by Roni Loren
“I meant what I said, too.”
He guided her arms around his waist and filled the space in front of her, his body heat radiating against her. “Good. Because one day, when you’re ready”—he leaned down to kiss her gently—“I’m going to marry the hell out of you, Andi Lockley.”
The words cascaded through her, filling her up to the brim. Her gaze jumped up to his. His brown eyes held her stare, saying everything she could ever want to feel from him. Sincerity. Love. Honesty. Forever.
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely.” He pushed her bangs away from her eyes and cupped the back of her neck. “With your permission, of course.”
A crazy thought snaked its way through her, whispering, daring her. “And what if I’m ready now?”
He didn’t flinch. “Then I’d marry you now.”
His lack of hesitation stole her breath, and an overwhelming sense of rightness flooded her. I’d marry you now. Now. “You’re serious.”
“I’m serious,” he said, voice calm as ever. “But there’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere. I just want you to know my intentions.” He kissed her again and gave her a small smile. “I’m done for. You’re it for me, neighbor. Ruined for all others.”
Her throat tightened, emotion knotting there. “You’re it for me, too.” She took in the sight of him, letting herself feel exactly what she was feeling and not overthinking it. “So if I’m it for you and you’re it for me, what exactly are we waiting for? What if you and I…”
“What if you and me, what?” he asked softly when she didn’t continue.
“What if we did that?” she said, boldness making her spine straighten. “Got married. Like this weekend.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Like elope? Don’t you want all the pomp and circumstance with your friends and family there?”
Images flashed through her mind. Her parents inviting all their friends. Picking out bridesmaids’ dresses. Having her family dictate when and where things happened in order to stick with family tradition. Having to decide which state to have the wedding in. What food to serve. Which music to play.
None of that sounded appealing. She’d never been the little girl who dreamt of her future wedding. She’d been the little girl who imagined living in a real haunted house or meeting a vampire or solving a mystery in her neighborhood. And Hill had already been through wedding prep once before. Proposing, planning a wedding, only to have it all blow up in his face.
“I don’t need all that unless you want it,” she said, her heart picking up speed. “We can elope. We can do it in City Park under the oaks. Invite a few of our friends to witness and just do it.” She slid her hands up his chest and looped her arms around his neck. “I don’t need pomp and circumstance. All I need is you.”
Hill’s eyes sparkled in the low light of the living room, and he cradled her face in his hands. “I would love nothing more in this world than to be your husband.”
The words sang through her like the best song she’d ever heard.
“Wish granted,” she whispered, and that was the last thing she got out before Hill lowered his head and kissed her against the door until her knees went to jelly beneath her.
Somehow over the next few minutes, they made it to their bedroom, kissing along the way, without tripping over furniture. Items of clothing got dropped behind them like bread crumbs and no more words were needed. They were getting married. Married.
Andi had spent a long time not trusting her gut, not believing it when it gave her the green light on things. That intuition had let her down a long time ago. But in this moment, she’d never felt more certain of any decision in her life. The feeling deep in the pit of her stomach, at the very core of her, was like the clear ring of a bell on a quiet night resonating through her. What she’d thought was her gut feeling all those years ago when she’d trusted Evan Longdale hadn’t been this, hadn’t felt like this. This was what gut-level knowing really felt like. Her gut hadn’t lied to her back then. She’d simply been outmatched—an innocent child who was victimized by a master manipulator.
As she and Hill stepped through the doorway into the bedroom, she let go of that old story, freeing that ghost who’d haunted her for so long. And silently she whispered to that little girl, I’m sorry. None of it was your fault. But you’re going to be okay.
Andi walked backward into the bedroom, letting Hill unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. Yes. She was definitely going to be okay.
By the time Hill tumbled Andi onto the bed, she was fully naked against the dark-green comforter, her thoughts zeroing in on the man in front of her and her body buzzing with arousal. Hill flicked on a lamp, and she watched him watch her as he finished undressing.
