by Anthology
Declan was tired. A little grumpy. When the plane touched ground, he’d been ready to leap out of it while it was still moving, he was that anxious to be home. But they’d taxied the runway for what felt like hours, sitting in that damn giant tin can while they waited for a gate to open so the plane could disembark.
Talk about frustrating. He just wanted to get home.
Get to Reagan.
He’d come to a few realizations while he was away filming the movie that would most likely end up being one of those huge blockbusters that made everyone a bunch of money and tied all the actors to too many sequels. Not that he was complaining, no. It was a mega paycheck, one that made him feel secure for the rest of his fucking life, and he loved that. His future was financially set.
Now he wanted it to be emotionally set. And that was where Reagan came into play.
Sitting in the back of the hired car now, he stared out the window, the familiar landscape passing by him in a rush. He was close. Close to his house, close to Reagan, and he reached into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out the ring that he’d shoved in deep before he left his hotel room earlier. It had been burning a hole there ever since, reminding him of what he was about to do.
Like change his life forever.
The ring was simple. An unadorned platinum band and a two-carat, round-cut diamond. Flawless. Like his girl. If she had any flaws, he was mostly blind to them. Though it was more like they accepted each other’s flaws. Damn, he was lucky. He’d missed her so much. He wanted her in his life on a permanent basis and this was the best way to make it permanent between them.
By asking her to marry him.
He couldn’t even fathom her saying no. Just…it couldn’t happen. He didn’t think it would. She loved him. He loved her. It was that simple.
But those too-short days she came to see him while in Montreal, he’d told her she could quit her job and just travel with him everywhere. He’d meant it too. She didn’t need to work. He had enough money—more than enough money—to take care of them for life. She busted her ass at that job of hers, day in and day out. It was stressful, yet she seemed to love it. Most of the time. Sometimes it became particularly hard on her, and those were the moments he didn’t like. When he wanted to take care of her but couldn’t ease her stress or pain or fatigue. He felt hopeless and he hated that.
She’d laughed off his suggestion, looking at him like he was nuts, and maybe he was. But he was only watching out for her.
Within minutes, the car pulled off the freeway at his exit and Declan sat up straighter, bouncing his knee as nerves filled him. Now that the moment had arrived, he was anxious. Afraid he’d blurt out something stupid to her and ruin the moment.
You’re an actor, asshole. You know how to act smooth and put on the charm. But don’t be too smooth. Be real. Be you. Put your heart and soul into your words and tell your girl how much you love her and how badly you want her in your life. She can’t resist that. Probably won’t be able to resist that diamond ring you give her either.
He grimaced. Reagan wasn’t materialistic, not by a long shot.
Pulling out his cell phone, he sent her a quick text as they pulled into the driveway of his house, letting her know he’d arrived.
She replied quickly. I’m waiting for you just like you asked.
Declan smiled. He liked that she was waiting for him, that she wanted to please him. He felt the same way, always wanting to put her pleasure above everything else.
The driver helped him with his luggage, depositing it just inside the laundry room after Declan unlocked the back door. He gave the guy a tip and then bolted into the house, locking the door behind him as he made his way to the bedroom.
His house was eerily quiet. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the low hum coming from the various electronics. As he drew closer to his bedroom, he slowed his steps, letting the anticipation curl through him. She was there, just beyond the slightly opened door, hopefully tucked beneath the sheets bare-ass naked and wet between her thighs, just for him.
Rounding the corner, he stopped short in the doorway, his eyes going wide at the scene before him.
Reagan sat in the middle of the bed, leaning against a plump pile of pillows, wearing nothing but a scant pair of white lacy panties he could see right through. Her hair waved about her face, her full lips were slicked with a deep red color, and she wore the necklace he gave her, the diamond pendant nestled between her naked breasts.
“Welcome home,” she murmured, her voice reaching right into his chest and clutching hard around his heart.
Holy. Shit. She looked amazing. He couldn’t believe this gorgeous, sexy girl was his.
And hopefully she would agree to become officially his.
Chapter Ten
Reagan let her legs fall open so he could see everything she had, her bare feet pressed against the mattress. She wore a totally flimsy excuse for panties—they were so lacy and thin there was no point to them, and she’d spent top dollar because her man was worth it.
The look on her man’s face at seeing her was more than worth it too.
“I thought…” His gravelly voice drifted and he cleared his throat. “I thought I requested that you wait for me naked.”
She shrugged, feeling feisty. He liked it when she followed orders, but he also liked it when she showed a hint of defiance. “These panties are so tiny I am practically naked.”
He entered the room, stopping at the end of the bed. “You’re wearing the necklace.”
“I never really take it off.” She toyed with the diamond, her fingers brushing against her sensitive skin and her nipples tightening, causing her to suck in a deep breath. “Makes me think of you.”
