Forty Candles (11 page)

“I don’t want a nice girl. I want you.”

“Please stop saying the right thing for a minute so I can finish.”

“Sorry. Your speech is rather long, and I’d much rather kiss you. This week has been hell.”

She refused to laugh at the ridiculousness of the conversation. A hysterical sputter broke past her guard and she buried her face in his chest, unable to meet his eyes. “Well, my speech is almost over. Like I was saying, I might never be a nice girl, but I’m the one you’re stuck with. I love you, Jack. And if you leave me, I swear to God, your property is the last thing you should worry about because—”

Whatever stupid threat she’d planned to tack on was drowned by his mouth closing over hers. The kiss was desperate, tasted a little like her tears, and involved more than a little scraping of teeth on her lip. She didn’t care. It was everything. It was Jack. Good, bad, ugly, it didn’t matter. It was Jack.

So lost in his touch, she was startled when he dragged her clear of the truck to press her into the soft grass. “I need you, Chloe. I need you now, but I can’t do what I need in my truck.”

Her laughter felt clean, almost like she sloughed off the weight of her mistakes with it. “You can’t forgive me for years of being an idiot and have wild monkey sex in the grass with me. I messed up. I messed everything up. I have to find a way to make it right with us.”

“I told you, I don’t want a nice girl, I want you. I don’t want a woman who says all the right things, who realizes she’s in love early on and doesn’t leave her man tailing after her like a sick dog for years…I want you. I want your flaws. I want your smart mouth. I want your tears. I want to be by your side for all that life throws at us and I knew that when we were still kids. Look, it’s not your fault you were slower on the uptake—” He laughed as she pinched his ass. “But now that you’ve finally realized what a fantastic catch I am, can I please have a look at those fantastic breasts of yours? Because, baby, I also want your body.”

Pulling him into a kiss, she managed to back away once more. “That wasn’t the most romantic speech any man has ever uttered, Sir Jack of the hard cock.”

“Chloe, I already admitted that I know you’re not perfect. I’m not either. I’m just a man who loves a woman…and right now, I need you.” He accompanied his words by tugging her shirt up so he could cup her breasts in his big hands. “I think I’ve always needed you.” His words were punctuated by his expression, one any woman would love to receive. The stark hunger and primal desire etched on his face sent heat racing through her veins.

With that, she was done with words. She fastened her mouth on his and didn’t let him go, even has he stripped away her clothes with almost magical speed. When their bodies finally touched skin to skin, she swore it was a tangled mess of feelings from the past and the present and all their tomorrows tangled in one electrical slide of flesh. “Oh, Jack.”

“Mine.” He hissed the claim and, for the first time, she nodded, scraping her nails on his back. Urging him closer, she wanted fast. She wanted him right then, no waiting or preamble.

But he’d always been a patient man and once he’d acquired her agreement, he seemed determined to drive her mad. Between nips and nibbles, open mouthed kisses, and the feel of his calloused fingertips against her, she was soon begging him. “Please,” she whispered.

“I’m driving from here on out.” With that declaration, he lifted her hips and kissed between her legs. She bucked into the sensation, hungry for more of him, for all of him. While his mouth teased and licked at her clit, his fingers worked to find the bundle of nerves deep inside her. As if they’d made love moments before rather than years, he found the spot and soon she cried out in jagged gasps as he sent her spiraling to orgasm. “I’ve missed the taste of your surrender on my tongue. I’ve missed the way you tremble and shake as if you were about to shatter in a million pieces I’d have to assemble again. Most of all, I’ve missed this.”

Then he pushed inside her and she arched into him. Clutching him close, fingers sliding a little on his sweat slicked arms, she would swear her eyes rolled back from the perfection of having him inside her, connected to her, again. Then he began to move and she couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, couldn’t do more than move with him in a dance they’d apparently not forgotten the moves to.

When he groaned and jerked above her, she shattered again, feeling as if she was splitting into all the pieces he mentioned. Her breath came out in sobs of air and her muscles twitched and yet she refused to let him go. As if he was equally unwilling to allow even a molecule of space between them, he hugged her close. His soft whisper in her ear, “Please don’t leave me again,” broke her heart and mended it all in one phrase.

