Gahhh…Heart expanding. Must. Relieve. Pressure. Must open it. “Marry me!”
Henry jerks back his head and blinks at me. “Sorry?”
“Marry me.”
“Errr…you feeling okay, Elle?”
“Yes. Very okay. My brain did the computation, and you are my ideal match. Out of seven point five billion people on the planet, there is no one who has ever made me feel like this, and the probability of finding a man who is more handsome, fit, or intelligent than you, who also has an abundantly sized penis and healthy-sized ego—but not completely overbearing—who genuinely cares about me and will give me really strong swimmers when I’m ready; and who will also be able to lift me when I’m eighty because I have a fifty-two-point-seven chance of falling and breaking a hip; and who will also likely still be alive when I’m eighty because he exercises more than one hour a day; and—”
“Elle, enough already.”
“And…” I hold up a finger, “who will do anything to make sure I’m okay.” I poke his chest. “You are literally one in seven point five billion, Henry. I can’t afford to let you go,” I say, staring into his eyes, trying to make him see that I’m anything but joking. “Oh, and I was once a clown and traveled with the circus. But that was a long time ago. Totally over.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I love you. Will you please put aside the fact that we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, most of it having wild fantastic sex, and that I’m a woman—therefore breaking the proposal rules—and agree to be my husband? We don’t need to marry today—we’re young. But I need you to know I’m committed.” I take his hand and hold it up to my mouth. “Please, Henry, if there’s any doubt in your mind, then trust your heart. And if that still doesn’t get you there, then trust me.” I draw a quick breath. “Because I’m really fucking smart. Which is why I listened to you. We do work.”
He blinks for ten long seconds, and I can see his wheels turning. He has to realize that he was the one who saw it first. He told me we worked. I just hadn’t been ready to see it.
A slow, seductive smile creeps across his face. “Would you object to getting married at a football game? I always thought that looked cool.”
I’m not sure if he’s joking, but I don’t really care. “So you’re talking tailgate party instead of a reception?”
“That’s a great idea.” He laughs and kisses me. I feel this warm vibe encircle my entire body, and my mind—without my asking—tells me that this is what happens when people find true love. Their entire beings vibrate on the same frequency. They sync up. They go from being two separate organisms floating in the sea of life, to being two united forms rowing in one boat.
I break our kiss. “You really want a football wedding?”
“You were really in the circus?”
I tilt my head and shrug. “Yeah.”
“That’s so hot.” He lunges for my lips. “Please tell me you can juggle.”
I want to cry. Literally fucking cry. He gets me.
Panting for him without realizing it, I say, “Take me back to bed, Henry. Make love to me this time.”
His smile fades. The emotion is palpable, charging the air around us. “I love you, Elle,” he whispers.
“I know that now. And you’ll never have to prove it to me again. For as long as I live, Henry.” I brush my hand over the side of his head, feeling the silky golden strands between my fingers. “But I will spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to prove my love to you.”
HENRY
Never in a million years had I expected today to turn out like this. I’d hoped that Elle might accept my apologies for my outburst at the game last weekend, the best outcome involving us shaking hands and agreeing to meet again.
But Elle, true to her eccentric nature, got the truth out of me and then proposed marriage. Not exactly how I’d envisioned it happening for me.
Hey, gotta respect a woman who knows what she wants. Still, I can’t help but feel concerned for her.
Do I want her? Hell yes.
Do I want her for the rest of my life? Hell to the yes.
Do I want her anywhere near my emotional Chernobyl of a family? Ohellno. Not when she’s got so many other things to worry about.
“What’s the matter, Henry?” she says as I lay my naked body between her thighs, my mind whirling with a million thoughts. I’ve never made love to a woman. I’ve fucked, screwed, and nailed. Not once have I ever done this.
Oh hell. My knees are shaking.
I smile. “You’ve got me all nervous.”
“Do I now?” She kisses me, sweeping her tongue over my bottom lip.
It’s not easy for me to say how I feel. I am used to hiding my emotions—in front of family, on the field, and certainly when in the public eye at family events. Stiff upper lip, charming smile, nice words—any of those I can do. But talking about my feelings? That’s not my thing.
I will have to show her how I feel.
ELLE
Henry’s strong, hard body blankets mine, and I couldn’t be more turned on in this moment. He’s all heart, I’ve realized, and now his is pounding against my chest. He’s tense from head to toe, and his cock is harder than hell, the head nudging at my entrance.
I can tell that whatever’s happened between us just now changed things. There’s love between us and in what we’re about to do.
Staring into his eyes, I plant a gentle kiss on his sensual lips and rock my hips into him.
He answers with a slow kiss back and then trails his lips and scruff down the side of my neck, leaving behind deliciously warm tingles.
It feels so good that I hardly notice his shaft isn’t where I want it.
He kisses his way down to my breasts and cups the left one in his rough hand while his tongue circles my taut nipple on the right. I know he’s kissed my breasts before. I know he’s kissed every inch of my body, but this is the first time I feel like he’s tapped into my erogenous superhighway.