“I’m always thinking of you, baby.” He propped one knee on the edge of the bed and her heart rate kicked up. He was so close. She could reach out and touch him. But she didn’t. Wanted to see what he had planned first. “Glad to hear you’re always thinking of me.”
“You look good,” she said, her gaze roaming all over him, from the top of his head down. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, so sexy in such simple clothing. He had the scruff going on as usual, his hair in disarray, though that had come with the part he played and she had a feeling he’d get it cut within the next few days.
Such a shame. She’d have to pull on it as much as possible while she could.
“You look fucking amazing,” he returned, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Spread your legs wider. I want to see your pretty pink pussy.”
She did as he asked, settling her hand on her belly so her fingertips brushed the edge of the flimsy waistband. His gaze flared with heat and he swallowed hard.
“Touch yourself. Show me how bad you missed me,” he said, his voice rough, his breathing ragged.
Air caught in her throat and she held her breath as she slipped her fingers low, tangling in her pubic hair, lingering there for a moment before she dipped lower, encountering nothing but wet, hot, slick skin. A whimper escaped her as she slid her fingers through her folds, back and forth, her thumb brushing her clit before she withdrew her hand and held it out to Declan like an offering.
He tore off his shirt and came toward her, gripping her wrist in his hand as he sucked her fingers into his mouth. She moaned at first touch of his tongue, at the way his heated gaze locked on hers. He slowly drew her fingers out of his mouth, his tongue sneaking out for one last lick before he murmured, “Fucking delicious.”
And then he was touching her again, kissing her, holding her face in his hands, his tongue spearing into her mouth and stroking hers. She wrapped her arms around him, sliding her hands down his back, her fingers breaching beyond the waistband of his jeans.
“You should take these off,” she whispered against his lips, making him smile.
“Not yet. Let me get you off first,” he said as he released his hold on her face to move down her body.
He rained kisses down the side of her neck, along her shoulders, her collarbone. Ling
ered over her breasts, licking down the valley between them, sucking on her nipples with long, heated pulls of his mouth that had her moaning his name. His mouth blazed a trail along her belly, his hands shredding the silly little panties she wore, making her gasp and laugh.
Well. Those were pointless.
And then he was nestled between her legs. His mouth right at the spot where she ached for him the most, dropping such simple, little kisses on her sex, they were almost chaste. Until his tongue came into play and he covered her pussy with long, slow licks of his tongue, concentrating on her clit, teasing it, drawing it between his lips just before he thrust a finger deep inside her.
Oh God, she loved it when he did that. When he sucked her clit and fucked her with his fingers. He knew it drove her crazy. She loved it so much and it had been so long since they’d been together, she was already primed beyond the point of control. She was going to come. She could feel the trembling start low in her belly, the familiar force building up inside of her. Closer…closer…
“Declan,” she moaned as the orgasm hit her hard. Her entire body shook with the force of it and she reached out blindly, clutching at his hair as he continued to lick and suck her straight into oblivion.
He moved up her still-shuddering body, dropping kisses along the way until he was snug beside her. His jeans brushed against her ass and legs, making her skin spark with electricity, and she kept her eyes tightly closed when he buried his nose in her hair, his arms coming around her waist as he held her tightly from behind.
“Open your eyes,” he urged, and she did, her mouth dropping open in shock when she saw what he held between his fingers.
A diamond ring.
Okay. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to ask Reagan to marry him, mere minutes after he brought her to a brain-numbing orgasm, but he couldn’t wait any longer. Just like he couldn’t wait any longer to have her, to watch her come undone, to feel her fall apart completely beneath his lips and hands. He’d been waiting for that moment for weeks.
And that brought them to this particular moment here, where she stared at the sparkling ring he held with a stupefied expression on her glowing face, her jaw working as if she couldn’t muster up the strength to say a word.
“Wh-what is that?” she finally asked, her voice shaky.
“What does it look like?” He settled his chin on her shoulder, twisting his hands this way and that so the diamond could catch the light. “Will you marry me?”
“Are you serious?”
He was almost offended, but he guessed he could give her a break, considering she was well and truly shocked. “I’m dead serious. I want you to be my wife. The time I spent away from you helped me realize just how important you’ve become to me.”
“You’re important to me too,” she said, her voice small, her ass brushing against his front, making his cock ache as it strained beneath his jeans.
“I love you.” He kissed her cheek. “I want you in my life forever. By my side. As my wife.”
“Oh.” That was all she said, and she didn’t move. For a minute there, he thought he’d totally blown it. He was, after all, the guy who just asked the woman he loved to marry him after thoroughly going down on her.
Slowly and while clutching the ring between his fingers, he turned her so she faced him, cupping her cheek so he could tilt her face up. Tears welled in her eyes and she smiled, blinking hard. “Are you crying?” he asked incredulously.
“I just think…I’m overwhelmed.” She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. “I didn’t expect it.”
“The ring?”