“I won’t. I can’t promise this will work or that I’ll be any good at it, but I’m going to try. I love you, Jack. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” She wasn’t sure if he heard all the words, since she still couldn’t breathe right and it seemed like she was shivering from the overload of emotions and sensations.

“I did it wrong the first time. I’ll do better this time, too.” His fervent promise had her rubbing his bald head to make him turn to face her.

“What do you mean?”

“My proposal.” He grinned at her, looking much more at peace. The fact he’d been hurting before—that was on her and she owned it. But if she was taking responsibility for things, she gave him the happiness that now turned his lips up and lit the depths of his eyes. That was her, too.

“There was nothing wrong with your first proposal, you idiot. I messed that up. It was me. You were fine.”

He shook his head before biting her nipple. “No, baby, I knew you. I should have known not to do it that way. Don’t worry, I’ll get it right this time.”

She buried her face in his chest, hiding her expression and blinking back fresh tears. No, he wouldn’t do it right. He’d been perfect, he’d always been there. She’d been the one to fuck up.

Which meant that, this time? She’d be the one to get it right.

Jack wasn’t sure why the chief picked him to go to the conference. Based on the website, the big discussion was about riot management…not something that often became useful in a small town and Jack had no plans to move.

Still, he’d never seen Canada, although he’d heard good things. He wasn’t much for cities, but, well, since he and Chloe finally worked things out, he felt like he could do just about anything.

Funny how he’d spent such a big chunk of his life waiting for their life together to get started. Now that it had…

He couldn’t wait to see her face each morning. Couldn’t wait to hear about her day and what she thought of her day. She’d always been his friend. He’d laughed at her jokes, wanted to be by her side, and settled for a half-life.

Now they’d been together for months and part of him…

Waited for the other shoe to drop. He hated himself for borrowing trouble, but he’d been stalling popping the question for fear of rocking the boat. What if it made her backtrack again? Could he live with her walking away? Now that he’d experienced living with her, loving her without restrictions, he wasn’t sure if he could go back to being without her.

It was weak. He should be ashamed of himself.

Yet he carried the damned ring around in his pocket and hadn’t given it to her. He’d stroked the box so many times, he’d worn the fuzz off it.

He shouldn’t worry. He should trust her, trust their love.

Instead? Like some feebleminded teenage girl scrawling names in a notebook, his palms sweated and he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Chloe, will you marry me?

Simple question, but he knew it’d driven her away once.

Parking his truck, he squinted up at the hotel. Seemed odd that they were holding the convention in an indoor waterpark, but he sure wasn’t complaining. One thing he loved without hesitation was swimming.

Checking in, he headed up to his room, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He pulled his phone out and thought about texting her. Just a
hey, how ya doing?
kind of text.

Too many times lately, he hesitated. Always worried his next move would be the one to make her run. Part of him started to wonder if he could take the constant worry…

Using his keycard, he opened the door and slammed to a halt.

Rose petals strewn all over the floor—had they assigned him the wrong room? Then he caught a whiff of her.

What kind of desperate fuck was he to recognize the smell of her?

Ignoring his own insecurities, he closed the door behind him and followed the sound of running water to the bathroom. A huge hot tub of a bathtub filled the blue tiled space, lit by candles and scented with the roses and his woman. “Chloe?”

Lifting one bubble clad leg out of the water, she smiled the secretive and mysterious smile that always hardened his cock. “Hey, handsome. Surprised?”

“There’s no convention?” He dropped his bag on the floor, the heat of the room soaking through his clothes. Well, that explained the water park anyway.

“Nope. You always said you wanted to go to Niagara Falls for a honeymoon. And that you’d do it at a water park so you and your bride could ride waterslides. Thought it would be a romantic getaway.” She moved in the water, coming closer and leaning over the edge of the tub to wiggle a finger at him. She wanted him to come closer. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes.

