30. Rosie
30
ROSIE
Cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom, I sort through a box of papers I should’ve cleared out a long time ago but held on to for stupid sentimental reasons.
God, if Daire ever saw this stuff, he’d realize how obsessed I was with him as a girl.
Mrs. Rosie Hendricks is scribbled on page after page of notebook paper. I take those out and set them aside. It’s ridiculous that I lugged all this stuff with me to college, but stupidly, I wasn’t ready to throw any of it away—not even when I hated his guts.
I pull a yearbook out and flip through it until I find my photo. I couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, and I was sporting two missing front teeth and pigtails. Daire is easy to find. I’d recognize that blond hair and those blue eyes anywhere. Even as a little boy, he was beyond cute. Young Rosie had great taste. Older Rosie? She still has great taste.
But damn if our relationship isn’t complicated.
This was a short-term arrangement, and we vowed not to get feelings involved. But day by day, it’s getting harder to remember that.
With a huff, I close the yearbook and go back to sorting through the box.
I lift a small stack of journals out of the way, then flip through random pictures.
A drawing at the bottom catches my eye. I had to have been about fourteen when I drew it. I’m not an artist, and I don’t pretend to be, but I went through a phase where I thought I might become a fashion designer.
My favorite item of clothing to draw?
Wedding dresses.
Particularly dresses I envisioned myself wearing on the day I married Daire.
God, I was delusional. Like most teen girls, I suppose.
My bedroom door swings open, and Daire bursts in unannounced, scaring the shit out of me. I let out a scream and scramble to collect the papers scattered around me. Hastily, and with my heart beating out of my chest, I stuff as many as I can into the box. As I’m grasping at them, one of the drawings goes flying through the air and lands at his feet.
I slam the lid back on the box, panting.
The drawing is the least of my worries. I definitely don’t want him to discover my journals or the pages upon pages of Mrs. Daire Hendricks written in a dozen different ways. In print, in cursive, with hearts over the i’s, you name it.
Bending, he scoops the piece of paper up, studying it with a wrinkled brow. “What’s this?”
“Do you always barge into people’s rooms without knocking?”
He lowers the page and arches a brow at me. “When I’m lonely and want to snuggle my wife, yes.”
My breath catches.
We haven’t shared a bed since his dad and brother left. He tried that first night they were gone, but I told him it wasn’t a good idea. Not because I didn’t want him to sleep with me, but because I wanted it too much. It sounds stupid now that I think about it.
“And clearly,” he continues when I say nothing, “you couldn’t sleep either. Now, what is this?” He holds the paper out for me to see.
I slide the box under my bed and stand.
“A wedding dress,” I mutter, tugging on the hem of my t-shirt nervously, as if he hasn’t seen every inch of me already.
“A wedding dress,” he parrots. “Why?”
I shrug. “I had this insane idea when I was a teenager that I’d design my own wedding dress one day. That was one I liked, so I kept it.”
For a long, silent moment, all he does is study the photo. Finally, he holds it out to me.
“You could still do that, you know.”
I slide the drawing into my bedside table drawer. Right next to my vibrator. Very appropriate.
“Do what?” I turn back around to face him.
“Design your own wedding dress.”
With a sigh, I yank the covers back and slide into bed. “Maybe one day.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re having a wedding this summer. It was one of your requests, remember?”
I stare up at the ceiling, my heart sinking. I don’t even balk when he gets in bed beside me. “We don’t actually have to do that. I know this isn’t real.” I close my eyes and breathe through the prickle behind my eyes. God, it’s crushing to say that out loud. “Knowing my mom, she probably has everything booked already and is just waiting to spring a date on us. But designing a dress takes time and… it’s not worth it, okay?”
He huffs a harsh breath. “You mean I’m not worth it,” he says, his voice low and strained.
I turn my head to face him. “You’re the one who told me not to fall in love with you. I’m just following your rule, Daire.”
He rolls to his side, propping his head in his hand so he can look down at me. “Fuck that stupid rule.”
My heart pounds out a rhythm in my chest, but I maintain my cool, rolling my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’ve been celibate for months and you’re horny. I get it. You’d probably fuck a cactus at this point if it wouldn’t hurt. I know this has an expiration date and?—”
He puts his hand over my mouth. “Fuck what I said before. You and me?” His Adam’s apple bobs, eyes skating over my face with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “We’re the real deal. We always were.”
