by Bromberg, K.
“Yes.” I release a shaky breath, my heart pounding.
“Good, because, Ry, I want to be your first, your last, and every fucking thing in between.” He emphasizes each word as if it almost pains him to say them.
My heart squeezes because the hopes and dreams I’ve wished for us are now a possibility, but before I can truly grasp the reality of this, he leans back and looks into my eyes. He stares at me with such intensity, that it’s like he’s seeing me for the first time, and then he asks me a question that I wasn’t expecting. “Why do you love me, Rylee?”
I jostle my head and look back at him, so many things passing through my mind that I can’t get the words out, so I just laugh. He looks at me oddly, and I take advantage of the break to catch him off guard and grab the back of his neck to pull him down to me.
My lips are on his in a heartbeat, my tongue slipping between his parted lips and melding with his. I can feel his surprise in the tightening of his lips, but it dissipates in seconds as his hands reach out to mimic mine and tangle in my curls as we slip into the gentle tenderness of the kiss. I show him why I love him with the caress of my tongue, the satisfied moan in my throat, my unrequited need to always have more from him.
And although it’s not nearly enough for me, I pull back with his taste on my tongue and look him in the eyes. “I love you, Colton Donavan, for so many reasons.” I have to stop because emotion overwhelms me and I want him to see my eyes when I say this to him so that he knows with certainty why I feel how I feel.
“I love you for who you are, for everything you aren’t, for where you came from, and for where you want to go.” I let a soft smile play over my lips as I look at him, the man I love so much, and allow myself to feel everything that I’m telling him. “I love your little boy smirk hidden beneath your bad boy sneer. I love you because you’ve let me in, handed me your heart, trusted me with your secrets, and let me see the side of you that no one else has gotten to … you’ve let me be your first.” My voice breaks on the last words and tears pool in my eyes as I stare at him, overcome with emotion.
“I love that you have an affection for cotton candy and sexy-ass cars. I love this dimple right here...” I lean up and lay a kiss where it’s hiding “...and I love this right here,” I say, running my hand over the stubble on his face. “And I love these right here when you’re hovering over me, about to make love to me,” I say, squeezing his biceps as he flexes them for me and flashes me a smile. “But more than anything, I love what’s in here.” I lean forward and press a kiss to his chest where his heart thunders beneath my lips. I keep them pressed there momentarily before I look up at him beneath my eyelashes and finish the most important reason of all. “Because what’s in here, Colton, is pure and good and untouched and so incredibly beautiful it leaves me speechless, like it did today … like it is right now.”
He stares at me, muscle pulsing in his jaw as he tries to accept everything that I’ve just said to him. Our eyes are locked, our souls are bared, and our hearts are so accepting of everything the other is that we’re lost in our unspoken words.
Within a heartbeat he pulls me into him, wraps his arms around me, and holds on tight. “Fuck, I love you,” he says, his face is buried in the curve of my neck, and I can feel the unevenness of his heated breath as he tries to compose himself.
The desperation of his touch and in his words cements everything between us as we cling to each other.
“This is what I mean,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck, his mouth a whisper from my ear. “Tonight’s supposed to be about you—completely about you—and yet you just gave me so much that I can barely fucking breathe right now.”
He leans back and the emotion in his eyes is overpowering. Little boy, grown man, and rebellious rogue are all looking at me right now, all telling me they love me. He takes in a deep breath and forces a swallow.
“It’s impossible to be around you, Ry, and not be moved by you somehow, someway. You leave me tongue-tied and make my goddamn stomach twist in knots half the time.” He shakes his head and I smile at him, so touched by his compliments. He reaches out and moves a piece of hair from my face. “You loved me at my darkest,” he whispers, and steals my breath.
The stark reality of his words cause goose bumps to dance over my flesh and I’m speechless. His eyes glisten with moisture as he bites his bottom lip, before finding the words he needs to finish expressing himself.
