by Ava Branson
He took a step back, holding my hands out as he did. For the first time, his eyes swept me up and down. “You’re already wearing white.” He fingered my robe. “Where can we get married on this island?”
“Well, there are plenty of places—”
“Tonight,” he clarified.
I gave a short laugh. “Um…probably not tonight.”
“Tomorrow then?”
It felt so good to laugh again. To be with him. To love him. “Do you…love me?” I asked haltingly, feeling foolish to need to hear the words.
He gave me an are you kidding look. “Well, for starters, I’ve never asked someone to marry me before. That would lead one to think there is serious like going on. Two, I’ve never been this torn up, this...consumed with anyone before in my life. So that must mean serious, serious like.” Something flickered to life in his eyes. “And I’ve never, ever,” he took a step closer with each word, “ever wanted a woman more in my entire, fucking, miserable life.” His expression grew somber. “I love you, Michaela Dawson. Always have. Always will. With a depth that will live on beyond my body.”
My heart stood still and I willed the room, the world, the universe to stop so I could relive those words over and over and over again without anything jarring me back to reality.
He moved closer until he could reach me. Dipping his head, he brushed his lips across mine with a gentleness that seemed other-worldly. “But there’s one problem,” he breathed against my mouth.
I looked at him, begging him with my eyes to not rip out the hope he’d just planted in my heart. “What problem?”
“If we can’t get married before tomorrow, anywhere on this island or in this state, what the hell are we going to do in the meantime?”
The sparkle in his eyes told me he knew full well what we could do in the meantime. “I took a lovely hot soak in my bathtub earlier tonight.”
His face darkened. “Oh? Is that right?”
“Mm hmm. I feel squeaky clean.” I pretended to look down at the tie on my robe in complete and total fascination. Toying with the ends of the belt, I wiggled a finger through the knot at my waist, tugging it a little loose. “Yes, it was nice, but a little…lonely. It’s such a big tub, after all, and—”
He growled, pushing my hands away from the tie and used it to pull me closer. “You’re taking entirely too long.” With two swift twists, he had the belt undone and let the robe fall open of its own accord. He sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll never get enough of you.” He put a finger under my chin and lifted my face. “Can you live with that?”
“I’ll try. I really will.” I tried to tease, but he cut me off with the most carnal kiss I’d ever experienced. It made me wet, hot, and needy. Pushing him away to breathe, I gasped, “We need to—”
“Yes, we do.” He swung me up into his arms, one half of the robe falling completely away. His hot gaze swept what he could see of me. When he looked back, there was a hunger in his eyes that stole my breath, my heart. My mind. My soul.
I would finally be able to bury the past, and the future held nothing but love.
The End
Other Books by Ava Branson
Adult Contemporary Romance
Rough Seas
Fiery Seas
Sapphire Seas
Sensuous Seas
Tempestuous Seas
The Project
http://tinyurl.com/mob6x74
Intimate Inspection
http://tinyurl.com/p5u4pyo
Erotica
On a Dare
http://tinyurl.com/p5qpxts
About the Author
Ava Branson is a native Floridian, born and raised. She grew up in a boating family on the Atlantic coast and had sand between her toes from birth. A ten year span spent living in Colorado taught her a love and appreciation of the mountains, but the ocean called her back home and Florida is where she settled, raising two children and any number of cats.
When she’s not writing (which is rare) she’s thinking of stories to write (which is always) and just hopes to be able to share a fraction of the countless romances she has dreamed up with readers.
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