He begins sucking on my nipple, and the sensation tugs at my g-spot. My entire core begins to throb and ache for him, making me wetter than I’ve ever been.
How does he do that?
I cup the back of his head, digging my fingertips into his soft, dirty blond hair, my body squirming involuntarily.
He switches sides and begins sucking on the other nipple while sliding his hand down, over my waist and hip and then between my legs.
I gasp the moment his thick finger channels between the folds and finds my entrance.
“Mmmm…you’re so wet,” he says.
“All for you,” I whisper.
He thrusts his fingers into me, and I buck.
“Oh God,” he says, “you feel so warm and silky.” His mouth moves down lower, and I feel his tongue sliding over my c-spot. He doesn’t need to do this because I’m ready to burst and craving the kind of orgasm I can only get from his thick shaft pushing my limits. But it feels so good, I’m unable to stop him. Or speak. Or think or—
He starts sucking my clit and thrusting deep with those fingers, triggering an explosion of euphoria. My body tenses as the waves of wonderful contractions pound through my core and radiate outward.
“Fuck, fuck.” I grab fists full of blanket and my head whips from side to side while his mouth and tongue and fingers literally rip the orgasm right out of this space so deep inside me that it feels like it comes from a different plane of existence.
After several long moments, the contractions melt away, leaving me limp and breathless. “Wow,” I pant.
Henry wipes his mouth on my inner thigh, scratching me with his whiskers. I don’t even care. I don’t want to move. This feeling is just too good.
Henry moves over me, spreading my thighs with his large legs and planting his hands to the sides of my head. He takes no time positioning his cock and thrusts deep. I’m wet and relaxed, but my bud is sensitive. His shaft feels harder, thicker, and longer than ever because I can feel every inch o
f his dick inside me, sliding and thrusting.
I realize he’s fucking me bare, and it ignites me all over again. The scorching arousal deep inside is almost agonizing as he stares at me with those sexy green eyes and pumps his hips. I open my legs wider, wanting him deeper, and run my hands behind him to cup his hard ass. I love how it feels as those smooth round muscles are flexing beneath my palms. I love the feel of his balls slamming against me. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right.
Henry begins moving faster, hammering his thick cock into me over and over again. I’m so close to coming, but I want to wait. I want to come as he ejaculates inside me.
He lowers his head and kisses me hard and then pushes the force of his body into me. His entire body tenses, and he lets out a deep, animalist groan that does me in. I let go and melt into him, feeling the tip of his cock pressing into my womb, the base of him putting the right amount of pressure on my throbbing bud. The orgasm tears through me, gripping me with hard waves of wicked pulses. I moan and pant, but I want to scream. The orgasm is tortuously good, lighting up every muscle with hot spasms.
As I’m coming, he makes small little thrusts with his cock, flooding me with the silky heat of his cum. I open myself wider for him, never wanting the moment to end. Being with him like this is like a drug, and I know I’ll never tire of it.
Several moments pass, and I feel his body relax, but he stays inside me, propping his body on his elbows. Still, he’s heavy and I love it.
“That was amazing.” He plants a lingering kiss on my neck.
“I have no words,” I pant.
“That’s a first.”
“Just rest. Because I need you to do that again as quickly as possible.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
ELLE
Henry and I spend the next few hours making love, eating, and hydrating. He’s insatiable in the sack and I can’t help thinking that it’s because he’s got all of this pent-up emotion inside him. Either way, these were the best three hours of my life. I can’t remember feeling so happy or satisfied or euphoric.
No, I’m not so worried about getting pregnant because the probability is low at this particular point in my cycle, but I do note that I need to get on the pill quickly. I don’t ever want to go back to just screwing Henry. I want every time with him to be like this. Close. Intimate. And deliciously raw.
Speaking of raw…
“Wow. You really rode me hard.” I chuckle, lying next to him with my head on his bare chest. He’s well-endowed, so it’s probably going to take a day or two for me to recover.
“I was making up for lost time,” he says with a tinge of seriousness in his voice.
I lift my head and look at him. “What’s the matter?” He has to know there’s a way to fix this deal he’s made with his father. I’ve already come up with several solutions, but the first and most obvious step is to go and see the man. I’m not afraid of him. And despite what Henry’s said, I have to believe the guy loves his son. This leverage move—using my mother to get Henry to give up his dream of the NFL—was merely an opportunity to get what he wanted. But I find it difficult to believe that Henry’s father really would’ve let my mother just die like that. No, it was a game of chicken and Henry flinched. At least, that’s what I want to believe.
“I’m worried for you,” he says.
“Why me?” I run my hand over the side of my Henry’s head, dragging my fingernails through the soft strands. I love his messy, unkempt hair. It’s just too sexy.
“If you marry me, they’ll try to control you, Elle. They’ve done it with my sisters and my new brother-in-law.”
“How?” I ask.
“Chewy, my older sister’s new husband, is from Nigeria. His parents are schoolteachers, so my father offered to build two new wells and a school in their village so there’s room for more children.”
“That actually sounds kind of generous of your dad,” I point out.
