Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
JULIETTE
I ’m soaking wet. I shouldn’t be, but there’s evidence on my leggings where there shouldn’t be. I should be focusing on not trusting him.
Even though I’m pretty sure I can. It’s just too scary to think about—too scary to accept. Last time I did, the consequences were dire. This time, I have more than just me to think about. But the idea of PJ missing out on having his mom and his dad around, together, under one roof gnaws at me. Him not having that feels wrong. I mean, isn’t that why I dated Arnie? Didn’t I want PJ to have a father figure?
“Juliette,” Dean says. The sound rumbling through his chest, sending quiver quakes through my pussy. “Do I make myself clear?”
A thousand thoughts run through my mind. An endless loop of what ifs. I want this. I want him and I love him. But can I really let myself fall for him again? Can I really let myself believe in him again? The thought is paralyzing.
“Fuck it.”
Dean’s lips connect with mine, and it’s like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold rainy day. All the noise in my head stops. The tension in my shoulders starts to melt away as he pries my mouth open with his. He kisses me hard, pushing my head into the mattress, as if he’s trying to engrave himself on me.
I whimper as he glides his tongue across mine. Dean gives me more of his weight. His hard cock pulses where it’s pressed into my stomach. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking them in place. My hips move of their own accord as desire floods my system.
Tiny fireworks explode, the pleasurable sparks falling over my clit as I rub against his dick. It feels so good, even with layers of clothes between us. Dean grinds his hips into me, putting more pressure right where I want it most. I can feel my orgasm coming on at an embarrassing rate. Heat spreads throughout my body, warming me like the glow of the sun after a thunderstorm. I can feel it consuming me, pulling me down into a euphoric void.
My chest shakes with a moan, the crest of my release just beginning. Dean tears himself away from me, taking all the bliss with him. My almost-orgasm shatters like a porcelain vase, falling into pieces around me. I want to cry.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask, not bothering to hide how annoyed I am.
Dean stands above me, right next to the bed. His face is a mix of carnality and resolve as calloused palm meets my cheek.
“Tell me you’ll marry me. Tell me you’ll stay with me.”
“What?”
“If you want to come, tell me you’ll marry me.”
“You’re fucking kidding me?”
The buzzing in my brain switches from ecstasy to rage. Who does he think he is? And who the hell does something so mean?
“You know I’m not, bluebird,” Dean says, his hand coming beneath my jaw.
His fingertips squeeze my cheeks. He’s holding me like he owns me. And I love it. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“No,” I spit.
Dean quirks an eyebrow. “No?”
I hold his gaze, not willing to let him see how affected I am by him.
“Guess you need some more convincing.”
He removes his hand from my face, down to the waistband of my leggings. In one swift move he rips them from my body, taking my cotton panties along for the ride. Cool air hits my skin and goosebumps erupt all over my body while my nipples harden to peaks beneath my shirt. They strain against the soft fabric. Not that Dean notices because he can’t take his eyes off my pussy.
Dean drops to his knees. His mouth makes a noise I can’t name. Something between a growl and a moan. I feel my cunt getting wetter and wetter with every minute he sits there staring like I’m a national fucking treasure.
I’m not prepared for the moment he leans forward and gives a small, teasing lick. Pleasure hits me like lightning. Every nerve ending in my body comes to life. My throat catches on a sob. He wraps his hands around my thighs, pinching the skin and landing first face into me. He goes feral, licking all over, leaving no place untouched.
My hands go to his head, tangling my fingers in his hair. I grind my hips into his face, pushing him down at the same time. The friction feels so fucking good.
“I’m so close,” I whisper.
And immediately regret it. Dean pulls his face and hands away so quick, just leaving me on the edge. Annoyance upgrades to anger. I flex my fists as the bliss slowly drains from my body.
Dean meets my eyes, and I don’t like what I see. He’s enjoying this way too much.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“Fuck off,” I hiss.
I’m not ready to make that choice and he knows it. Dean tsks at me. As if he’s chastising a child. He grabs my thighs, pushing my knees towards my head. I hold my breath, wanting so badly to come. Keeping his beautiful hazel eyes on me, he dips his down and flicks his tongue over my clit again.
All the bliss from earlier rushes back like a tidal wave, only stronger. Harder to fight off. I wail. Dean slaps a hand over my mouth, the pain only pushes me further in the abyss. I don’t warn him as I climb closer to my destination. My pussy clamps down, so close to exploding when he suddenly pulls back again. I feel like I’m on a goddamn teeter totter and it’s really starting to piss me off.
“If you keep doing that, this will be the last time you ever taste me.”
He climbs up my body. Dean kisses me hard, forcing the taste of my ghost of an orgasm on my tongue, which only turns me on more.
“You can stop this anytime, bluebird.”
Dean pulls back, just enough to look me in the eye.
