Chapter 36
I drag my tongue slowly through Honey’s soaked center, savoring every sweet inch of her.
It’s been too long, my friend.
She squeals when I twist my tongue around her clit, her hands fisting the sheets as she squirms away from my touch. I don’t let her, though.
I watch her reaction to every move I make, licking her in lazy circles with the flat of my tongue before sucking her clit gently into my mouth.
Every time she tries to grind against my face, I pin her hips down harder with my good hand and slow my tongue even more, teasing her until she’s whimpering and cursing into the sheets.
Can’t blame her. This is the fourth orgasm I’ve given her since we got to her apartment.
“Zach. Please.” Her words come out in short, exasperated gasps, as her fingers tighten painfully in my hair.
I don’t give in. Instead, I push my tongue inside her, fucking her with slow, wet strokes as my nose grinds against her clit. She clenches around me, flooding my mouth with her honeycomb taste. I groan against her because she tastes so fucking good; I don’t ever want to stop.
My wrist still throbs, and I should probably ice it as per Craig’s instruction, but I’m busy. Besides, I’m resting my fingers tonight, so that’s got to count for something.
When she comes, I feel it ripple through her.
Her thighs lock around my head, and her back arches as she cries out into one of the many pillows on her bed.
Her pussy is pulsing against my tongue, but I don’t stop.
I keep licking her through every wave, drawing out her orgasm until she’s shaking and making these soft, wrecked little sounds that make my cock throb painfully against the mattress.
Only then do I pull back, my lips slick with her, and breathe hard against her inner thigh. I give her maybe five seconds before I flip her onto her stomach in one smooth motion.
She huffs out a breathless laugh, but the sound melts into a moan when I press my mouth to the base of her spine and work my way up to her neck.
As I nibble at her ear, my cock nudges between her ass cheeks, and she pushes back against me.
“Zach...” she breathes.
“Yeah, baby.” I murmur against her skin, reaching around to find her hand on the mattress.
“I need you.”
I thread our fingers together, and the second I feel the cool metal of her ring pressing against my palm, I go still.
Mine. Forever and always.
I squeeze her hand once, then I push inside her in one slow, deep thrust, and every single thought in my head disappears into pure, blinding heat.
A low groan tears from my throat as I bottom out, my forehead dropping to the back of her shoulder. Her pussy clenches around me, still fluttering from the aftershocks, and I have to bite down on her skin to stop myself from losing it right there.
“Fuck...baby,” I rasp against her neck, my voice wrecked. My injured wrist is braced beside her head, but I don’t care about the pain. All I feel is her gripping me.
I move slowly to start, dragging my cock almost all the way out before sinking back in deep, and grinding against her with every thrust. She moans into the pillow, pushing back to meet me, her fingers squeezing mine so tight the ring digs into both our palms, branding us.
Every stroke feels better than the last. The wet sound of her pussy taking me, the way her back arches, the little gasps she makes every time I hit that spot inside her—it’s driving me insane. I shift my angle slightly, fucking her deeper, and she cries out, her free hand fisting the sheets.
“That’s it,” I growl low in her ear, my lips brushing the shell of it. “Take it. Take all of me.”
I can feel her tightening around me already, building fast because she’s still sensitive from coming on my tongue. I don’t speed up. I keep the pace torturous, rolling my hips in deep, grinding circles that make her whole body shake.
I want to feel her fall apart on my cock this time and memorize exactly how she sounds when she comes with me inside her.
My good hand slides under her, finding her clit, and I rub slow, firm circles in time with my thrusts. She jerks beneath me, a sharp cry escaping her as her pussy spasms hard.
“Zach—oh God—”
“Come for me again,” I whisper roughly, kissing the side of her neck, then biting down just hard enough to make her gasp. “Let me feel it. I’ve waited months for this.”
She breaks. Her fifth orgasm hits her harder than the last. I feel her walls clamping down on me as she sobs my name into the pillow. The sensation is too much, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I thrust deep a few more times, chasing it, then bury myself to the hilt as my own release slams into me. Pleasure explodes down my spine, and I groan her name against her skin as I come hard inside her, filling her with pulse after pulse until I’m shaking, empty, and completely wrecked.
