CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELLE
It’s been one hell of a week. A bona fide plethora of sticky emotions that started out in the worst possible, darkest place, and then turned itself around in the matter of a day. I owe it all to Tassie’s mother, who somehow managed to get my mother into a private, anonymously funded room in Houston’s Mercy Hospital. They have one of the best oncology departments in the country.
The most amazing part, however, is that the doctors at the hospital and Tassie’s mother pulled off a miracle. We got it. The medicine. Literally, I cried for an hour when I heard the news. But nothing topped the look on my father’s face when I told him. He hugged me so hard that my ribs are sore. “I love you, little Elle. I love you so much,” he’d said, nearly sobbing, making me cry right along with him.
But I won’t lie. There was a moment when my brain urged me to temper his excitement with facts. This drug isn’t a cure. It’s a treatment. And treatments don’t always work. So I quickly reminded myself that we all needed to focus on a positive outcome if we wanted to give my mom a fighting chance.
Anyway, she started the new drug almost immediately. Not a trial patient, not a placebo, but the real thing. And it’s been shown to turbo-charge the immune system so that the body fights off the cancer on its own. In short, this is her best shot at making it, and I am committed to being hopeful. Besides, miracles like these just don’t fall out of the sky for no reason.
“Hey, I’m going to get something greasy for lunch and run home to feed Mr. Nucleus,” I whisper to my dad, who’s sitting in the chair beside my mother’s hospital bed, reading a book. With the care she’s been getting, her vitals have improved, but she’s still sleeping a lot. “Can I bring you anything back?”
“No, thanks, baby,” he says.
“You sure?” I got here around ten in the morning, and he hasn’t moved or eaten.
“If I get hungry, I’ll run downstairs.” He flashes a warm smile that shows in his brown eyes, which I love seeing.
“Okay. When she wakes up, tell Mom that I’ll be back later.”
“Take your time. Get some fresh air,” he says.
I know I look like I could use it. Hospitals are not my favorite place. Especially since my mother’s been in and out of them for almost two years.
I take the elevator down and head outside to the back parking lot. The afternoon air is crisp and cool, and I already feel lighter.
“Elle, hey,” I hear a deep familiar voice say.
“Henry?” My mind snaps to attention and I spot him walking toward me in his jeans and plain blue Polo shirt. His green eyes look a little tired, but he is as beautiful as ever and my heart does this crazy little pitter-patter. “How’d you know where I was?”
“I went by your dorm room a few times this week, but you weren’t there. Then I saw Tassie this morning, and she told me the good news.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’ve been here all week.”
He bobs his head. “I heard. You got a minute?”
I’ve been meaning to call him, actually. After Ohio and his big public episode with Hunter, I’ve wanted to tell him so many things. Mostly, that I’m not mad about what he said. I get why he was angry. But the moment I understood how similar he and I are, with our crazy walls and apprehension to trust, I realized the problem was never him. It was painful to admit, but it was always me. After feeling alone for so long, I just don’t know how to share my life with a man. Especially one that forces me to take a good hard look at myself—walls, battle scars, self-perpetuated lies, and all.
The only solution I can think of is to take it slow. Friendship first. Only, I know it’s not what he wants, and standing here looking at him now, the hunger in his vivid green eyes and slight tension in his angular jaw, friendship isn’t what I want either. I want to rewind the clock and go back to that moment in my dorm room last Friday and say what I now know I feel: “I think you might be right. I might need you, too.” But I didn’t say it. And now, I’m not sure how. Fact is, I’m just not as brave as he is. Fact is, I care about him and have to wonder if he’s ready for my world. It’s not exactly an easy place.
Let him decide, Elle. He laid his heart out there. Now, it’s your turn.
“Elle? I promise this will only take a minute,” he says.
Nope. This conversation is going to take much longer. But I need time to warm up. I hadn’t planned on doing this today.
“Actually,” I say, “I was just thinking of getting something to eat. They only have salads and healthy crap here. I need a bacon cheeseburger or something fattening. Wanna join me?”
I can’t read his expression, exactly. But he’s not smiling, not his usual self.
“I already ate,” he says, “but I know a place that makes a respectable grilled cheese. I’ll drive. My car’s right over there.”
I notice he’s parked in a reserved space. Such a cocky guy. Thinks he can park anywhere. Of course, I like that about Henry. He acts like the world is his oyster. That’s because it is.
“Thanks.” I head for his SUV, my hands as tight as my stomach.
He unlocks the doors and opens the passenger side for me. I slip into my seat, unable to stop checking him out. Something’s off. Something’s really off. Like he’s aged ten years despite looking like his same, youthful, stunningly handsome self.
Damn, I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s because he’s not smiling. Maybe he’s nervous because he thinks I’m going to tear into him.
Best let him off the hook. I’ll need his full attention for what I have to say.
