Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
I feel fucking enormous inside her. She’s just so fucking tight. Even though I know she took me last night, I’m still worried about hurting her, so I try to restrain myself for the first few strokes, letting her body adjust to me.
Kennedy runs her fingers through my hair, leaving tender kisses all over my face as she rides me.
I love this woman so fucking much. My grip on her hair tightens and I thrust into her harder. She gasps, meeting my thrusts and riding me in perfect rhythm.
When she comes, she muffles her cries in my shoulder.
When I come, I groan shamelessly, thrusting deep into her pussy and filling her up.
I stay inside her, both of us catching our breath as we hold each other tight.
When she recovers, she leans back to look at me. Then she smiles. “My future husband.”
A helpless smile tugs at my lips and I caress the side of her face. “My future wife.”
“I love the sound of that.”
I kiss her lips softly. “Good.”
She sighs and looks at her ring again, then she wraps her arms around my neck, still with my cock inside her. She locks her legs around me to keep us locked together, sighing with contentment as she rests her head on my shoulder again. “Thank you,” she says softly.
“For what? The ring?”
She shakes her head. “That, too. It’s unbelievably beautiful. But just… thank you for making me so happy.”
My grip on her tightens almost protectively. “You never have to thank me for that. It’s my job. If I ever stop making you happy, you kick my ass.”
She laughs. “Okay.”
A moment passes. A perfect fucking moment.
I’m hesitant to break the silence because it’s so peaceful, holding her like this, still inside her body that I never want to leave. I don’t want the moment to ever end. “Thank you, too.”
“For what?” she murmurs without moving.
“For being mine.”
Chapter thirty-four
Kennedy
After a perfect week in Mexico, it’s time to go home.
I had an amazing time on vacation. Truly the most romantic week of my life.
But I won’t lie, I’m happy to go home.
I’ve never had a family I missed being away from before, so it’s a foreign feeling, but one I could definitely get used to.
Jet’s home when we get in, but Jonathan isn’t.
The refrigerator is pretty empty, so I go to the grocery store while Milo catches up on some work emails ahead of going back to work tomorrow.
Just walking through the grocery store, it’s impossible not to think about how different my life is now. When I went grocery shopping before, it was stressful. There was only so much money, and I never knew when Mom would actually be home. I tried to buy cheap stuff that stretched. Cooking was never really fun.
It’s nothing like that now. I have Milo’s credit card in my purse, so I don’t have to look at the sale ad. Hell, I don’t even have to look at price tags. I can just pick out whatever I want and put it in my cart and be completely confident knowing when I get to the register, I’ll be able to pay for it.
Christmas is right around the corner, so I even grab extra stuff to make Christmas cookies for the guys. I don’t know which ones they like yet, but I figure I can’t go wrong with a classic chocolate chip.
I grab a yellow bag of chocolate chips and go to drop it in the cart when my gaze drifts casually to movement at the other end of the aisle.
My heart stops beating and the blood freezes in my veins when I see the faded denim hugging familiar hips; the straggly, frizzy blonde hair of the woman I never wanted to see again.
My mother’s moving at a brisk pace and doesn’t notice me until she’s halfway down the aisle.
I’m frozen in place, all the breath sucked from my lungs, still clutching a bag of chocolate chips.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Wow, guess you’re alive. Sure haven’t been talking to your momma, have you? Guess you don’t need me anymore.”
Her hateful gaze rakes over me. She takes in the nice cashmere sweater Milo bought me, the $300 purse sitting in the seat of the cart, then her gaze locks on the diamond ring on my finger and her eyes go wide.
She grabs my wrist. I drop the chocolate chips into the cart and lack the power to yank my hand away as she brings it closer. “Is that a ring?” she asks, her voice low and hateful. “Is that a fucking engagement ring?”
She looks to me for an answer, but I can’t speak.
“You’re engaged?” she demands, her voice rising.
A woman at the other end of the aisle looks our way, then hastily leaves the aisle to avoid us.
Let go of me.