For a long moment, we just lie there, panting, my body covering hers, my cock still buried deep. I press soft kisses along her shoulder, my thumb stroking the back of her hand where the ring sits between us.
Eventually I ease out of her with a low groan, watching as a thick trickle of cum leaks from her and drips down onto the sheets.
She makes a soft, protesting sound at the loss, so I roll us both onto our sides, pulling her back against my chest. Her breathing is still ragged, her skin flushed and damp with sweat.
I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, placing slow, open-mouthed kisses there while my good hand gently strokes up and down her side.
“Stay right here,” I murmur against her skin. “I’ll take care of you.”
I force myself to get up and head to the small bathroom. When I find a clean washcloth, I run it under some warm water and wring it out. Then I grab a dry towel and head back to her.
When I return, she’s still on her side with this blissful smile on her face.
I climb back onto the bed and gently roll her onto her back.
“Legs open for me, baby,” I say quietly.
She obeys without hesitation, parting her thighs. She hisses a little as I start to clean her, still oversensitive, so I lean down and press a light kiss just above her mound in apology.
“Too much?” I ask.
She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Feels good... just tender. It’s been a while.”
Yeah, since the cruise.
I take my time, making sure I get every trace of us off her skin. When I’m satisfied, I fold the cloth and use the dry towel to pat her dry. Then I wipe myself down quickly before tossing both towels in the basket in the corner.
I crawl back up the bed and pull her into my arms again, tucking her head under my chin. She curls into me immediately, one leg sliding between mine, her ringed hand resting on my chest. I cover it with my bandaged hand, feeling the metal warm against our skin now.
“You okay?” I ask, brushing damp strands of hair away from her face with my fingers.
“Mhm,” she hums, pressing a lazy kiss to my collarbone. “More than okay. I’m with you.”
I kiss the top of her hair and stare at the ceiling. I don’t know how long we stay like this together, but I only bother to check the clock once Honey shifts out of the bed.
3 a.m.
She finds my jersey on the floor and quickly puts it on.
As she fans her hair out of the collar, all I see is my last name.
“Honey Evans has a really good ring to it, don’t you think?” I ask absentmindedly.
She smiles, looking at me from over her shoulder before making her way toward the bed.
“Do you want a tour?” she asks instead of getting back in the bed.
“Of the apartment?”
She nods, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Figured you might actually want to see the apartment since you kissed me straight to bed when we got here.”
I push the covers off me and get out of the bed so I’m standing in front of Honey. Even in the dark, I can find her hands, and I interlock our fingers before pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
“Lead the way, Honeycomb. There’s nothing I want more than to see the apartment you’ve been living in while I’ve been sleeping in Dax’s guest room ten minutes away.”
Her nose crinkles. “It’s probably more like fifteen minutes in traffic,” she corrects as she pulls me out the room to reveal a living room and kitchen.
Admittedly, it’s small. Smaller than anything I would’ve picked out, but it has everything Honey needs. A kitchen with her own mixer, candles scattered across the living room to help her relax, and a large desk with her laptop and a few notebooks beside it.
This is Honey when no one has any say.
“I love it,” I say, noting the framed picture of us from senior pictures in high school.
I needed to find myself first before I could find you.
“Really? You like it?” She looks around with a hopeful smile on her face.
“Yeah.” I run my hand along the kitchen counter, looking out the window at the street below. “When can I move in?”
She takes a sharp inhale in surprise.
“W—what?”
“I know I’m a big guy, but I think there’s enough room on that couch for the two of us.”
“Is that what you want?” she asks. “To move in here?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to live with my fiancée?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just—”
“I’ve been living in Dax’s guest room for four months,” I cut her off. “I kept looking at apartments and none of them felt right.” I hold her gaze. “I didn't want to pick something you didn't like. You picked this, and it’s perfect.”
