by MJ Fields
“You’re my one and only.”
She repeats, “You’re my one and only.”
“Nothing will ever come between us.” I step out of my jeans, then push off my boxers.
“Nothing,” she whispers as she looks me over appreciatively.
Naked, I climb on the bed and hover over her, settling my hips above hers.
I lean down and kiss her; she kisses me deeper as her hips rock against mine.
Fighting the urge to push inside of her, I reach between us and gently rub her clit.
“Yes.” Her back arches, and she moans. Then, she reaches between us and grabs my cock as she wraps her legs around me, taking control and fuck, fuck, fuck, if it doesn’t feel good.
She rubs my head against her core, and I push into her slowly, and I tell her, “I love you.”
“Love you,” she whimpers. “So much.”
Never in my life have I spent two full days in bed, only leaving the bed to shower and eat.
Aside from making love, another first, we shared photos and stories about our past. Her younger years were spent not truly knowing how to grieve her mother’s death, and fighting to stay part of her ‘friends’ group’ after such a life-altering event was difficult. She always felt out of place, and she knew it was her and not them. Her innocence and ability to simply ‘hang out’ with friends, trying to fit in when her life had changed drastically, was difficult. Her father worked hard to maintain their lifestyle and did so successfully. The fact he never remarried never bothered her until now. She wanted him to feel love again.
My younger years were spent learning the family business, even though I wasn’t pushed to do so. But unlike my brothers, I had little interest in anything else.
The fact that I respected and admired my father above all wasn’t a secret. I worshipped the man. But when Sarah pointed out that it was obvious that I shared the same respect and adoration for my mother, it bore the realization that I never gave any woman a chance because none looked at me the way she always did my father—until Sarah.
She’d asked if I needed to check in on Hawthorne several times, and I jokingly asked if she was sick of me already.
“No, I just know how important your work is to you.”
My heart expanded, and I knew that my mother was somewhere smiling.
She’s resting now, sweetly, peacefully as I worked on proposals for Fisher Island, Florida and Sonoma, California.
When she wakes, we’ll be off to check out the properties, and she’ll be joining the mile-high club.
“You showered without me.”
I look up from the sink and catch the reflection.
“You look better in my shirt than I do.”
“It’s very warm and smells,” she pulls the collar up, inhaling with a sexy little smile, “like you.”
Turning around, I lean against the vanity, and my chest tightens at the way she looks at me. There is no longer a shyness or stolen glances she thinks I don’t see. She wants me the same way I want her.
I grip the countertop to stop myself from giving her what we both want—aware that physically she’s got to be a bit…sore. “If I give in to what we clearly want right now, we’ll miss our flight.”
“Our what?”
“We have two properties to check out. If all goes well, Julia, myself, and my new training and development coordinator will be busy in our new economic development office in Holiday Springs.”
“Wait, what?”
“Julia isn’t employed by Hawthorne Aspen. She’s been moved to Hawthorne Holdings US as my personal assistant. Raff’s new love interest, Nikki Winterfield, is a Cornell graduate and has worked in real estate in Manhattan. She’s starting to search for office space near the old run-down resort just on the outskirts of Holiday Springs. We’re going to make it a five-star resort,” I push off the counter and stride to her, pull her in, and kiss the top of her head, “and you are Hawthorne’s new training and development coordinator.”
“Wait, what?” she gasps.
I step back and wink. “Shower, we have a plane to catch, clubs to join, and properties to purchase.”
I love the way she’s looking at me, shaking her head with a sweet smile. “I slept for eight hours, and you were taking over the world.”
“You needed it.”
“Well, I also need to tend to my plants and—”
“They’re tended to.”
“What? How?”
I walk past her, pausing to peck her cheek and walk away telling her, “My personal assistant has been advised the love of my life is priority one and has been given strict instructions to kick me in the ass if I spend too much time behind a computer, and yours if you for one minute think this is a bad idea.”
“I need to grab some clothes.”
“Your bags are all packed. Get that sexy ass showered. I’ll bring you some travel clothes, then we jet.”
Downstairs I look through the garment bag and make sure the three suits I purchased for her in London are packed. One Tom Ford, one Alexandra McQueen, and one Dolce & Gabbana. I purchased pencil skirts for easier access, but the saleswoman also talked me into trousers, as well as camis and blouses.
I pull out the nude-colored sleeveless dress and black leather jacket for travel and lay it over the back of the chair. Then open the suitcase packed for her and groan when I see the sexy silk nightgowns and each piece of lingerie I picked specifically for Sarah’s hot little body from Bordelle—all incredibly sexy, all completely her. I grab a nude set, the bralette, thong, matching garter belt, and thigh highs.
I pull out the black velvet thigh-high boots that are perfect for travel and make sure the black strappy red bottoms are there for when we touch down in Miami.
