Fall to You

by Lexi Ryan

  My stomach clenches and my heart does a few more acrobatic moves.

  “I didn’t ask you to marry me on a whim. Forever doesn’t have a deadline.” Slowly, he lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my engagement ring. “You and me, Hanna? We’re right together.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t have to do this. No one would blame you if you walked away. Not even me.”

  He gives me a sad smile. “You hear what song is playing, don’t you?”

  I wasn’t paying attention, but I listen and realize we’re dancing to Alicia Keys and Adam Levine’s cover of “Wild Horses.” The lyrics tug at my heart.

  “Just think about it, Max.” I stop dancing, but he holds on to me. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life regretting your decision to marry me.”

  He kisses my neck then whispers in my ear, “The only decision I would regret is letting you go. I’m not swimming in money, but I can give you a good life. If you want more babies, I’ll give them to you. If you want a career, I’ll support you. I’ll eat peanut butter sandwiches every night for a year if it means you can afford to do something you love. I would do anything to see you happy, but I’d sure as hell like to be the one who wakes up to your smiles.” When I don’t speak, he pulls back to show me an awkward grin. “Think about it. You don’t have to decide tonight. If we do this, it’s on our timeline. No one else’s.”

  “Max, I chose you.”

  “I don’t begrudge you your grief, Hanna. He’s part of your past. I—”

  “No, I want you to understand. I chose you. Before the accident.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  I nod. “Five days before, Nate decided that he wanted more from me. He told me I needed to choose. To make a decision. I might not remember the days after, but I chose you. I put on your ring.”

  He toys with my ring and kisses the top of my head. We hold each other tight as we dance.

  NEXT TO me in bed, she moans softly in her sleep, her dark hair fanned out around her head. I want to touch her—trace her soft lips, the line of her jaw, the roundness of her breasts, all the way down her soft thighs to the arch of her foot. I want to taste her again, to wake her with the soft flick of my tongue against her pussy.

  I barely slept last night. I kept waking up and staring at her, pulling her tight against my chest to make sure she was still there. Still real.

  I start at her breasts. The sweep of my tongue across her already-taut nipple as I cup her between her legs.

  Then I move lower, positioning myself at the end of the bed and parting her thighs before lowering my face to taste her.

  “Well, good morning to you too,” she whispers, drawing up on her elbows.

  I lift my eyes to meet hers, and lick her clit. “Relax,” I murmur against her. “I have some things I need to do.”

  I test her wet core with my fingertip and my cock throbs. She’s already so turned on, and if I wanted to take her, she’d be ready for me. I squeeze my eyes shut against the image of Hanna underneath me as I enter her, and instead, I slide two fingers inside her.

  She gasps at the sudden intrusion, and her muscles grip my fingers so tightly my cock aches. When I lower my head and wrap my lips around her clit, she grabs a fistful of my hair. I know it’s reflex—a base instinct demanding more from me—but I fucking love that I can do that to her. I suck on her clit gently as I pump my fingers in and out of her in a rhythm so much like fucking that my own damn hips are rocking against the end of the bed.

  Her grip on my hair tightens and her hips rock until she’s fucking my fingers and my face in the sexiest way possible.

  I drew her a bath last night and climbed in behind her. I washed her and explored her then used the showerhead to rinse her off before sliding it between her legs. She was shocked at first, the sensation of the pulsing water too much against her sensitive flesh, but I held her still, sucked at the tender skin at the side of her neck until she relaxed into the pleasure, until she was rocking her hips for more. Her moans grew louder and her ass rubbed against me, harder and more frantic as her orgasm built. I rolled her nipples in my fingers and whispered dirty words in her ear, and when she came—violently, beautifully—I imagined her pussy squeezing my cock. It was so fucking good—touching her, feeling her—I could have come too, right there in the water like some teenage virgin, from nothing but the sound of her moans and the pressure of her ass rubbing against me. I was rewarded for my self-control when she turned in the water, wrapped her arms and legs around me, and guided me into her.