“This is coercion,” I reply.
A rough chuckle falls from his throat. “No, this is a claiming.”
His hard cock enters me in one thrust. I never even noticed him taking his sweatpants off. I was too focused on the man himself.
“Fuuuuuck,” I groan.
Dean’s hot breath tickles my ear. “Repeat after me: I love you and I promise to stay by your side forever.”
My brain is so frazzled, so full of static from rocking back and forth on the cliff. Dean’s thrusts become harder, hitting all the right spots.
Forget fireworks, this feels more like an atomic bomb going off. I can feel the tingly euphoria all the way down to the soles of my feet.
“Say it.”
His dick swells inside me. If I were in my right mind, I’d wonder if I could beat him at his own game. But my brain is thinking of nothing but a release.
“Juliette,” he growls. “Say it.”
“F-fine. I love you, Dean, and I’ll stay by your side forever.”
He shakes above me. His movements becoming more and more powerful. Unintelligible words fall from my mouth. I have no idea what I’m promising, but that’s a problem for future Juliette.
A tornado of bliss hits me and my pussy floods from my orgasm, coating me and Dean. He fucks me through it and the almost-pain somehow makes it better.
I feel his dick stiffen inside me as he tenses above me. He groans, calling my name as he fills me with his come. I wrap my arms around his quaking body, holding him through his release.
I don’t know how long we lay there before we finally make it to the shower and bed. What I do know is I’ve never felt more at peace than I have with Dean tonight.
The sound of my alarm rouses me from sleep. My head is still drowsy, needing to shake off last night’s rest just a little more. Dean made me come so many times it gave me a headache. But I guess that’s a good problem to have.
I slap my phone. Cracking an eye open, I glance at the screen. It’s nine-thirty—time for my meds. Dean’s heavy arms are wrapped around my waist. Leaving this warm, comforting spot is not something I want to do. But I know myself well enough to realize that if I don’t take them now, I’ll forget.
Dragging myself out of bed, I head to Dean’s bathroom. My meds sit in his towel cabinet. I yawn as I squeeze the top and open the bottle—only to find one pill.
“Fuck.”
I’m wide awake now. I forgot to order a refill, and running out of my meds is not my idea of fun. It’s happened a few times before. The days I missed my meds were unbearable. I was always sad or angry. Nothing in between.
Swallowing the last pill, I take the bottle back to bed and grab my phone. I dial the number to my pharmacy in Adare.
“Hello,”
“Hi, this is Juliette Gray,” I hate the way that name feels. “I need to order a refill.”
“Do you have a prescription number?”
“Yeah, 363738.”
I hear her typing on her computer. Her nails must be long for the clacking to be so loud.
“You don’t have any more refills. You need to make an appointment with your doctor for another prescription.”
Double fuck.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Have your doctor send over a new prescription, and I’ll gladly fill it for you.” Her Irish accent thickens as she gets angrier. “But I can’t do that with what you have. Sorry.”
She hangs up before I can say another word.
“What the fuck.”
A frustrated grunt leaves me.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asks.
I turn to look at him. “Fuck, didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“What happened?”
He sits up, leaning over and resting his head on my shoulder.
“I’m out of meds and I can’t get a refill.”
“Why?”
“The prescription expired, and I have to set up an appointment with Eva to get a new one.”
“Eva?”
“My therapist.”
“Okay, call her and get an appointment for today. I can take you now that I’ve got baby.”
“She’s hard to get an appointment with. It’ll be especially difficult since she just got back from a vacation with her husband. But I’ll text her.”
He kisses my bare skin as I type out a message to Eva. She responds almost immediately. My heart sinks.
“She’s booked,” I sigh. “Her only appointment is at ten on Thursday, and that’s the day of?—”
“My court date,” he finishes. “That’s okay, babe. You need this medication. Get the appointment. I can handle the court date.”
“You sure?”
Dean nods. As much as I want to support him, he’s right. I need this medication. This time, I have to put myself first.
“But only on one condition.”
“Oh geez, what now?”
He leans over me, reaching into his nightstand. Dean pulls out a little velvet box. My heart races, like a horse at the start of a track. The moment he opens it, a beautiful marquise sapphire sits atop a band encrusted with diamonds.
“You have to wear my ring.”
“When did you buy that?” I ask. “I just agreed to marry you hours ago. How did you have the time?”
Dean looks me straight in the eyes. “I’ve been carrying this ring around for six years, Bluebird. I bought it the day everything fell apart. I wanted to propose that night.”
I hold out my hand. He slips the ring onto my left hand quickly, like he’s afraid I’ll change my mind. My eyes blur with tears as I stare down at it. Reality starts to hit me. I’m going to marry Dean. It’s not just a silly teenage dream anymore. No—it’s real. And nothing has ever felt more right. I’m the future Mrs. Walsh.