“You loved me when I hated myself. When I pushed you away and tried to hurt you so that you couldn’t see … everything from my past. You accepted my fear and loved me because of it.” He shakes his head. “And then you grabbed my balls and told me non-negotiable.” We both laugh at his words, the levity of the comment allowing us to expel some of the pent up energy from this unexpectedly intense conversation.
“That still goes by the way,” I say to him with a smirk, and he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine.
“I …” He sighs. “Ry, you have given me so fucking much and today I just wanted to let you know that I get it. That I accept it now and feel it in return.” He shoves a hand through his hair and closes his eyes for a beat, followed by that shy smile I love returning to his lips.
He starts to speak and then stops to clear the emotion strangling his words before he looks back up and meets my eyes. “You gave me hope when I thought I was hopeless. You taught me that defiance is sexy as fuck, that curves are definitely my kryptonite, and that fuck blondes, because brunettes are way more fun.” I laugh, enjoying the return of my arrogant bad boy as he scrubs his hands over his face, the scratch of stubble grating through the air. “I’m fucking rambling here … not making much sense, so bear with me.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Colton,” I tell him as he leads me to a chaise lounge. I sit down and he leans on his knees, on the ground in front of me, his body between the V of my thighs, his hands holding onto my waist.
“Ry, I asked you why you love me, but what I really wanted was to tell you all the reasons I love you. It’s important for me to know you don’t doubt my feelings for you … because fuck, Ry, you’ve knocked me on my ass. You were the one thing I never wanted—never, ever expected in my life—and fuck if I can live without you now.” He laughs at his admission while my smile widens. “You test me and tempt me and make me look at the truths I don’t want to face and are stubborn as hell, but God, baby, I wouldn’t want you any other way. Wouldn’t want us any other way.” He places his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs caressing the hollow between my collarbones as he shakes his head and continues.
“I think I always knew you were so much more … but I knew I was in love with you the night of the Kids Now event … you stood in that garden and pushed me to take a chance … dared me to love you.” His voice breaks with the emotion from remembering that night.
“And then we had sex on Sex,” I add in with a laugh that earns me a sexy as hell groan from deep in his throat.
“Fuck, Ry, between stairwells and car hoods and cotton candy, I’ll never be able to escape thinking about you,” he drawls.
“That was my plan all along,” I tease with a smirk.
“Oh really? You’ve been playing me this whole time?”
“Uh-huh,” I say. “Hate the game and not the player, right?” I laugh. “Welcome to the big leagues, Ace.” The comment is off my tongue in a flash, and my sarcasm is rewarded by the grin I love spreading wide on his lips. He shakes his head, leans in to tease my lips with his, and surprises me by deepening the kiss. His tongue tempts and tantalizes me, desire coiling and need clenching every muscle south of my waist before he pulls back.
“See,” he whispers, “this is why I love you. It’s not the big things you do but the million fucking little things that you don’t even know you’re doing. It’s making me laugh because you know I’m uncomfortable talking about this kind of shit and being okay with it. It’s for making me see the world in a different light, like ice cream for
breakfast and pancakes for dinner type of light.” He shakes his head and looks down momentarily.
“And this is why I love you,” I tell him. “Because no matter how uncomfortable you are expressing yourself, you know I need to hear it and you’re trying … hell you knocked it out of the park today. It was—you are—perfect.”
“I’m so far from perfect, Ry” he says with a self-deprecating laugh.
I reach out and touch him, run my hand over the line of his jaw. “You’re my kind of perfect, Colton.”
He smiles softly at me, his eyes suddenly becoming so intense and serious. “No, I don’t think you get it, Ry, and I don’t know how else to say it …” He reaches out and cups my face again, holding my head with unsteady hands so that my eyes lock with his. “I want to be your motherfucking checkered flag, Rylee. Your pace car to lead you through tough times, your pit stop when you need a break, your start line, your finish line, your goddamn victory lane.”
