little rough around the edges and all mine.
Mine, mine, mine.
“I’m in love with you too,” I say, my voice just a whisper. His eyes darken the second the words leave me, and then he’s coming closer, his mouth landing on mine, his hand falling away from my knee to reach up and cradle the side of my face.
“You don’t know how much of a relief it is to hear you say that,” he murmurs against my lips seconds later, both of us breathless.
“I thought you were going to break up with me,” I admit, and he chuckles.
“Never.” He kisses me again, then pulls away. “I want you to come back to California with me.”
I’m gaping at him. “What?”
“I’m serious. Move in with me. Live with me. After I have my knee surgery, when I’m better, we can travel around the country. I can show you the sights,” he says eagerly.
“But…what will I do in California? When you’re in good shape and playing football once again?” My mind is awhirl with all the possibilities.
“You can do whatever you want.” He’s grinning, his hand still on my face, and I lean into his palm, closing my eyes for a brief moment, overwhelmed by his love, his words, our future.
Together.
This move, this relationship with Cannon, could be the change I need. The catalyst to push me out of my rut, to allow me to be free and figure out who I really am.
I want to go. I want the adventure.
I want a life with Cannon.
“If you need time, I totally understand. You have responsibilities here,” he tells me when I must take too long to answer him. “I’m probably moving too fast for you.”
“No.” I shake my head, and his entire mood deflates. I realize quick my wrong choice of words. “Wait, I mean no, you’re not moving too fast for me. I’ll go to California with you.”
Before I can say anything else, he’s kissing me again, his lips drugging me, putting me under his spell. “I’ll make an honest woman of you,” he whispers after he breaks the kiss. “When I take you to California, I’ll find the biggest diamond I can afford and put it on your finger so everyone knows your mine.”
I like his mine talk. It’s a little caveman, and a lot sexy. “I don’t need a big diamond,” I tell him, lifting my right hand so I can tunnel my fingers through his hair. “As long as I have you.”
“I’m giving you a big diamond,” he says with finality, and I’m not going to protest.
Secretly, I always did want a large diamond on my finger so I can show it off. What woman doesn’t?
“I’ll have to tell my parents right away,” I say.
“Think they’ll be mad at me?” he asks with a frown.
“They won’t be pleased I’m leaving. They’ll worry about me and think I’m too impulsive, but I don’t care. They’ll have to get used to it.” Now I’m the one who’s cupping the side of his face. “Not to put any pressure on you, but if you do put a ring on my finger, that’ll ease their worry somewhat.”
“If you’re cool with it, that’s my immediate plan,” he says eagerly.
“I am so cool with that,” I say with a laugh, pulling him back in for a kiss.
“Everything’s going to change,” he tells me minutes later, when we’re still snuggled together on the couch, the TV show forgotten, and only focused on each other. “When you come to California with me.”
“I know.” I’m grinning. “I can’t wait.”
Six months later
“Hey, got your text. Are you okay?” Cannon comes to a complete stop in the doorway
, his eyes going wide when he sees me. “What the hell?”
I’m lying in the middle of the California king bed, wearing absolutely nothing. No bra, no panties, no nothing.
I am completely naked in the middle of the afternoon and I sent Cannon a silly text saying I needed him to come back to our suite right away. We’re staying at a fancy hotel on Pebble Beach—we came with some of Cannon’s teammates—and he was out golfing with them, but I got bored.
And horny.
“Damn, woman, I gave up my golf game for you.” He’s already tearing off his polo shirt, his abs rippling with the movement, and my fingers itch to touch him. Stroke him, lick him, suck him, all of the things.
All of the many, many things he likes me to do to him.
“I hope I’m worth it,” I say innocently, my mouth dropping open when he undoes his khakis and reveals the monster erection stretching the front of his navy blue boxer briefs. He kicks off his shoes, sheds his pants and underwear, and then he’s just as naked as me.