“The proposal, the ring, the necklace I’m wearing. It’s all so much.”
“Too much?” He arched a brow as worry coursed through him. What if she didn’t say yes? He’d fucking die if she denied him. Wasn’t sure if he could take it.
“No,” she said vehemently, shaking her head. “Nothing you do for me is ever too much.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said with a smile as he brought the ring between them. “So. Will you? Be my wife?”
She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving the ring. “Yes. Oh yes. I want that more than anything else in this world. I love you so much, Declan.”
“I love you too. Give me your hand.” She did as he asked and he held her trembling hand in his, sliding the ring on the proper finger. He smiled when he saw it was a perfect fit. “That diamond looks really good on your finger.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” She held up her hand, studying it, her face radiant and full of so much happiness his heart felt like it might explode.
“You’re going to look really good beside me for the rest of your life too. I hope you’re ready,” he said, sucking in a quick breath when she reached between them and started undoing his jeans.
“I’m definitely ready. I just hope you’re ready for me to rock your world right now,” she said with a grin, scooting down on the bed, her mouth on his belly, her hand down the front of his underwear and firm fingers gripping his cock.
Oh yeah. He was more than ready for that. Knew she’d be rocking his world for the rest of his days.
Guaranteed.
About Karen Erickson
USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson writes what she loves to read – sexy contemporary romance. Published since 2006, she’s a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She also writes as Monica Murphy.
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Perfectly Reckless
Megan Hart
Chapter One
"It shouldn't matter when I fell in love with you. Or how. All that matters is that I did." Even as Maura spoke, she knew her words wouldn't matter. She could see it in the cut of Ian's gaze from hers, the way he covered his mouth with his palm, the fingers curving over his cheek toward his ear. She knew nothing she said would make a difference, but she said it all anyway. "I am crazy in love with you, Ian. I didn't look for it, but there it is. And I don't regret it. Not a single second."
Maura paused, leaning forward across the table, smiling and hoping to urge him to return it. "Well. This part's not so great. But all the rest..."
He didn't smile, but he did look at her. At least he gave her that. "Maybe you shouldn't set yourself up to get disappointed."
Maura flinched, helpless against that blunt sting. Frowning, she warmed her hands on the mug of coffee that Ian had pushed toward her earlier. Sweet and black, exactly how she liked it. Because he knew just how much sugar she wanted, Maura thought. Because he knew everything about her.
There were plenty of words to give him, but if Ian knew her so well, Maura also understood him inside and out. He wasn't going to listen to her, no matter how pretty she made the words, how compelling her argument. She let her silence speak for her instead, and it stretched on and on until finally, Ian met her gaze.
"I can't seem to give you what you want," Ian said.
At that typical male bullshit excuse, that final slice that severed the already fragile thread of her patience with him, Maura stood. "Have you ever even asked me what I want?"
He had no answer for that.
She watched him struggle to find one for a few seconds before she leaned toward him again, both hands flat on the table. "No. Of course you haven't. You just assume you know. It's not that you can't give me what I want, Ian. It's that you don't want to give me anything."
"I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "No. You're not. You're scared. There's a difference."
That made him angry. "You're the one who always told me it wasn't going to last. This is not an exit, remember that?"
She remembered, all right. "I was wrong. I was scared, too."
"And now you'r
e not?"
"I'm terrified," she told him in a low voice. "But at least I'm willing to try. Can't you even give me that, Ian? Can't you even try?"
She'd always been able to read his expressions, but now whatever went on behind his eyes was masked with a blankness no less impenetrable because she knew he was forcing it. Ian turned his mug in his hands, around and around and around. This was not the man who'd once made her come in the backseat of his car without ever taking off her clothes. This was someone else. A stranger, and though her heart cracked, it didn't quite break.
"I think we shouldn't see each other again," he said.
No. That was not what she'd come here for today. Not the reason she'd lined her eyes and mouth and scented her skin and curled her hair. She'd known the conversation was going to be uncomfortable and probably fraught with emotion. She hadn't been certain of the outcome, not exactly, but not seeing him again could not be it. Never that.
"How can you say that?" She asked him. "After everything, that's your answer?"
He looked at her. "You need time, Maura."
"Time. I took my time. It's been months, Ian. I waited until everything was official before I called you. I did that so there wouldn't be any reason to hold us back." She shook her head, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"All of this is going to take time before you're ready for a relationship again. You need time to figure out what you really want."
"I know what I really want. How long do you think it would take me?"
"At least eighteen months," Ian told her, and Maura's jaw dropped.
"You think I need a year and a half to figure out that I'm in love with you and have been for the past three years, and that I can't imagine the rest of my life without you in it? Ian," Maura said, "have you ever known me to be a woman who wasn't sure about what she wanted?"
He gave her a stubborn frown. "You're asking if I can make a go of this with you now, and the answer has to be no."