  After, she lowered her head to my chest and I watched her hair fan out in the water behind her, measured her breaths until she feel asleep.

  She’s not sleeping now. Her hand is in my hair, her soft little cries echoing in the silence of the bedroom.

  “CAN I get you a latte?” I ask Mom. She met me at the bakery like I asked her to, though she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else and she hasn’t made eye contact with me once since she arrived. “Or I could get you a muffin, maybe?”

  “You know I don’t eat sugar,” she snips.

  I take a breath. Yeah. I do know that. If I thought news of giving her grandbabies was going to change that, I guess I don’t know her very well.

  “It’s true? You’re pregnant?” she asks. She’s still not looking at me. She’s staring out the window like she’s waiting for someone to pull up and rescue her from this conversation.

  I lower myself into a chair at the little table where I imagined we’d hash out the challenges ahead of us. Clearly I’ve been delusional if I thought my mom would see my canceled wedding as a “challenge” we could problem solve together.

  “I’m pregnant,” I confirm.

  Max stands behind me and squeezes my shoulders, and I’m so grateful for him being here right now. Part of me thought I should do it alone—it’s not like they’re his babies—but it’s a relief to have him close.

  Mom spins on us suddenly. “Well, no one else needs to know. Your wedding is in two weeks. Everyone will think you got pregnant on the honeymoon.”

  Right, about that…

  “We’re canceling the wedding,” Max says, sparing me from finding the words. “It’s too soon and too fast, and Hanna needs to focus on the pregnancy right now.”

  Mom’s jaw drops. It’s such a dramatic expression that I almost want to laugh, but I’ve probably pissed her off enough for one day. “This is a mistake.”

  “No, it’s not,” Max says. “The mistake would be rushing into this like we have been. I want to spend the rest of my life with Hanna, but she’s been through a lot in the last month and we both have some things to figure out before we say our vows.”

  She worries her lip between her teeth. “Okay. We could push it back a month, maybe use my heart attack as an excuse. Then we’ll just pretend the baby came early.”

  I shake my head. “No, Mom. I’m not getting married until after the babies are born, and that would be the soonest.”

  “Babies?”

  “Twins,” I whisper.

  I didn’t think it was possible, but her face goes even harder. “Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought. You have no idea how hard it is to have a baby, let alone two at a time.” She turns her scowl on Max. “How are you going to let her have your babies without being married?”

  “They aren’t his,” I blurt before Max can respond. “I slept with someone else and got pregnant. This isn’t Max’s fault.”

  She presses her hand to her chest and sinks into the chair across from me, and I think, I am going to kill my mother. This might really kill her. So much for finding an easy way to break my news.

  “Could I speak with my daughter alone, please?” She’s looking out the window again. Apparently, she can’t tolerate the sight of me.

  Max squeezes my shoulders, and there’s so much in that tiny gesture. He’s saying that he’ll be here if I need him, that he loves me, that he’s proud of me. Then he presses a kiss to the top of my hea
d and goes to the kitchen to give us some privacy.

  “What will people think?” Mom says as soon as we’re alone.

  I shrug. “I spent my whole life worrying what people would think. You taught me that. Since I was ten years old, I wondered if I was too fat for people to like me, believed I had to make up for it by being kind, by pretending I didn’t have any feelings of my own. I can’t tell you the number of decisions I made just to please you. I am so over what ‘people’ think, because ‘people’ really means you, and you should love me unconditionally. Screw-ups and all.”

  “I do.” Her eyes well with tears, but she pushes out of her seat and turns her back to me. “I just want to protect you from bad decisions.”

  I’m not surprised when she leaves, but just because you expect something doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Max must have heard the bell over the door because he’s beside me, pulling me against his chest and stroking my hair before I even realize I’m crying.

  By the time Liz comes in the back door, I’ve settled down but I’m sitting in Max’s lap, snuggled against his chest.