“You are so worth it,” he says, his tone menacing as he stands at the end of the bed. Not menacing in a bad way, more like menacing in an I’m going to eat you up and you’re going to scream for more way.
“What are you waiting for then?” I arch a brow, a move I’ve been working on for months in the mirror when I put on makeup in the morning or do my hair. Or brush my teeth.
Okay, fine, I’ve been practicing the move endlessly, and I finally think I have it down.
He practically leaps on the bed, the mattress sagging beneath his weight. I have a flash of worry for a moment—he only just wrapped up physical therapy for his knee, and I don’t want him hurting it again—but I quickly realize he’s fine.
And he’s currently got his lips wrapped around my nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth.
I slide my fingers into his hair and keep him there, arching into his mouth, closing my eyes as the delicious sensation of his lips and tongue on my flesh washes over me. This never gets old. Spending time with Cannon, talking to him, laughing with him, having sex with him, it never, ever gets old.
I never, ever want it to stop.
“So wet,” he murmurs when he slips his fingers between my legs and they come away dripping. I’ve been in a state of perpetual horniness since we’ve arrived in Carmel two days ago. I want to do it constantly. I don’t know if it’s the sea air or what, but I’m not complaining. And neither is Cannon.
“All for you,” I tell him, and his eyes flare with heat. I’ve become a little more comfortable with the dirty talk and I even toss out the occasional raunchy comment, but that’s rare.
Baby steps is what I tell Cannon.
“Hmm, can’t wait to take a taste.” He grins, moving down my body, dropping kisses here and there. Just below my rib cage. On my stomach, tongue dipping into my navel and making me squeal. A kiss on one hip, then the other. His big hands spreading my legs wider, his mouth on the inside of my knee, trailing up to the inside of my thigh. So close. So very, very close…
His fingers in my pubic hair, the pubic hair he barely lets me trim. He’s a total fan of the bush, as he calls it, and will hardly let me manicure it.
Finally, his mouth is exactly where I want it. Delivering sweet kisses. Hot breath. Teasing tongue. Fingers slipping inside my body, one, two at a time. He wraps his lips around my clit, sucking it, tonguing it, and already I’m close. The orgasm just out of reach, Cannon’s mouth and fingers drawing it closer. Closer still.
“Oh.” The word falls from my lips, a warning, and he knows all of my tells. He increases his pace, fingers pumping, tongue flicking, and me coming. Shivering and shaking with his name falling from my lips, my fingers clutched tight in his hair, pulling. Probably hurting him.
I don’t care. Every time he goes down on me, he gives me such a toe-curling orgasm. I tend to lose control. He knows this, yet continues to go down on me anyway.
That’s the risk he’s prepared to take.
“Mmm.” Once my orgasm as subsided, he’s lying next to me, his mouth on mine, the salty taste of me still on his lips and tongue. I kiss him eagerly, overcome with need for him and within seconds he’s on his back and I’m on top of him, reaching for the bedside table and grabbing the condom lying there in wait.
I planned this interlude right down to every last detail.
“I’m feeling lazy,” he tells me as I scoot down and tear open the wrapper, rolling the condom onto his thick erection. It flexes in my hand and I wrap my fingers around the base, giving him a firm stroke. He chokes out a groan, making me smile. “You gonna ride me?”
“You want me to ride you?”
“Yeah.” He watches as I climb back on top of him, straddling his hips, lowering myself onto his cock. “I wanna watch your tits bounce.”
I should be appalled that he calls them tits, but his words don’t bother me. He loves my tits. And my plump ass, as he calls it, and especially my juicy pink pussy. His crude talk is but one of many reasons why I love him.
And I do. I love him so fiercely that when I think about it too much, my throat starts to feel tight and my eyes begin to sting.
Bracing my hands on the wall that is his chest, I start to ride him. Going slow at first, sliding up and down his erection, both of us moaning in agony when he fills me to the absolute hilt. He’s long and thick and I feel so full every time we do this, yet it’s like I can’t get enough. I want more.