My eyes burn, and my heart threatens to burst right out of my chest.
What he’s saying feels too good to be true.
I grasp his wrist and slide his hand away from my face. “Daire?—”
He slants his mouth over mine, silencing me.
I close my eyes and melt into the mattress as he comes to rest over top of me.
So good, so good, so good. They’re the only two words my brain can conjure.
He fits his leg between mine, his knee pressed right up against my aching pussy.
“You know I’m right,” he murmurs between kisses. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see. If you want me to stop, I will, but fuck, Rosie, I don’t want to. I want you so bad.” With a hum, he brushes his nose against the column of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine despite how hot I feel all over.
It’s what I’ve always wanted.
Him.
But along with desire, I’m filled with a sense of terror.
I finally have him back in my life, and as much as I want more, I’m scared of taking that step and losing him.
Losing him once was heartbreaking.
Losing him twice?
Devastating.
I exhale, my breath shaky.
He hovers above me, those denim blue eyes regarding me so sincerely, like he can read my mind.
“Baby,” he murmurs.
I close my eyes at the tone of his voice—the understanding.
“I’m not going anywhere.” The assurance is genuine, pleading. “Not again. Do you feel this?” He grabs my hand and presses it against his rapidly beating heart. “It’s yours. No one else’s.” He cups my cheek, inhaling the breath I exhale. “I love you.”
The world around me goes silent.
I no longer hear my fan whirring in the corner of the room or the sound of our mingled breathing. Not even the rustle of the sheets reaches my ears.
Daire Hendricks loves me.
My husband loves me.
Love. Love. Love.
Those words echo like a pinball through my skull. My heart bursts at the notion, my lungs burning with the need to respond.
“Say it again,” I beg on a whisper.
He lowers over me, hands braced on the mattress on either side of my shoulders like he’s doing a pushup.
“I love you.” He enunciates each word, focus fixed intently on my face, making sure I don’t miss it.
I and love and you.
Three of the simplest words in the English language, but when they’re put together like that, an entire universe exists in them.
“You love me?”
“That’s what I said, Rosie girl.”
“Have you ever told another girl you love her?”
My stomach twists while I wait for him to respond. I don’t know what makes me ask it. Maybe a sprinkle of jealousy, but mostly curiosity.
“Never.” His eyes, shining with honesty, never stray from mine. “It was always meant to be you. I’m sorry I was such an idiot.”
I giggle, the bed jostling with my laughter, but Daire never wavers above me. The chain around his neck dangles close to my face. I grab it and gently pull him closer.
“We were both idiots.” Arching up, I close the distance between our mouths and kiss him.
When I pull away, he groans, the sound rumbling through us both and sending sparks skittering down my spine.
“By the way,” I whisper, biting my lip, “I love you too.”
Always have and always will.
He brushes his nose along the curve of my cheek. “Are we doing this?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
With that single word, whatever leash he had on himself snaps.
He kisses me with unrestrained passion. Pushing my t-shirt up and over my head until I’m bare to him, he peppers kisses all along my chest and stomach. Then he settles between my thighs.
“D-Daire, no.” It’s a breathless plea. I give him a gentle shove and he rolls over, taking me with him so I’m on top.
“Don’t want me between those gorgeous thighs tonight, baby?” He grins up at me, crossing his arms behind his head.
“Maybe later.” I grin back. “But I want to do something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.”
“What’s that?” His tone is curious, but by the sparkle in his eye, it’s obvious he already has a pretty good idea.
I rub my hands over his warm, muscular chest. He’s hard everywhere. “I could bounce a quarter off these things if I wanted to.” I flick one of his prominent abdominal muscles.
He laughs, the whole bed jostling with the movement. The motion slides me farther down his body. My thin cotton sleep shorts do next to nothing to protect me from the giant bulge in his pants.
It takes my breath away.
Nerves bubble violently inside me.
I’m certainly not inexperienced when it comes to sex, but this is Daire. The man I’ve loved all my life. That little factor changes it all.
He grips my ass with both of his big hands, rolling me against him. I hiss out a breath, suddenly certain I could come just like this.
“Daire.” His name is a whimper. “You’re distracting me.”
Sitting up, he takes my lips in a breathless kiss. “Good,” he murmurs, cupping the back of my neck.
