Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
ELIZABETH
J ayson goes down on one knee, and all I feel is panic. Overwhelming panic.
I frantically pull at his hands. “Jayson, what are you doing?”
“Elizabeth Penelope Fairchild. I have loved you since the first grade. The happiest day of my life was when you said yes. Yes to us. Yes to me. Yes to everything. My heart is not whole without you. My life is not complete without you in it. In the tradition of all our next times, I want to forever promise you my heart and my love. Will you wear my promise ring, knowing it represents my promise to you for our happily ever after?”
A promise ring. He’s not proposing. I’m going to kill him.
Several sighs erupt around us from various girls.
Keith asks, “Does he do this stuff all the time?”
Beth exclaims, “That is so freaking romantic!”
And then I hear Celeste. “Why don’t you do stuff like that for me?”
Jayson winks at me and stands up. The necklace he dangles between his fingers is a simple gold chain. Hanging on it is a thin gold band with four small, red inset rubies. He unclasps the fastener and loops it around my neck, tucking the necklace next to the rose quartz heart pendant I’ve worn every day since he gave it to me.
“It’s engraved,” he says, showing me the script on the inside of the band.
In tiny cursive letters are the words: All Our Next Times .
“It’s lovely. Thank you.”
And it is.
I’m still going to kill him.
He grabs my face between both hands and swoops in with a kiss to end all kisses. Several cheers erupt around us, and I blush in embarrassment. I hate being the center of attention.
“I’ve got another surprise.” He twirls me under his arm like a ballerina. “Be back in a little while,” he tells the guys.
My gaze cuts to Ryder and Julien. They look as shell-shocked as I feel.
“Jayson, wait?—”
He hurries me out of the room and into the elevator.
“Where are we going?” I ask as soon as the doors slide closed.
“Patience.”
“Jayson—”
He kisses me to shut me up.
The doors whoosh open on the third floor.
“Up you go.”
I’m lifted bridal style in his arms.
“Jayson, what?—”
He cuts me off again with another hard kiss.
I’m both exasperated and turned on.
“Will you stop doing that?”
“Doing what? Kiss you?”
He kisses me a third time before lowering me to my feet.
“A hotel room?” I ask when we stop in front of a door.
“Sort of.”
Sort of?
He fishes out a card key from his dress slacks. Swiping it, there’s a click and a green light. When he hip bumps the door open, I’m greeted with a path of red rose petals scattered all over the floor, and he’s draped my favorite fairy lights from wall to wall.
“Dance with me?”
Taking out his phone from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket, he swipes a few times and presses play.
I’m so confused.
“You couldn’t dance with me downstairs?”
“Not the way I want to.”
“How do you want to dance with me?”
Jayson doesn’t answer me. He shows me.
He slips off his jacket, followed by his cufflinks and bow tie. Never taking his moonlight eyes off me, he undoes the buttons on his shirt, each one popping through the buttonholes like cannon fire exploding inside me.
I can’t help my body’s response to seeing him undress.
He opens his shirt, and my hungry gaze goes to his muscled, tanned chest and travels down to his Adonis belt. I stand hypnotized as he walks around me, stopping when he’s at my back.
I feel the heat of his lips against my shoulder when he pulls the zipper of my dress down. The flowy material cascades down to the floor and pools at my feet. His calloused hands paint my skin with his fingertips, tracing the line of my spine from neck to lumbar.
Coming back around, he kneels and lifts each of my feet, one at time, to help me step out of my dress.
“We’ll keep the shoes on,” he says and kisses the triangle of lace that covers my pubis.
My stomach muscles contract when he hooks his fingers in my panties and slides them down my legs.
He tips his face back. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”
I’m on fire, throbbing with need by the time he kisses his way up my body.
“Now for that dance.”
He takes me in his arms, and it feels so good to be pressed skin to skin.
I’m a tactile person, and I love the dichotomy of our bodies. Hard and soft. Masculine and feminine.
“I love you, Liz,” he says, turning me in his arms.
He skims a hand down my stomach and between my thighs, whispering seductive words in my ear, then slips one finger inside me, then another, fucking me slowly, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit.
When his other hand moves to my breast, teasing my nipple with sharp tugs, a myriad of sensations catapult me into a ridiculously quick orgasm. My back arches, head thrown back against the dip of his shoulder, and I cry out his name. When my legs buckle, Jayson throws me onto the bed. Rose petals scatter and float back down around me.
He settles between my legs, laving my breasts with his tongue and mouth.
“Again,” he says, pushing my thighs apart and deep tonguing my pussy.
I’m floating on a cloud, racing higher and higher with each thrust of his tongue. It takes less than five minutes before I climax again. And he’s still not through with me.
“Again.”
I moan, so drunk with desire, over-sensitized, and thoroughly sated from my last two orgasms, that I don’t know if I have another one in me to give.
My voice slurs. “Jayson, I can’t.”
He nips love bites between the juncture of my thigh and hip.
“Yes, you can,” he says.
He holds me down and sucks my clit with hard, punishing pulls.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
“ Jayson! ”
I climax once again with a long, delirious moan.
“Again.”
Holy shit.
The fourth orgasm breaks me, and I think I black out.
By the time he’s through with me, I’m barely conscious. Not having enough energy to lift my head, I reach down and thread my fingers through his hair.
“I think you broke me.”
The deep rumble of his laughter vibrates through me. “Best dance ever.”
Yes, it was.