He starts the engine and pulls out into the parking lot, immediately heading toward downtown.
“Henry.” I clear my throat. “I want you to know that I’m not mad about what you said in Ohio. So there’s no need to apologize. In fact—”
“You’re not mad?”
“No,” I say. “I know you were just upset when I saw you at the game.”
“Then why are you still blocking my number?”
I am? “With all the commotion around my mom, I guess I just forgot.”
Henry takes a right turn. I guess he knows where he’s going, because he doesn’t use maps or anything. I hardly ever come into Houston except for the rare shopping trip or to go to the airport—too much traffic.
I’m about to begin the painful process of open honesty, when he cuts in.
“So,” he says, keeping his intense eyes on the road, “now that your mom is being taken care of, I’m sure it’s a huge relief.”
“Oh. Yeah. I mean, we’re not even close to being out of the woods, but at least we have hope now. And she’s a fighter. If anyone can make it through this, she can. Especially now that she’s starting this new treatment. Statistically, her chances are sixty percent.”
“Is that good?”
“It was zero last weekend, so I’d say yes. Plus, Tassie’s mother has been giving me information on all of the other things we can do to help, like diet and meditation. There’s a special kind of yoga she can try—I hear it helps the body heal.”
Henry grumbles something about yoga under his breath. Guess he’s not a fan.
“So when are you coming back to school?” he asks.
“I’m not. I’ve decided to drop out, which leads me to—”
“What?” He glances at me for a moment but quickly returns his eyes to the road. “You’re dropping out?”
“My family needs me,” I explain, “and I’ve had to face some hard truths lately.”
“But school, Elle. You’re so smart. Why wouldn’t you want a degree?”
It’s not who I am. “I thought it was the right thing to do, but now I know it was a mistake.”
Henry is silent on the matter, but I can tell from his flexing jaw muscles and the eagle-like intensity in his eyes, he’s bothered.
“What?” I say.
“Nothing. So you’re really not coming back?”
I debate my next words carefully because the pretend Elle would make up some bullcrap and say something a normal person might about how college is so important. It is, but I’m not normal. So I opt for being honest with Henry and taking a baby step toward telling him who I really am.
“I never wanted to go to college,” I confess. “Besides, I’ve already read the books in all my classes. Ten years ago. And now I’m realizing that it’s a waste of time going through the motions of getting a degree just to make someone else happy.”
“Make who happy?” Henry flashes me a confused look.
“My mom. She’s the one who wanted me to go to school. I think it’s just the way she was raised. You go to college, get a job, get married, have kids and then you retire. That’s not me.”
“So no marriage and kids for you, huh?”
“Why, you asking, Henry?” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh with me.
“You never know.” He pulls up to a stoplight and looks at me. “Elle, are we back on, or are we over?”
Suddenly, my heart starts going all crazy and my toes are tingling. “Well—” I swallow whatever’s in my throat, probably my ability to keep a clear head. “I think I want to crawl before I walk. And you and I are in different preschools. We’re crawling in different directions.”
“I thought you showed up to the game in Ohio because you wanted to give us a shot?” he says.
“I did. I do. But you have to understand, Henry. I’m conflicted over us. I was forced to grow up so fast, and I don’t want that kind of accelerated life for you. I want you to savor every minute and enjoy it. And I definitely don’t want to be the person who gets in the way of your dream. It just wouldn’t be right.”
“That’s not your choice,” he scowls.
Oh no. The conversation is going sideways. Regroup. Regroup.
“Henry, let’s be honest. I can’t see how I can do all the things I want in life and be with you, a guy who travels all the time, going to games, having women throw themselves at him.”
Wait. That came out wrong. I’d merely wanted to point out how our lives are in different places and I’m not sure what to do about it.
His sensual lips flatten and his large hands tighten around the steering wheel. “So you’ve already dismissed us? Completely.”
“No! I haven’t. But I need someone who will be there to build a life with me, Henry. You’re still a big kid—just as you should be.”
Ugh! Foot in mouth! Why, why do I suck at this so badly!
“You’re wrong about me, Elle.” The light turns green, and instead of continuing down the street, he takes a left into an underground garage. Above it is a huge high-rise building.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“The best place for grilled cheese in Houston.”
It doesn’t look like the sort of building that has a restaurant, but okay. I’m too busy trying to pry my mouth out of my ass. My next words need to be clear and precise. Thinking, thinking, thinking…
We pull up to a set of elevators and a valet shows up, opening the door for me. I get out and Henry hands the guy the keys.
Still thinking, thinking, thinking…Ugh! I don’t know what to say and how to make it come out the right way.
Once inside, Henry scans a card and the elevator doors pop open. It’s a regular elevator with numbers on the buttons. Usually, when there are businesses in a place like this, the name of the company is somewhere close to the buttons.