His eyes are heavy-lidded, his lashes enviously long.
I scoot farther down his body, yanking his pants and boxer briefs down as I go.
His hard cock springs free. I whimper at the sight. It’s been too long, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been imagining what this thing would feel like since I burst into his room that first night.
He’s long and thick, and the piercing on the head glimmers in the low light.
I bite my lip, both in anticipation and trepidation, and wrap my hand around the base, stroking once. Twice.
Daire groans, crooking his elbow over his eyes. “For the love of God, Rosie, if you keep looking at my dick like it’s an ice cream sundae on the hottest day of July, I’m going to explode.”
I huff a laugh, my breath fanning across the head of his cock.
“Rosie,” he groans. “That isn’t helping.”
I swipe my tongue out, licking around the piercing, and in response, his hips buck off the mattress and a low curse flies from his lips.
“Is that helping?”
He lifts his arm and stares down at me with hooded eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”
“Mm,” I hum. “We can’t have that. I’d like to keep you around.”
I lower my mouth over him and continue until he hits the back of my throat and I gag.
“Fuck, Rosie.” He fists my hair with both hands, gently guiding me up and down. As he sets the pace, I moan around him, making sure he knows I approve.
As I suck. I dig my fingers into his thighs, more than likely leaving half-moon indentions from my nails, but if it hurts, he doesn’t complain.
I take him as far as I can once again, his piercing hitting the back of my throat. My core clenches in anticipation. It’s impossible not to fantasize about what that thing will feel like inside me.
Daire brushes his fingers along my neck, gathering my hair away from my face.
When he murmurs “pretty girl,” I think I might come on the spot.
This man turns me on and fills me with comfort in a way that no other guy has ever been able to.
Because he was always meant to be yours.
As that little voice in my head encourages me, I look up at him, finding his eyes hooded as he watches me. The muscles in his abdominals flex. He’s holding himself back.
I smile around his length, then release him, a string of saliva clinging to my mouth. He groans at the sight, his eyes somehow getting heavier.
I wipe it away, tilting my head to the side. “Why are you holding back?”
His eyes widen with surprise, like he didn’t expect me to pick up on it. “I’m not.”
I grin. “Liar. Fuck my mouth like you want to.”
He closes his eyes, breathing out slowly. “Are you sure?”
I nod, clenching my abdominal muscles to stave off the desire that courses through me at the idea of it. “Give it to me. I can take it.”
He sits up, forcing me to crawl backward.
“Stay like that,” he orders.
“On all fours?”
“Yeah, baby.” He strokes my jaw and rises up on his knees. “Fuck, your lips are all puffy already.” He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. “So beautiful. Now open up.”
I do as he says, keeping eye contact with him. Gripping the base of his cock, he guides it into my waiting mouth.
Then, with a hand in my hair, he guides my speed and picks up the pace. When I choke, he pulls back.
Peering up at him, I shake my head.
I can take it, I say with my eyes.
And he gives it to me, not holding anything back this time.
I revel in it—in making him lose control like this.
When he pulls back a second time, I whimper, but the sound dies off as he gently pulls me up and covers my mouth with his.
“If we don’t stop, then I’m going to come in your mouth.”
Breathless, I say, “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Next time.” With a quick peck to my lips, he grasps me and lays me down flat on the bed. Holding himself above me with one hand, he yanks my shorts down and off my legs, then tosses them aside. “Are you wet, Rosie?”
I nod, biting my lip as my pussy clenches with anticipation. I’ve been waiting so long for this.
With one finger, he finds my core, letting out a low hiss. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”
Arching my back, I cup his cheek. “Please.”
Please, fuck me.
Please, love me.
Please, never leave me.
“Are you on birth control?”
With my heart in my throat, I nod in answer.
“Do you want me to wear a condom?”
His thoughtfulness floods me with warmth. Finding my voice, I say, “I trust you.”
In response, he lets out a shuddering breath and kisses me.
Giving him my trust might be even more powerful than giving him my love.
Gripping his cock at the base, he guides it to my entrance and pushes in only an inch or so. In unison, we moan. I might have been embarrassed of the sound if it wasn’t so obvious that his feelings are just as intense.
“Jesus, Rosie.” He pulls back out, then slowly pushes in again. This time a bit farther.
The piercing on the head of his cock feels foreign but strangely good.