His words have stolen mine and feed the need I’ve had since our first meeting. As much as I tried to fight the feeling that fateful night, I wanted to be his. Wanted so much more than a make-out session in a backstage hallway. I wanted the whole frickin’ race with him.
“Your trophy,” I muse with a soft smile, thinking back to our conversation the morning after our first time together, and I know he remembers, because he returns the same smiles back at me.
“No,” he whispers as he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. “You’re so much more than a trophy, Rylee. Trophies are inconsequential when all is said and done … but you? You could never be inconsequential.” I can feel his lips curve up to a smile.
“No, you and me together … that would make you mine,” I tell him with a smile of my own as I contribute a memorable moment from our past myself.
“Good one,” he concedes, leaning back with a devilish smirk on his handsome face. “My turn,” he says, licking his lips before his grin returns. “Is there anyone whose ass I have to kick before I can make it official?” he says with a laugh, his words challenging me to remember.
I shake my head, smiling as his fingers trail up my arms and his eyes dare me to recall my line. His touch is distracting, but I remember. I bat my eyelashes at him. “Make what official, Mr. Donavan?” I ask, and when I meet his eyes, I’m surprised by his intense gaze.
“This, Rylee.” He breathes. “Make this official,” he says.
I gasp, my hand flying up to cover my mouth as I look down at the sparkling engagement ring. I’m so thankful I’m sitting because the world is moving around me in a blur. All I can focus on is the brilliance of the man in front of me, asking to make my world complete. A world I never thought would exist for me.
I remind myself to breathe, even though I still can’t trust myself to form words properly, so I just stare at him, my body covered in goose bumps despite the warmth of his love pulsing through me. I stare at him through tear blurred eyes and nod subtly in shock. I don’t move my eyes from his, because I can see this moment means as much to him as it does to me.
“Make this official with me, Rylee,” he says, his voice certain but hands are unsteady. I love the fact that he’s nervous, that I mean so much to him that he’s worried I might say no.
“I told you once that if I couldn’t say the words, I’d do anything I could to prove to you how I feel about you. Well I can say the words now, baby. You showed me how. I love you.” His eyes hold mine but I can’t help but look down at that shy smile of his that owns my heart. “I love who you are and what you make me. I love that your spark has stopped the blur. That you wanted to race with me. That I don’t need the superheroes anymore because I need you instead.” He shakes his head slightly and nervously laughs before he begins again.
“Shit, we’ve already done the for better or worse part and the in sickness and health, so let’s do the ’til death do us part too. Make a life with me, Ryles. Start with me. End with me. Complete me. Be my one and only first. Be my goddamn victory lane and my fucking checkered flag because God knows I’ll be yours if you’ll let me. Marry me, Ry?”
Tears are coursing down both of our faces, and I’m so overwhelmed by the beauty of his words and the outpouring of his soul that I can’t speak, so I show him instead. I lean forward and press my lips to his, the taste of salt mingling on our lips as I pour myself into the kiss.
And then I start giggling as my lips are pressed against his, and emotions run rampant through me. I can’t help it. I lean back and dash away my tears as he looks at me.
“You’re killing me here, Ry…” His voice wavers, a mix of exasperation and anxiety. His eyes hold mine—beseeching, imploring, pleading—and I realize that I know the answer without a doubt, but never told him.
“Yes, Colton.” I say, my voice escalating with excitement as more tears form. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Thank Christ!” He sighs and shakes his head, total adoration in his eyes as he looks at me. My eyes are still locked with his, but his hand reaches out to take mine. He breaks our connection and looks down, drawing my eyes down to watch him slip the cushion cut canary diamond, framed by smaller diamonds, onto my ring finger.
We’re silent as we stare at it, the enormity of the moment hitting us. The ring is beautiful and huge but a simple gold band would have done the trick, because when I look up, there’s my real prize. Dark hair, green eyes, stubbled jaw, and a heart that owns me: mind, body, and soul.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too,” he says and presses a kiss to my lips and then throws his head back and laughs before yelling at the top of his lungs, “She said yes!”