“This is a residential building, isn’t it?” I ask.
Facing the doors, he nods. “Yep.”
“So why have you brought me here?”
“Because we’re going to my apartment, and I’m making you lunch.”
Huh? I know Henry’s family is wealthy, but Henry has an apartment off campus back in Austin. He never mentioned another place.
“So this is what, your weekend bachelor pad?” Still thinking, thinking and…nothing! “Henry, let’s be friends, because I really want to sleep with you.” No. No. That’s weird. “Henry, I am a giant antisocial crazy person, but let’s take it slow.” Ugh. Worse! “Henry, I am afraid. I’m so, so afraid because you’re so, so wonderful. And if it didn’t work out, it might really, really hurt.” No! Too needy.
“Bachelor pad?” Henry huffs. “Not exactly.”
The elevator opens on the top floor and my mouth drops. It’s got a panoramic view of Houston.
“Wow. This is…this is…impressive,” I say.
“It’s a perk of my new job. A penthouse in the city. A weekend house wherever I want.”
I blink at him. “What job?”
“Helping my father run his company after college.”
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Stop the presses. What’s going on here? Because while I’ve been agonizing over my big emotional premier party, I’ve clearly missed something.
“How are you going to have time for football?” I ask.
“I won’t. I’m giving it up.”
Whatthefuck?
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I protest. “I mean, you love football. And I don’t just mean like. You loooove it.” Plus, Hunter told me that Henry’s dad is a huge greedy asshole.
“Everyone’s gotta grow up sometime. Don’t they, Elle?” He gestures over to the kitchen area, which is a big open space on the other side of the living room area. It’s got stainless steel everything, glass cabinets and marble counters.
I’m shocked. Really shocked. Usually, I’m great at figuring things out—like in those crazy spy novels I love so much, but something’s not computing.
“Henry, was this really your choice?”
“Yes.”
“Did your dad pressure you?” I ask.
“Since I was born.”
“Okay, but did something new happen? Something that made you change your mind about the sport you love more than life itself?”
“I already told you, you were wrong about me. Football isn’t everything.” Henry pulls out an apron from a drawer after checking three or four of them. Clearly, he doesn’t know his way around this kitchen, but he knows how to make a grilled cheese because he’s got out a pan, butter, cheese and bread. I’m guessing that grocery shopping comes with the package because this penthouse looks expensive, and I can’t see Henry doing the whole supermarket thing.
“I guess…I don’t know what to say.” I watch him drop a pat of butter into the warm pan. I can’t help focusing on how he seems so different. More grown up maybe? And he’s ditching football of his own accord, which means our relationship’s probability of success just became a positive integer. A really, really big positive integer. Why doesn’t that make me happy? It’s like I’ve just gotten everything I wanted, but everything feels off, tainted and airless.
“Is it stuffy in here?” I ask.
“I feel okay, but the thermostat is right over there by the front door.”
I definitely need cooler air. I hop up and go fiddle with the thing, setting the temperature to seventy-two. From the corner of my eye, I see his bedroom. It’s got a huge bed and hardwood floors. From the light pouring in, I know there are more views and big windows. Maybe one of them opens and I can hang my head out of it.
I walk over to investigate while my brain is crunching on all this.
“Wow,” I whisper, pushing the door wide open. It’s like something straight out of an interior design magazine. Alternating light gray and white walls. Highly polished hardwood floors. Sleek modern furniture—red and white. There’s a private patio with a gas fire pit and a hot tub, all overlooking the city.
I slide the door open and a slight breeze washes over my face. I inhale deeply, trying to settle my thoughts. Part of me is selfishly happy about Henry’s decision because it means we might have a future. On the other hand, it’s not making sense that he’d quit. Really, it’s not. Something happened.
“Like the view?” says Henry, startling me from behind.
I jolt and turn, placing my hand over my heart. “Oh. You scared me.”
“Sorry. Your sandwich is ready.” He’s still wearing his black apron, and I can’t help notice how it barely covers his broad chest, a chest I really, really miss touching.
“So fast?”
“You’ve been gone for five minutes. I thought maybe you’d gotten distracted by the big bathroom.”
“Oh. No. I haven’t gotten past your patio. It’s spectacular.”
He makes a little shrug. “Yeah. I guess it’s nice. But the place feels more like a hotel than a home.”
“You’re really going to live here?”
“I own it now, so I guess I should.”
I narrow my eyes. “But you never mentioned wanting this or quitting football or—”
“Elle, we’ve both admitted that there’s still a lot we don’t know about each other.”
“But something is not—”
Henry suddenly bends down and kisses me. His lips are warm and soft. The scruff around his mouth is bristly and rough. The moment his hot tongue slides through my lips and I taste him on my tongue, I realize that I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way he smells—sweet, clean, manly, and a tinge of bad boy.