I knew Alfred never makes a mistake. His attention to detail is impeccable. I’ve never once looked at my bags to make sure the things I requested be packed are. It’s not that I mistrust him, hell he knows everything about me, more than I know about myself at times, but now, well, now, I have a deep need to ensure everything is checked and double-checked when it comes to Sarah. I want perfection for her, and I want to ensure I am putting more effort into showing my love in all the ways a man should his woman.
Chapter Twenty Three
Only love gives us the taste of eternity.
- Jewish proverb
Sarah
I’m sitting at the resort spa getting a pedicure while reading through the employment contract Beckett had sent to the new company tablet he handed me after receiving a toe-curling orgasm a mile high in the clouds on his company jet.
The man doesn’t miss a beat.
As if the clothes, the tablet, my salary doubling, the retirement plan incentive package, and travel perks were not enough, here I am, a glass of champagne and being pampered while he’s attending a meeting.
All of these things are amazing, but if given a choice between the material things and the man, I’d choose the man a hundred times over.
The man whom I wish was above me right now because the feelings I recognized and terrified me enough to push him away weeks ago are so much more intense now. In fact, they’re nearly immobilizing.
He loves me.
After the past few days, the promises, the love I feel from him and toward him—it’s all-encompassing.
I’m not unable to accept that my fear was never being enough for someone, and eventually, when they realized it, my heart would break for the third and final time. It’s been broken two and a half times already, my mother’s passing, my diagnosis, and the half break was when I pushed him out of my life.
Julia asked me the age-old question. ‘Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’
I was hurt and, yes, a bit angry that she had asked me that when I was at my lowest of lows after he left without a goodbye. Now I’m pretty sure I know why; she knew he’d be back.
I focus back on the document before me while my toenails are being painted. I chose red, the c
olor of love.
I’m sure the clothes I’m wearing, and the accessories cost more than the entire wardrobe in my closet. A very big part of me wanted to tell him no, but a bigger part of me loved that he was excited when he gave them to me, almost like it was a gift to himself. Well, the undergarments certainly were, but seriously I’ve never worn lace that didn’t itch, and my panties are incredibly comfortable. And then there was the reality that if I were going to be on his arm, I needed to match his aesthetic—he deserved nothing less.
My phone chimes, and I pull it out of my purse, another gift from Beckett, a Louis Vuitton clutch. This man and his gifts…insanity.
It’s a text.
Faith
From heartbreak to the heroine in her real-life romance. Do I know how to pick a book or what?
Me
I owe you big, Faith. Bigger than big, huge! Best book I’ve ever read. Now to find your real-life hero.
Faith
I found him already. He’s thick, long, always hard, and makes me come quicker than any man I’ve ever met.
Me
OMG, do tell!
Faith
I’ll do you one better. I’ll send a pic. Hold, please…
Meet Barney!
I swear I’m holding my breath as the dots pop up. She was so nervous the other night. She told me she was meeting someone for cocoa. Now I have a name and soon a…
I gasp when the picture pops up, nearly drop my phone, and have to cover my mouth because I swear, I can’t contain the laughter.
Barney is a very…large vibrator.
Faith
Soooo hot, right?
Me
You’re such an ass. I was waiting for a pic of your date! Lol.
Faith
He rescheduled last minute. I told him to fuck right off.
Me
DON’T YOU DARE DO THAT! HE TRIED TO RESCHEDULE. HE DIDN’T BLOW YOU OFF!
Faith
Yeah, well, it’s not the first time, but it is the last.
I begin responding, and another message from her pops up.
Faith
We’ll talk later! Julia, Layla, Nathaniel, and I are meeting for dinner tonight.
Me
My Julia?
Faith
Mine now.
Me
I still claim you both.
Faith
Fine, it’s a threesome!
When I returned to the villa, I found a linen dress laid out on the bed and a pair of red sandals, a matching large, brimmed sun hat, a clutch, and sunglasses, too, of course.
I spotted this outfit at one of the boutiques as I passed by. I thought it would look better on you than the display.
Meet me at the Beach Club restaurant. The concierge will show you the way.
XOXOXO
Beckett Hawthorne
Following the hostess through the Beach Club restaurant, I am in awe of just how upscale it is, which after the visit to the spa and being inside the luxury villa, I shouldn’t be, but I truly am.
It’s airy and elegant, the indoor dining area pours out to the beachfront seating, and it reminds me a bit of our first dinner together in Colorado. Beckett obviously loves dining outside. I can’t blame him. He seems to spend half his life in the boardroom and the other half in a bedroom.
I make a mental note to drag him in the fresh air as often as I possibly can.
Walking out into the Florida sun, I am temporarily blinded and when my eyes focus again. I don’t see Beckett. I see my father.
My heart nearly bursts as I hurry toward his open arms, and I almost cry when he hugs me.
When we arrived in Florida, I felt incredibly guilty that I wouldn’t see him. It has been over six months since we’ve seen each other, and that’s longer than we’ve ever gone.
He steps back and looks me over. “You look radiant, Sarah. The color is back in your cheeks. Praise God. You’re healthy again.”