“My brother-in-law thought so, too, but running the school and hiring more teachers requires money. Guarding the village requires money. So my father told my sister Michelle that the funding would be there as long as they needed it if she took over Claire’s role in the company next year.”
“I’m not following?”
“Claire’s my older sister. She’s been running the charities and public relations side for four years, but he wants her to take over some of the expansions outside of the oil business. He needs someone to take Claire’s spot.”
I give Henry’s words some thought. “Honestly, it sounds to me like your father trusts you guys and just wants you running things. I’m not sure it’s entirely evil of him.”
“Oh, that part isn’t evil, but it’s the hard ultimatums he gives us. ‘Do as I ask, or you’ll be cut off. From all of us.’”
“Oh.” I see now. He uses their love against them. “That’s not very nice.”
“No,” Henry agrees. “It’s not. And my mother is just like my dad, which is why you need to stay far, far away from them. They always start out seeming charitable, but they’re really ruthless, bloodthirsty sharks. They use money to control everyone.”
Walking away and telling them to shove their money is an option for Henry and his siblings, of course, but if they’re threatened with losing their family, too? That’s a bit harsh. Add to that, making the money about something that’s bigger than only one person—like clean water and schools for a poor village in Nigeria—it would take a very heartless person to walk away from that.
“It’s kind of sad, Henry.”
“What?”
“I think that if your parents didn’t force all of you to be their little minions, you’d probably want to work for them. You, for example. Were you planning to play football forever?”
“No. I really just want to play as long as my body will let me, but that isn’t very long.”
“See. The blackmail is completely unnecessary. And you know, I’ve reviewed over three hundred case studies on companies and their psychological underpinnings. Ultimately, their longevity and success is tied to the culture. And culture, of course, is really just another way of saying that a group of people have collectively agreed on how they feel about something—whether it’s good or bad, a positive force in their lives or a negative one. From there, the behavioral norms and rules are established, including systems of reward and hierarchy. It’s all very fascinating. But at the end of the day, running a company is astoundingly simple. You hire capable people and then you work to raise them up as high as they can go. But the moment you use threats and blackmail to control people, you’ve created a prison.”
Henry gives me a strange look. “I thought you were a physics major.”
“I am a woman of many interests, Henry. I’ve read over three thousand textbooks, lectures, and case studies in the areas of business, psychology, art, history, computer science, agriculture, and biology. Oh, and I know just about everything there is to know about making Twinkies—it was a phase when I was eight. But I’ve taken over eighty online classes and have completed the work of about thirty degrees.”
“So why don’t you have any?”
I shrug. “I find the pace of a classroom much too slow since the rate I can process information is fairly robust.”
“Jesus, I didn’t know dating a human computer could be so hot. You got a laptop handy, ’cause I think I’d like to have a three-way.”
“Ha!” I slap his arm. “Funny.”
“Oh, no. I’m not joking.” He rolls me onto my back and pins me down. “Talk nerdy to me, baby. Do some math out loud.” He kisses me.
“Stop it,” I giggle. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Nope. I’m just your fan. Especially now that I know I’ll never have to Google again, I think I will definitely agree to be your husband. But on one condition.”
“Are you discarding the football wedding?” I ask.
“No. That stands. So make it two conditions.”
“What?”
“When the time comes, we only invite our closest friends—okay. And your family, too, I suppose.”
Ah. Meaning, he doesn’t want his parents there.
“I am not afraid of your parents, Henry.” I’m sure there’s a reason for how he feels, but his father sounds like your stereotypical power monger. They are driven by fear—fear of losing, fear of being unimportant, fear of being powerless. I know exactly how to crack that kind of coconut. You appeal to their need for control. And if that doesn’t work, maybe I can win him over with some juggling.
“You should be afraid, Elle,” Henry says. “Which is why I’m going to do everything in my power to keep them away from you.”
Oh, boy. Then you’re really going to be pissed after I go visit your dad Monday morning. But there is no way in hell I’m letting Henry give up his dream without a fight. Besides, I think I owe this man, Henry’s father, a thank-you for everything he’s done for my mother, and it’s the perfect excuse to pay him a visit.
Still pinned beneath Henry, I lift my head and peck his lips. “Two plus two is four. Four plus four is eight. Eight plus—”
“Oh, Elle…” He starts nuzzling my neck. “Don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop.”
After a quick dinner—Chinese takeout since we were both tired—Henry dropped me off at the hospital so I could check on my mother once more and get my car before heading home to feed Mr. Nucleus, II. Henry gave me the longest, most passionate kiss in the car I’d ever had. And if it weren’t for two very important people I needed to worry about—him and my mother—I could’ve stayed there all night, enjoying the fullness of his lips, the roughness of his jawline, and the feel of his enormous arms wrapped around me.
I wished him luck at his game in Indiana tomorrow and told him I’d be there cheering in spirit. I then went up to my mother’s room to find that my father had gone home to shower and change. My sister, Lana, was there reading Cat in the Hat aloud. It was a tip I’d read in a study that reading something that one can associate with positive memories helps boost happy brain waves.
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