I’m startled by his shout, but then I understand when I hear a roar of cheers and rush to the edge of the terrace. When I look down I’m shocked to see everyone looking up at us from the patio below. Everyone from today, including both sets of our parents.
They’re all cheering and whistling and all I can do is shake my head and accept their happiness. I wave at them all, holding my hand out to show off my ring and celebrate with them.
I look over at Colton and the emotions swallow me whole. I love him with all my heart. No questions. No doubts. No fears.
“Hey, Ryles,” he says, pulling me into him. “If they’re gonna stare …” He raises an eyebrow and smiles when he sees the ring on my left hand resting on his bicep.
I throw my head back and laugh before completing the line for him. “Might as well give them something good to stare at.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Fuck, I love you, soon-to-be-Mrs. Donavan,” he drawls out, chills dancing on my spine and a smile spreading on my lips, as he leans forward and kisses me.
The cheers rise to a riotous level down below, but all I hear is Colton’s soft groan. All I feel is every place our bodies are touching. All I know is that the warmth spreading inside of me, taking hold, is finding permanence.
Everything else fades away.
The crowd below.
The world beyond.
Because I have everything I need right here in my arms.
The one thing neither of us ever wanted turned out to be the one thing we don’t ever want to live without.
Each other.
Mother’s Day Post
FUCKING RYLEE.
I adjust myself some, morning wood flying full fucking staff, as I sit down on the foot of the bed and stare at her. Tanned skin against white sheets. She’s on her side, the fabric is resting across her abdomen and is pinned between her thighs—right where I desperately want to be. My eyes devour her perfect tits—nipples pink and tight—then make the logical descent down to that sweet fucking V of her legs. Fucking perfection.
Nothing but sheets? Not anymore…more like nothing but Rylee.
Skin, sweat, and hot fucking damn.
I shake my head and fight my grin. The one that says how in the fuck did I get to the point where one woman and a lack of designer-ass sheets would make me happy as fuck?
I don’t know and I don’t care because hell if I don’t want her right now. But having sex with her—waking her up by licking my way between her thighs until her hands are fisted in my hair and my name is a goddamn scream on her lips, would only take a little bit of the sting away of today’s significance. The question is, what exactly can I do, can I say to make it right for her? Ease the pain in her heart and soul?
And then I see her diamond glint from the sun’s rays. Sparkles of light around the room…of the one thing signifying the only thing that matters anymore, us. The one that says she’s mine. It still punches the air from my lungs when I think about it, about the vows I’ll be making in a few months. How this selfless saint can love an irredeemable sinner like me. But fuck if I’m going to question it anymore. I’m balls deep already, I might as well go all in.
I reach out to touch her, touch that spot on her hip, her mark telling me that we—us—are permanent. I don’t want to wake her up, but I can’t fight it anymore.
Never can when it comes to her.
I crawl my way up her body, and begin tugging on the sheet, sliding it softly from between her thighs. The friction just enough to draw that sigh from her that turns me rock hard faster than fuck. A soft moan falls from those bee-stung lips of hers as I run the sheet back and forth until her eyes startle awake and her breath hitches.
She looks at me, sleep-drugged violet irises locked to mine and a sluggish smile tugs up one of the corners of her mouth. My God. Fucking Kryptonite.
“Hey,” she murmurs, her body stretching against mine. She turns onto her back, the sheet falling completely off of her now—her heat, my heaven and every fucking inch in between on display.
“Good morning.” And that’s all I can say. Tongue gets fucking tied in my mouth as I stare at her, the pang I wanted to ease from her, hitting me out of the blue. And fuck, the unexpected punch of emotion swamps me momentarily. I know she sees it, can see her eyes widen, register the look on my face, the occasion we’d planned on avoiding mentioning today.