“You look wonderful as well.” I smile, fighting the urge to cry. He’s wearing his lucky white polo shirt, and his skin is almost leather-like in its tan. “I-it’s the Florida sun, I suppose.”
He steps around me and pulls out a chair. “Sit, we’ve lots to talk about.”
It only dawns on me then that Beckett did this, and for a brief moment, I smile. And then I remember, Beckett is not Jewish. He’s…Catholic.
As soon as he sits, he looks me over again. “You’re happy, yes?”
“I am.” I’m hesitant. This is a conversation I wasn’t prepared for.
“Are you in love with this...Irish man?” His voice is stern, and I know the only way to get through this is with absolute truth.
“Very much,” I answer honestly.
“Yet you haven’t spoken of him on the telephone once during our weekly calls.”
“I was afraid to tell you.”
“Tell me he was Catholic?”
I shake my head, shrugging. “I was afraid when he found out about me—he would walk away.”
“Any man who walks from someone as special as you would be a fool. Would I rather you have married Janet’s son, Joshua, who recently finished medical school, by the way? Sure.” He opens his hands to me, and we both laugh.
“As my father, I think you're obligated to feel that way.”
He shakes his head, “No, Sarah, as a father, a Jewish father, I am obligated not to give you my blessing. But as the father of a wonderful woman, whom God himself saved, I’d be wrong to tell you to turn away from a man who can provide for you like this. And as a father who trusts his daughter because she has a loving heart and a strength unmatched by most men, I will not deny you a chance for happiness.” He looks over my head and nods.
I turn to see what it is he’s looking at, and my breath catches when I see Beckett walking toward me, reaching out his hand to me. I look back at my father. “I promise you’ll admire him, Dad. He works like you did.”
I see tears well in my father’s eyes for the third time in my life and desperately want to hug him. I hear a throat clearing and turn around to the sound.
My eyes focus downward, and it’s Beckett, down on one knee. For a moment, I wonder what Beckett Hawthorne is doing in such a submissive position.
But only for a moment…
He lifts his eyes to mine, and the wetness in his pupils has my heart pausing. “Sarah Golden, will you do me the extreme honor of becoming my wife?”
Nodding, I laugh. “Yes!” Tears of joy spill from my face. I couldn’t stop them even if I tried.
I watch as he opens the red velvet box and see the most beautiful, sparkling round-cut solitaire diamond I’ve ever seen.
He takes it out of the box and places it on my ring finger.
He looks up at me, smiling that beautiful smile, his green eyes brilliant in the sun. “I love you, Sarah, Mo Ghrá.”
“Mo Ghrá?”
He stands, wraps his arms around me, lifts me, and spins me, whispering in my ear, “My love.”
Body against body, smile against smile, lips against lips, he whispers, “Mine and only mine.”
Smiling, I whisper, “Yes, Sir.”
His hand slides down my back, covering my ass as he whispers back, “And my Caile becomes Mo Ghrá.”
Epilogue One
(London, New Years Eve.)
Trí na chéile a thógtar na cáisléain.
In our togetherness, castles are built.
- Irish proverb
Beckett
The strides Hawthorne US has made in three months I liken to one climbing Everest in eight hours with one leg. Damn near impossible, but once everything fell in place, absolutely incredible.
Could I have finalized the purchase of the resort on Fisher Island or the one in Sonoma? Yes, of course, I could have. But the reality is, without Sarah, Holiday Springs would have been a bust due to ego and testosterone alone. Partnering with Raff was always the plan on that one, but the other shit I agreed to was well beyond my normal concessions.
I wanted to marry the very day I proposed; however, Sarah and her father didn’t want the nuptials to fall during traditional or religious holidays and observations.
Off-limits: Every Friday evening, or Shabbat, which lasts from Friday’s sunset to Saturday’s sunset. I was shocked that work wasn’t allowed at this time either. Sarah insisted that it doesn’t apply to me since I’m not Jewish. However, I like the idea of one full twenty-four-hour period to do things that don’t involve business. Sports don’t count as work, either, so count me in for a good football game on Saturdays. And as luck would have it, sex is a “mitzvah,” or good deed. Thank you, God, for that one! We aren’t sticklers for the rules, and we’ve traveled during those times, but being a mile high in the air with Sarah, had nothing to do with work or business. In fact, that was all pleasure. Other wedding dates to avoid were on Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Shemini Atzeret, and we threw Christmas and Hanukkah in for good measure.
We celebrated both, and although I’m not pressuring her to adopt or use a surrogate, I think our children would benefit from celebrating two religions, one with her father and one with my brothers and their families. Yes, I said it. Children. She may not be able to carry them, but there are many other ways to grow a family.
We’ve also not discussed how said children would be raised, but since I am truly only Catholic twice a year, I will follow Sarah’s lead.
When we arrived in London on Christmas Eve, she fell in love with the city. The rich history and architectural wonders were what did it for her.