She's quiet for a second. “But here—it's a little small for you, isn't it?”
I look around. At the papers on the desk. At the spice rack. At the sofa she picked out herself.
“No,” I say. “It's got you. That's all I want.”
Honey’s eyes get glassy for a second before she laughs softly.
“I love that you have seen all of this, and somehow your first thought is us.”
I cross the room, place my hands on her hips and guide her backward until the couch catches behind her knees. She drops onto it, laughing under her breath as I lean over her and press my mouth to hers.
When I lean back, she’s still breathless beneath me, her cheeks flushed as the ring catches the dim apartment light.
Suddenly, this doesn’t feel like enough anymore.
“I love you,” I say.
Her expression softens instantly. “I love you too.”
I swallow hard before sitting back on my heels. My pulse is pounding now, harder than it did before any game this season.
Then I reach for her hand, and the second my fingers close around hers, her smile falters slightly. Carefully, I slide the ring from her finger.
She goes still. “Zach. What are you—”
“Stand up for me.”
Confusion flickers across her face, but she does it anyway, letting me guide her up off the couch.
“You've already asked me—”
“I know.” I step back. Then I lower myself onto one knee on her living room floor.
Honey’s breath catches as I look up at her, clutching the ring tighter between my fingers.
“I’ve asked you before,” I admit. “Probably a hundred times if we’re being honest.” A shaky smile pulls at my mouth. “But I've never heard you actually say yes to it.”
Her eyes start shining as tears start to well.
“On the field,” I say, “you had the ring on, and I kissed you. It was everything I wanted, but it wasn't this.” I hold her gaze. “I want to do it right.”
“I get it,” I say as my thumb rubs against the ring between my fingers.
“The cruise. You leaving, moving colleges, the four months of not telling me where you were.” I shake my head slightly.
“I get why you needed it, and I’m not gonna lie and pretend it didn’t wreck me sometimes, because it did.
” I let out a breath. “There were nights I hated not knowing where you were sleeping. Whether you were okay. Whether you missed me too.”
My throat tightens.
“But watching you become this version of yourself?” I look around her apartment again briefly before finding her eyes. “Watching you build a life that’s yours because you chose it...”
I smile faintly.
“It just made me more sure.”
Her face falls.
“Sure of what?” she whispers.
“That you’re the person I want beside me for the rest of my life.”
“Zach—”
“I don’t just want the easy parts with you, Honeycomb. I want all of it. The messy parts. The scared parts. The version of you that jumped off a cliff alone because she needed to prove she could.”
A tear slips down her cheek.
“And the version that grabbed my hand on the zip line and jumped.” I smile softly. “I want every version of you.”
The apartment is completely silent now except for both of us breathing.
“I want to build things with you,” I admit. “A home. Traditions. Sunday mornings. Stupid arguments about where we’re ordering dinner from.” A small laugh leaves me. “I want whatever comes next, as long as you’re in it.”
My pulse is hammering.
“You’re it for me, Honey.”
She presses her lips together hard, trying not to cry.
I hold the ring out toward her again.
“So.” My voice shakes slightly despite my best effort. “Hunniford Sanderson...”
Her eyes close briefly at the use of her full name.
“Will you marry me?”
For a second, she just stares at me. Like she’s trying to memorize this exact version of me forever.
Then she slowly lowers herself onto the floor in front of me until we’re eye level.
“You already know my answer,” she whispers.
“Tell me anyway.”
She holds out her hand to me, and I slip the ring onto her finger. Then she cups my face with both hands and looks at me the same way she did when we were eighteen years old and I told her I loved her for the first time.
“Yes,” she says softly but firmly. “A thousand times yes.”
My eyes start to burn with unshed tears.
“I choose you, Zach Evans.” Her voice breaks slightly. “I'm done running.”
I kiss her before I can think too hard about how much I love her. Right there on the living room floor of her tiny apartment.
And outside, Rome keeps moving around us—cars passing, people talking, music drifting faintly through the street below—completely unaware that everything I’ve ever wanted is finally in my arms.