  “Go,” she says, pointing to the ceiling. “Go back upstairs and get to sleep or screw like rabbits or whatever you have to do, because it’s way too early for people to have to look at that.”

  I grin. “You look like you just rolled out of some guy’s bed.” And she does. In jeans and a man’s white button-up shirt, she looks, in fact, like she crawled out of bed and scrambled for something to wear. I arch a brow. “How’d it go last night?”

  She crosses her arms. “You can’t prove anything.”

  Max and I laugh, but then I sober when I tell Liz, “We’re calling off the wedding. We told Mom this morning.”

  She flinches. “But you guys look so happy.”

  “We don’t have to get married to stay happy,” Max says.

  “Take off your dress,” Max whispers behind me.

  A thrill rushes through me at the command. It’s been a week since Cally’s wedding, and every night, Max has come to my apartment when he gets off work. Some nights he has Claire and we hold her and feed her and generally spoil her rotten. And some nights it’s just him and he takes off my clothes and does these amazing things to my body.

  I obey. I pull the black sundress off over my head and let the fabric spill to the floor.

  He takes me by the shoulders, and I feel his eyes on every inch of me as he slowly turns me to face him.

  He tilts my chin up with his fingertips and lowers his mouth to mine. Our kiss isn’t easy or sweet. It’s not the coaxing kiss of seduction or the lazy kiss of long-time lovers. No, this kiss is a cocktail of need and regret and desperation. It’s the hard kiss of two people grasping on to something they thought they’d lost. It’s the demanding kiss of lonely hearts offered a second chance. It’s lips and tongues and teeth, and before it’s over, my arms are wrapped around his neck, my legs wrapped around his waist, while he hoists me up and carries me to the bed.

  He settles me on the edge, and I lie back and let him look his fill. In the last two weeks, my breasts have grown firmer than normal with pregnancy, and they’re extra sensitive when he grazes my nipples with his fingers.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

  He trails a hand between my breasts, over my belly, and circles my navel with his thumb. I can’t believe I ever doubted his attraction to me. It’s everywhere—in his touch, in his eyes, in the way he talks to me to turn me on.

  I reach for him. “Come here.”

  He pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans, pushing them and his briefs from his hips in one fluid movement. But when he’s nude, he doesn’t settle over me. He lowers to his knees and places his face between my parted thighs. I love his face between my legs, but I had an especially lonely day, and I need him close to me tonight.

  I urge him up, and he kisses me one last time before climbing up my body and settling on top of me. I draw up my knees, and he slides into me with one long, hungry movement. His lips find mine as he pumps. His hands tangle in my hair.

  “I’ve thought about this all day,” he whispers in my ear. “Getting inside you, feeling you wrapped around me, making you come.”

  I whimper under him, and he hooks his arm under my knee and drives into me farther, deeper, harder. “Please,” I murmur.

  “Please what, baby?” His mouth is on my neck, his teeth nipping at my earlobe. “This?” He finds my breast between our bodies and toys with my taut nipple. I gasp, and he groans against my ear. “You are so sexy. So amazing.”

  He shifts slightly and suddenly he’s deeper, pressing into me harder, and I lose control as my hips dance to their own rhythm against his, desperate, hungry, demanding. I curl my fingers into the thick, corded muscles of his arms and meet him stroke for stroke.

  When he slows and circles his hips, I can’t hold on anymore, and I let the orgasm tear through me and bring with it all the joy and love and regret I feel for this man.

  He cleans us up after and we lie next to each other in bed—nude, fingers exploring each other.

  “Did you know I used to think you didn’t like me?” he asks.

  That makes me smile. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

  He toys with my fingers. “Back in high school. You’d be laughing with your sister and Cally. You’ve always had the most beautiful smile, and it makes people want to be around you. Want to have that smile aimed at them. And you’d be laughing and smiling, and I’d walk up and you’d stop. Like you were just waiting for me to leave so you could have fun again.”