“Daire,” I practically beg, clutching at his arms. “Stop teasing me.”
With a chuckle, he pushes in all the way. I gasp at the fullness and tighten my hold, my nails biting into his forearms.
He rocks his hips in and out, tortuously slow. “Look at the way you take me. Your pussy was made for me.”
Dizzy with desire, I follow his line of sight. The vision of us connected this way is enough to cause fireworks to erupt in my chest.
“I love you.” He kisses me.
Pressing his forehead to mine, he rocks gently in and out of me. The rhythm is at odds with the way he fucked my mouth, but it’s not any less erotic. This is what we need for our first time. Soft and slow.
“You feel so good, baby.”
I bite my lip, at a loss for words, let alone thoughts. I’m simply a big ball of emotions. This moment is too intense, but in the best way.
With his thumb, he finds my clit, pressing in slow, steady circles that quickly send me hurtling toward climax.
Curse this man for knowing exactly how to play my body. Why him when no one else could?
But as quickly as the impending orgasm barrels down on me, it fades.
Though I hide my disappointment, he knows me too damn well. “Let go, Rosie,” he murmurs. “Get outta your head. Eyes on me.”
I do as he says, pushing all thoughts but him from my mind. As I focus on the need in his eyes and the way he moves over me, that sensation quickly builds again. And then I’m careening over the edge before I can get too in my head about it again.
“Beautiful. So beautiful,” he croons, lazily tracing my body with both hands.
I feel like Jell-O in his arms.
Without a word, he pulls out and turns me around so I’m on my stomach. Grabbing my hips, he props me up and enters me from behind.
“Oh, God,” I cry out, clawing at the sheets when he fills me in the most delicious way.
I can feel him everywhere, and that piercing hits a pleasure button inside me I didn’t even know existed.
He picks up the pace, pulling curses from my lips. It’s not frantic by any means, but it is harder than before.
Impossibly, another orgasm builds.
I close my eyes, not thinking, just feeling.
When it hits me, I cry out and fall flat to the mattress. As I come down, his hand is warm on my back, steady, a reassurance that he’s got me.
“I’m right here,” he whispers, like he knows I need to hear the words.
His big body covers me from behind, the motion pressing him impossibly deep inside me. With a kiss on my shoulder, he gently pulls me up until my back is to his front.
Hand on my throat, he holds me flush against his body.
His thrusts are gentle once more. My whole body feels like it’s shaking, though it could be that he’s completely rattled my brain with pleasure.
When he pulls out, I whimper at the loss.
But before I can complain, he guides me to turn around and lie on my back once more. Then he’s pushing back in. My body welcomes him eagerly, used to the size now. Gripping my legs, he pushes them up toward my head.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp.
Good. It’s so good.
He clenches his teeth, his necklace dangling above my face. “I’m close,” he groans. “Do you think you can come again?”
I whip my head from side to side. There’s no way.
His response is a grin. Dipping low, he kisses me. “Challenge accepted.”
I should’ve known better.
He reaches over to the drawer where I stuffed my drawing earlier and rummages around blindly.
“I figured you’d have one of these,” he says, straightening and holding my vibrator up triumphantly.
Turning it on, he presses it against my clit.
I nearly fly off the bed like he’s exorcising demons from my body.
The sensation is… too much. Too good. Too intense.
“Oh, yeah.” He smiles, pleased with himself, and thrusts deeper. “You’ll come again.”
In a matter of seconds, he works me into a frenzy.
Somehow, when the orgasm shatters through me, it’s even more intense than the other two.
I’m exhausted.
Completely spent.
Turning the vibrator off, he tosses it aside, and then he’s gripping my hips and pounding into me.
The sounds he makes as he comes… I want to remember them forever. I’ve never witnessed anything hotter than the sound of his moans as he tumbles over the edge.
He pulls out of me slowly, watching me as I watch him, both of us catching our breath.
I’m simultaneously the most exhausted and the most energized I’ve ever been.
With a long exhale, Daire lies beside me, pulling me against his body. His lips press against my neck in a gentle kiss.
He doesn’t say anything and neither do I.
We don’t need words.
There isn’t a single one that could encapsulate what exactly that was.
I close my eyes and drift off to sleep to the sound of his steady breathing.
I awake only a few hours later to the sound of Sammy’s cries, and truthfully, I still couldn’t be happier.