She loved the privilege of seeing him completely bared. Exposing himself like that to her had once been so hard for him. He’d perceived his disability as a weakness, as something to hide. Even after they’d gotten together officially, it had still taken him a month before he let her see him in the wheelchair he sometimes used when his leg was aching too much from the prosthesis.
But now, now he trusted her to see every private part of him, body and soul. It was a gift she didn’t receive lightly. She only wished that he could see what she saw when she looked at him. Strong shoulders, beautiful body, soulful face, a thousand places she wanted to kiss and touch and taste. Every bit of him turned her on.
Hill gave her a sly smile as he sat on the edge of the bed and removed his prosthesis. “I love how you look at me.”
“Like I want to eat you?” she guessed.
He laughed and stretched out next to her, sliding his big hand over her belly. “Something like that.” His hand drifted down between her legs, his fingers finding her slick and ready. “The feeling’s mutual.”
She bit her lip and hummed her approval as he dipped a finger inside her, the sensation of his callused finger sending tingling awareness radiating through her. He was always so focused and precise when it came to her pleasure, like a musician learning every nuance of an instrument. What will this do? What sound will this elicit? What music will this make? He’d also helped her unwind the knotted emotions she’d had about sweet sex, about romantic words in bed. She could enjoy the full range of options now because she trusted Hill without reservation. Romance was no longer a weapon of mass destruction in her world. Slowly, patiently, he’d shown her how good things could be—one sexy experiment at a time. She was more than happy to be his subject of study.
In fact, she was conducting her own experiments as well—a thesis on what made her sexy, quiet man lose all that artful calm. Even after more than a year together, she was still discovering new tricks and ways to drive him crazy. As he teased her, ramping up her arousal, she reached out and wrapped her hand around the smooth, velvet length of his cock, unable to go another second without touching him. She stroked him slowly, loving how thick and hot he felt in her hand, and he let out a soft gasp when she circled her thumb along his slit, spreading the fluid there.
Hill slipped another finger inside her and kissed along her neck as she continued to stroke him. She closed her eyes, relishing the lazy luxury of not having to rush. They could tease each other all night if they wanted. They had nowhere to go, nowhere to be, no pretenses to cling to. This bed was theirs. She could sleep next to him now. Wherever the finish line landed, they’d end up curled together under the covers tonight. This was their life now.
They’d earned this.
So they were damn sure going to enjoy it.
The ceiling fan above her whirled softly on low, sending a cool breeze over her hot skin as Hill continued to dip his fingers into her, his thumb finding her clit and his mouth finding her breast. Her hips rocked in rhythm against him, and she let herself explore him blindly with her hand—cupping him, teasing him, wrapping her fingers around his cock and then backing off when she sensed he
was getting too close to the edge.
He did the same for her, bringing her to the brink and then easing her back down, until she was so wound up that her heels were pressing into the mattress and her back was arched. Begging words started to fall past her lips without her permission. She’d wanted to prove she could wait, prove she could be patient, but Hill was playing dirty.
He usually did.
“Please.” Her hand slid off him, her brain no longer able to multitask. “Please.”
He moved his fingers more quickly, his thumb working her sensitive flesh, giving her more pressure. Then, he was shifting on the bed and the blissful wet heat of his mouth landed on the spot where his thumb had been. She cried out, the shock of contact so delicious and overwhelming that she nearly launched herself off the bed. But Hill put a hand on her thigh and held her in place.
Mine, the action whispered.
He gave her pleasure with the focus of a man who had one mission in life, and before she could beg him again, her orgasm crashed through her like the crescendo of a symphony—all cymbals and screaming violins and rumbling drums. She cried out in panting, gulping sounds as she rode the wave of sensation. All thought blinked out of her mind, leaving only clenching muscles and heat and bliss behind.
She grappled for Hill, her fingers digging into the thick muscles of his shoulders. “Need you,” she gasped. “Now.”