When it comes to Cannon, I’m greedy.
He rests his hands on my hips, guiding me, encouraging me to move faster. I follow his lead, bouncing harder, sending him deeper, the friction between us sparking, firing us both up. His hands move from my hips to my breasts, and he squeezes and kneads them. Suddenly he sits up, his cock still inside me, his mouth on my neck, my chest, the valley of skin between my breasts.
I wrap my arms tight around his neck and hold him, pausing in our movements. His hands go to my butt, fingers playing with the spot where his cock is filling me and I whimper in his ear. Those busy fingers slide up my butt crack, and my inner walls pulse and clutch.
“You love that,” he whispers with satisfaction.
“I love everything that you do to me,” I say with total and complete honesty.
“You especially love it when I play with your ass.”
I sink my teeth into his shoulder muscle and he hisses in a breath. “You like it when I play vampire with you.”
“I do like it when you bite me,” he admits, his hips shifting. I can tell he’s getting impatient—he wants to continue where we left off—and so I start to move again. Loving how intimate this position is, wrapped around each other, our sweaty bodies clinging, the sunlight from the giant window nearby shining upon us. All my flaws on display.
He loves every one of my flaws. He doesn’t even see them as flaws. He only sees me.
Me.
Our breathing increases, the slap of our damp-with-sweat skin filling the otherwise quiet room, and he goes tense beneath me, his tell that he’s close. His fingers dig into the flesh at my hips, his mouth breaking away from mine to exhale roughly, a groan emitting from low in his throat just before the shudders begin. I hold him close, working my body up and down his cock, another orgasm washing over me. This one like quicksilver. There and gone, slipping away just as I grab hold of it.
“Wow,” he whispers against my throat once we’ve settled down. He kisses me there, his mouth rising, running along my jaw. “You can interrupt my golf game any time.”
“Are your friends mad you had to leave?” I stroke his back, reveling in his smooth, muscled skin.
“More like they were worried about you.”
“Oh.” I swallow hard, fighting the guilt. “Now I feel terrible.”
“Ha, got you.” He tickles my waist and I sock him in the arm, annoyed. “They were glad I left. I was winning.”
“You’re a good golf player?” He’s never really talked about golf before. I had no idea he could even play until he asked me
about going on this trip a month ago.
“I’m good at everything I do.” He waggles his brows at me. “Don’t you know that by now?”
“I do know that you’re good at loving me.” I touch his nose with my index finger, my gaze snagging on the giant diamond resting on my ring finger. He gave it to me on Valentine’s Day, a cliché we both acknowledged, but we don’t care.
Love is love. We don’t need Valentine’s Day to declare it, but it made the moment memorable.
“It’s like I was born to do it,” he tells me, his warm mouth moving against mine as he speaks.
I kiss him, our lips clinging, our breaths mingling. “You do it so well,” I tell him.
And he does.
Interested in Tucker McCloud’s story? Then check out NOTHING WITHOUT YOU, part of the Kristen Proby Crossover Collection, coming March 12th!
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy…
Designing wedding cakes is Maisey Henderson’s passion. She puts her heart and soul into every cake she makes, especially since she’s such a believer in true love. But then Tucker McCloud rolls back into town, reminding her that love is a complete joke. The pro football player is the hottest thing to come out of Cunningham Falls—and the boy who broke Maisey’s heart back in high school.
He claims he wants another chance. She says absolutely not. But Maisey’s refusal is the ultimate challenge to Tucker. Life is a game, and Tucker’s playing to win Maisey’s heart—forever.
The Kristen Proby Crossover Collection features a new novel by Kristen Proby and six novellas by some of her favorite writers:
Kristen Proby – Soaring with Fallon
Sawyer Bennett – Wicked Force
KL Grayson – Crazy Imperfect Love
Laura Kaye – Worth Fighting For
Monica Murphy – Nothing Without You
Thinking About You Page 19