Chapter 29 #2
My thumb sweeps back a strand of hair clinging to her forehead, and I drive in slow and deep, savoring the way her body yields to me. I dip my nose to her hairline, trying to fill my lungs with her scent as I breathe her in.
“Show me how much you love me, Patton.”
As if her whispered words strike a match inside me, I thrust deeper, but keep my pace unhurried, drawing out her pleasure without overwhelming her.
She’s carrying my child, so I move with intention, grinding into her just right, making sure every roll of my hip is deliberate without being painful.
And though I know she loves a little pain with her pleasure, we both agreed there will be time for that after the baby is here, safe and sound with us.
My teeth graze her jaw before my mouth trails over her shoulder, leaving love bites in its wake. With every thrust into her and every blemish I leave over her skin, I plan to make her feel me inside her all the way to next week.
My hand clamps the back of her thigh, lifting and anchoring her as I drive inside. The slight change in position makes her gasp, and my control dangles by a thread.
I glide through her only to draw back and drive forward with precision and a goal in mind—to nudge that spot deep inside her that always has her shattering around me so beautifully.
Her eyes glisten as her hands come up to cradle my face. It feels like she’s holding a lot more than me physically. Like she’s holding my heart and soul, my entire damn existence in her cupped hands.
“Nisha . . .” My voice sounds raspy even to my own ears. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much. I’ll never stop. Not in this life and not in the next.”
“I know,” she whispers, her nails gently dragging down my back, sparking heat inside me even as she squeezes her lids shut. A single tear slips free before she peppers kisses along my collarbone. “I know you won’t . . . just like I could never stop loving you.”
I find her lips again, our kiss pulling us into a binding spell, making me moan into her mouth. My hand trails down to her belly reverently, protectively, as I grind deep inside her, brushing that spot that has her entire body contracting.
Her fingernails bite my flesh as her hips come up to meet mine. Her voice shakes as she throws her head back, revealing the length of her neck. “I’m going to come, Patton.”
I chase my own orgasm as I roll my hips, each thrust inside her making my vision blur. “Come for me, baby.”
Two seconds later, she’s screaming my name, her body clenching as her walls flutter around me, pulling me in deeper and milking me for everything I’ve got.
I hold her flush against me, burying myself in her like I’m trying to brand her. And then my entire body is tensing, a spark igniting at the bottom of my spine and zipping through me like lightning.
In what feels like a succession of explosions, I shatter inside her, spilling into the woman who owns every molecule in my body.
I fall onto the mattress, pulling her with me in a tangle of arms and legs, holding her until our breaths even out.
Minutes go by as we stare at each other, her fingernails gently tracing paths down my back while my fingers glide down the inked lines of her tattoos.
Neither of us says a word until my eyes find something I hadn’t noticed before—two pairs of angel wings hidden between the stars and flowers.
My hand halts. How did I miss this?
“I got them soon after each one . . .” she whispers, reading my thoughts.
Each miscarriage, she means.
I clench my jaw, nodding. I should have been there.
Her fingers run through my scruff and, as if sensing my turmoil, she murmurs, “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
I brush my lips along the inside of her wrist. “I’ll be here. Always.”
We continue the gentle caresses, lost in our own thoughts as we gaze at each other, until her soft voice breaks the silence. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
She rubs her lips together, hesitant. “Were there others?”
I open my mouth to answer, but she waves me off. “You know what? You don’t have to tell me. You’d have been well within your rights to have been with others. I mean, I’ve seen pictures . . . and all sorts of women. But it’s honestly none of my business.”
I chuckle. “The first year after you changed your number and told me not to reach out, right after we finalized the divorce, yeah . . . there were a few. They were women I thought I could lose myself in, but no one I ever remotely wanted to be serious with. No one was you. No one even compared. So I just . . . stopped altogether.”
Her brows knit. “What do you mean, ‘stopped altogether’?”
“I haven’t been with anyone in five years.”
She blinks before slowly rising, like sitting upright will help her understand this conversation in a way lying down could never. “Five years? You were, what, celibate for five years before me?”
I shrug, looking up at her from my spot on the pillow. “Yes.”
“But what about those photos I saw? All those women who looked cozy with you at the premieres and galas?”
I smile. “Geez, you were obsessed with me, weren’t you? And here I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
“Patton.”
“They were nothing. Just dates my publicist encouraged me to take to stir up buzz.”
“So . . . in the past five years, you haven’t even kissed someone?”
“Aside from when I kissed you after the taekwondo tournament last year? Nope.”
“But . . . but what if I never came around? What if things didn’t work out between us, despite your plan?”
“Then I would have waited. I don’t know how long—two years, ten years, my whole life? It doesn’t matter because I didn’t want a replacement, Little Borealis; I wanted you.”
Her lips part, and for a moment, she just stares at me, like she’s caught between disbelief and reverence. “But that’s . . . crazy, Patton.”
“Yeah, maybe. But so is love.”
She’s quiet for another long moment before she clears her throat. “I’ve been wondering . . . about the nursery.”
“Yeah?”
“Where should we have it?” She licks her lips. “What I mean is, do you think we should have one at my place and one at yours, or . . .?”
I suppress my smile, knowing my girl well enough to know she wants me to fill in the third option because she’s too proud to do it herself. “Or we could just have it at your place.”
Her shoulders slump, and she gives me a resigned nod. “Right. Because you might move back to L.A. again.”
My brows furrow. “Baby, do you know why I flew to L.A. last week?”
“I figured it was something to do with work.”
I take her hand, brushing my lips across her knuckles. “I went there to sign some paperwork. I put my L.A. condo on the market.”
“You . . . what?”
“I told you I was all-in. And considering the fact that I’ll be putting my San Jose home on the market, too, I might be homeless soon.”
Her fingers find her lips as she stares down at me in shock. “Patton, is this your very roundabout way of asking me if you can move in with me?”
I grin. “Baby, I’m selling two properties, not exactly being subtle here.”
She blinks rapidly. “You’re really doing this? You’re choosing us over everything else?”
“You’re not a choice or an option for me, Neesh. You’re a necessity.”
She swallows, eyes brimming with unshed tears as she lets my words sink in. When she looks back at me, a teasing smile plays on her face. “What if . . . what if I’d moved on with someone else?”
My jaw tightens, the thought of someone else touching her making me see red.
I pull her back down to the mattress, rolling us so she’s pinned under me. “Then I would have made his life very, very uncomfortable until he decided you weren’t worth the trouble.”
She giggles, thinking I’m joking.
I’m not.