  I laugh and bite my lip. “I didn’t want you to leave. I wanted you to notice me, and I was so nervous.”

  He nods. “I noticed. I just didn’t think I could love someone like you. I didn’t think I could handle it.”

  “I am pretty demanding.”

  He gives me a sad smile and brushes my hair from my face. His eyes fill with tears, and he kisses me right over my heart then trails down until his lips are against my stomach. “I know I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you. But I swear to you I’m going to earn it. Our life together. Waking up next to you. I’m going to earn it, Hanna.”

  “Max, I—” Someone is knocking on the front door. It’s after ten p.m. Who would be visiting me this late?

  As Max climbs out of bed and pulls on his jeans, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. “I’ll go with you,” I tell Max. I shove my arms into my robe, grab my phone off the nightstand, and read the text as I follow him toward the door. “Liz says we need to turn on the news.”

  Max frowns and the deadbolt clicks as he unlocks it. “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say, but—” Whatever words I was going to speak are lost with my breath as Max opens the door.

  There he is. My most desperate prayer and my life’s greatest complication.

  Nate Crane.

  Thank you for reading the second book in the Here and Now series. Hanna’s journey concludes in book three, All for This, coming August 2014. If you’d like to receive an email when it and my other new titles are available, please sign up for my newsletter.

  Read other books by Lexi Ryan

  New Politics—Tonight You’re Perfect

  Snow Patrol—Chasing Cars

  Sarah McLachlan—Angel

  Christina Perri—Human

  Brooke Fraser—You Can Close Your Eyes

  Ed Sheeran—Kiss Me

  Coldplay—Magic

  Ed Sheeran—Lego House

  John Legend—All of Me

  Alicia Keys, Adam Levine—Wild Horses

  I wish I could say I do all this by myself, but the truth is, none of my books would have made it into the world without the assistance of countless people.

  First and always, my husband, Brian, and our kids, Jack and Mary. I have the best little family and I’m so lucky to share my days with you. Thank you for cheering me on, lifting me up, and reminding me what really matters in this life.

  To
my brother-in-law, Gary, for answering questions about travel across the Middle East. Thanks for sharing your experience and knowledge. Any errors are my own.

  A huge thank-you to my friends and family for being amazing cheerleaders. I couldn’t ask for better book pimps.

  To everyone who provided me feedback on this crazy twisty-turny plot—especially Rhonda Helms, Adrienne Hogan, and Samantha Leighton. Rock stars, all of you.

  Thank you to the team that helped me package this book and promote it. Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations designed my beautiful cover, and if I have my way she will do many, many more for me. To my editing team, Rhonda Helms, Mickey Reed, and Arran McNicol, you make my books better. To Chris, my assistant, who keeps me organized against all odds. Thank you to Christine at iHeartBigBooks for designing my gorgeous promo materials, and a massive shout-out to Julie with AToMR for organizing my promotional events. To all of the bloggers and reviewers who help spread the word about my books—you’re amazing. Every one of you.

  To my agent Dan Mandel and my foreign rights agent Stefanie Diaz for getting my books into the hands of readers all over the world—you’re making my dreams come true.

  To all my writer friends on Twitter, Facebook, and my various writer loops, thank you for your support and inspiration. Thanks to Emma Hart for raving about book one and beginning the #TeamNateinmyPanties hashtag—my mom is proud. Special thanks to the NWB—Sawyer Bennett, Lauren Blakely, Violet Duke, Jessie Evans, Melody Grace, Monica Murphy, and Kendall Ryan—you ladies make me smile on a daily basis!

  And last but certainly not least, thank you to my fans all over the world. To those who read Unbreak Me and Wish I May and wrote begging for another New Hope story. To those who read Lost in Me and said you couldn’t wait to get your hands on Fall to You. You’re the best fans an author could ask for. I couldn’t do this without you and wouldn’t want to. Thank you for buying my books and telling your friends about them. Thank you for being gracious and kind in your letters. You’re the best!