Part of him thrilled that she’d planned this for them.

Part of him bit back disappointment. Yes, he’d wanted this for a honeymoon and with her…had imagined it on particularly lonely nights. But in his fantasies, she was his bride, not his lover. He didn’t tell her, though, instead unbuttoning his pants. “I’m shocked you remembered that.”

She stood, water sluicing down her body and his breath caught. Funny how she could still do that after all this time—take his breath away.

“I remembered. Come here.” He managed to strip the rest of the way and moved to join her in the water, but she pushed him to sit on the bench, knee-deep in the water.

When she knelt between his legs, he grinned at her. “Hey, while you’re down there.”

Instead of snarking back, her hand rose out of the water holding a box.

“I know, you’re supposed to give me a ring. But we’ve done none of this the way it is supposed to be done, so why start now? When I was a girl, I met a boy who became my friend. You were my first love and I want you to be my last love. I might not have treated you right, not for a very long time, and we might hit hard times. But I know, and I’ve always known, that no matter what happens, if we’re together we can get through it. I guess what I’m saying is, Jack, would you marry me? Will you make love to me until we’re both old and drooping? Will you put up with my mistakes, let me lean on you when I’m all wound up and scared, and let me do the same for you?”

She finished her speech and chewed her lip and he couldn’t move. Chloe offering sex? Not shocking. Okay, he couldn’t say he’d come to expect it, but he’d accepted she might never offer more. She said she loved him, but trusting him? That took more.

Her kneeling in the bubbling water and holding up the ring? She wasn’t running from him.

“I told you I owed you a decent proposal. You’re cheating.” He shouldn’t joke, but everything he’d ever wanted was right in front of him. If he lost it after getting this close…

Well, he didn’t know how he’d come back from that.

Her hands slid up his legs, warm and wet from the water. He hissed out a breath as his body came to instant readiness to take her. To plunge inside her and lose himself in all that was his whirlwind, Chloe.

“You’re worried I don’t mean it. I figured that might happen.” She kissed the head of his cock and then wrapped her arms around his waist. “I kept wracking my brain, thinking of how to prove to you I wasn’t running again. That I was in this for us and I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Delving his fingers into her hair, he hugged her close. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you come up with?”

Her eyes met his. Somehow, no matter how much time had passed, she still had the scared eyes of the little girl who felt like she didn’t deserve love. Maybe that was what kept him chasing her. He’d been trying to prove to her that someone loved her for years—him.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” He’d forgotten the question.

“Yup.” Her fingertips traced one of his nipples and he watched, spelled by her. “I can’t ever prove to you that I’m all in. Instead, I’ll just have to prove it every day.” Her fingernails dragged down the inside of his thighs and he clenched his teeth against the sensual pleasure of it. “I can prove it with my body. I can prove it with my love. I can prove it by doing just what you’ve been doing for years…one day at a time.” With that, she took his cock in her mouth and sucked hard. He couldn’t help it, his hips jerked into it and his hand clenched in her hair.

“You don’t have to prove anything.” He wasn’t sure how he managed the words when all the blood had raced from his brain to his dick.

“Oh, but I do.” She stood and he eagerly tugged her closer so he could suckle at her lovely tits. “And I will. But the first step is the wedding. Your family is here.”

He let loose the nipple with an audible pop of sound and wasn’t proud that his voice raised an octave when he squeaked, “Here?”

Low laughter, laced with her own rising desire, answered him. “Not here, like in the room. Here at the hotel. I hauled everyone up here, hired a sitter for Stark... We’ll be married at dinnertime, have supper and a brief get together, then you and I are on a week-long honeymoon. Surprised yet?”

He was more interested in pulling her leg over his so he could investigate the folds of her. “You’re sure?” Keeping his eyes on his task, he slipped one finger inside her. Somehow, he feared his face might give away his worry she’d change her mind.

As if she knew, she captured his face and tilted it up. “You never answered me.”

Using his thumb, he circled her clit while moving the finger in and out of her desire drenched pussy. “About whether I’m surprised? Yes, I’m surprised.”