She didn’t have to beg this time. Hill quickly shifted on the bed, positioning himself above her and sliding deep, her orgasm still coursing through her. The feel of his cock, like heated steel inside her, was everything she needed in that moment. Her body tightened around him, the pressure and fullness ramping up her orgasm further. Hill murmured unintelligible words and began to rock into her with slow, grinding thrusts.
She’d learned the man had staying power, but right now, she wanted to feel him go over along with her. They’d ditched condoms after she’d gotten on the pill, and she loved the feeling of him coming inside her, the heat of his release, the sounds he made when it happened. She lived for that moment they were both lost to each other and riding the same high.
She dug her nails into his back, sweat glazing both of their bodies, and she kissed him. Hill groaned into her mouth with a primal sound and picked up his pace. The controlled, measured man was letting go. He buried deep and whispered her name, and then they were both launched into the stratosphere together. Clinging to each other, loving each other, promising each other.
Joined. For now. And soon, for always.
Afterward, both of them ended up splayed on their backs on the bed, wrung out and sated, and Andi couldn’t stop smiling. “I feel like I owe you brownies or something.”
Hill laughed and laced his fingers with hers. “That’s how we got into this mess. You brought me baked goods. I never had a chance.”
She pulled his hand up and kissed his knuckles. “I’m glad you opened the door to your pushy neighbor.”
He rolled onto his side and looked down at her. “Best decision I ever made. Even if the brownies were terrible.”
She gasped. “They were not, you food snob.”
He grinned and kissed her. “I still ate every one of them because you had made them.”
She harrumphed, playfully affronted, and he kissed her again. And somehow even though she’d thought she’d been totally spent a few minutes ago, she ended up on top of him and round two began.
She’d never get enough of this man.
Later, when they were finally settled beneath the covers, exhausted and cuddled up naked against each other, Hill tucked her backside against his body. She snuggled into his warmth. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He pressed his face into her hair, his beard tickling her neck as he let out a soft sigh. “God. I can’t believe I get to keep you.”
Andi closed her eyes, a contented calmness she’d searched for her entire life coming over her. She’d never felt so loved.
So safe.
And when Hill fell asleep next to her, his arm draped over her, she didn’t get a flashback to a night so long ago when she was trapped beneath another man’s arm. In fact, she didn’t think about the past at all.
All she could see was the bright, beautiful future.
Acknowledgments
Getting a book out into the world takes a lot of effort in a normal year, but writing, editing, and polishing a book during the upheaval of 2020 takes a special kind of dedication. Luckily, I have been blessed with a great team of people (and my family) in my corner to help make that happen.
To Mary Altman, my editor, who didn’t panic when, after already having written a big chunk of the book, I told her I’d like to change a major aspect of my hero and would need more time. Thank you! Now I can’t imagine Hill any other way.
To the whole Sourcebooks team, including Christa, Stefani, Rachel, and Jessica, your dedication and enthusiasm are top-notch. I know my books are in great hands!
To Sara Megibow, my agent, who has had my back for ten years. Happy author/agent anniversary!
To Dawn Alexander, my dearest friend and a badass brainstormer, who keeps me laughing even when I’m in the pit of writer’s block.
To my parents, who are way cooler than I’ll ever be. I love you.
To my readers, thank you for picking up my books even when I can’t seem to stay in one place genre-wise. I am grateful to each and every one of you. Every. Single. Time.
And finally, to Donnie and Marshall, my rock stars. I wouldn’t want to be quarantined with anyone else. Love you. Love you. Love you.
About the Author
Roni Loren wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. She holds a master’s degree in social work and spent years as a mental health counselor, but now she writes full time from her cozy office in Dallas, Texas, where she puts her characters on the therapy couch instead. She is a two-time RITA Award winner and a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Visit her online at roniloren.com.
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For more info about Sourcebooks’s books and authors, visit:
sourcebooks.com
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