He pulls back, and I stare up at him, noticing how serious he seems now. Or maybe he was more mature than I’d given him credit for. I chose to see what I wanted.
Slowly, he takes his hand and pushes a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I’ve missed you, Elle.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I say, my body unable to get enough air. He’s standing too close.
“I’m glad we finally agree on something.” He leans down and kisses me again. His strong arms snake around my waist, pulling me into the heat of his large frame. An intoxicating rush of excitement floods my body. This is what I like about being with Henry. He knows just how to use every inch of himself—the right way to hold me, the way to make me feel like I belong to him.
I throw myself into the kiss, cupping his rough cheeks with my hands.
He lifts me effortlessly and carries me over to the bed. My mind forgets all the worries and squabbles of the past few months. I can’t even remember why I wanted to stop seeing him. Because Tassie was right, we do have chemistry. I’m reminded of it every time I look into his eyes and feel something beyond just physical attraction.
Henry pulls his shirt over his head, and I drink in the masculine vision of perfection before me—his ripped abs and dusting of light brown hair on his lower stomach; the swell of his biceps and his broad shoulders. I love how despite his magnificent size, our bodies always fit together perfectly.
Those green eyes are intense and locked on my face as he unbuttons the top of his jeans, revealing a patch of dark hair and his long, thick cock. I lick my lips and open my legs for him.
I’m still dressed. Why am I still dressed? I kick off my low tops and unbutton my jeans. Henry watches as I wiggle my way out of my pants.
“Gonna take off that top?” He grins.
“Oh. Yeah. I almost forgot.” I didn’t, of course. I am just feeling greedy and anxious to get that hard cock inside me.
I grab the hem of my T-shirt and pull it over my head. The bra follows quickly and Henry just stands there staring at me with this look in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
I don’t believe him, but clearly he’s not ready to open up. Like me, he just needs time. Maybe I’ll juggle for him later. It’ll be a nice icebreaker. Intro to Elle 101.
“Well,” I say, with a sigh, thinking aloud, “I guess now that you’re giving up football, we’ll have a lot more time to get to know each other.” I like that idea. I’m just not sure I like how it came about.
Henry’s nostrils flare a little, and I can see his chest rising and falling. I can’t tell if he’s turned on or a little irritated or both.
He leans forward and joins me on the bed, capturing my mouth with an aggressive kiss, like he’s got something to say and wants to show me with his body. His tongue is demanding, his grip on the back of my neck is firm, and his body is tense. He pushes me back and stares hungrily at me for a moment before reaching for my waist and flipping me over. With his size and strength, he has no problem maneuvering my petite body.
I hear him grab for something in the nightstand and see him toss a condom wrapper to the floor. I’m glad he remembered because I’m too caught up in him and us to think of anything else.
He grips my hips, forcing me onto my elbows. With one quick thrust, he takes me from behind, sliding deep. My breath whooshes from my lungs, and I wince. I had not been expecting that. He always plays with me first. He loves to mess around and goof off and make me laugh a million times with raspberries on my thigh or licking me in that ticklish spot behind my knee. He definitely likes foreplay, too. He’s great at it.
Henry pulls out and slams into me again, driving deep. I’m shocked by the fierceness of his thrusts and the hard way he’s fucking me. There’s anger in it. There’s despair in it. I’m not afraid, it’s not like that. I feel more confused than anything.
Henry begins pumping hard with his hips, driving in and pulling out at a ferocious pace. I brace my arm on the headboard, thinking that whatever this is, he sure as hell isn’t thinking about my needs because there is no way I’ll come like this, and he knows it. Nor does he seem to care.
No juggling for you!
Henry hammers into me, his large hands holding my hips so he can angle the head of his thick cock deeper. It’s to a point where I can’t take more of him, but he drives again and then stills with a deep guttural groan, coming inside me. I feel his cock twitching out his cum, which makes me feel fifty degrees hotter. Now my c-spot is throbbing, wanting more. My nipples ache for the hard suction of his mouth.
Henry pulls out and lets go. I expect him to slap my ass or something—he always loves to hear me yelp a little. But that’s that. He’s gone into the bathroom, leaving me on all fours with my ass in the air.
Jesus, what just happened?
I get dressed and then go to the guest bathroom near the entryway to clean up. When I come out, Henry’s in the kitchen, putting the frying pan in the sink, and putting away the butter and cheese.
“Henry?” I say quietly. “What was that?”
He doesn’t look at me.
“Henry?”
“Let me take you home,” he grumbles.
“Eh…no. You just rode me like a pony strapped with dynamite.”
He gives me a hard look and goes back to cleaning up.
“That was a joke, Henry. Get it…if he’s got dynamite, you won’t want to stay on him too long.”
“Are you going to eat?”
Okay. I’m missing something. Perhaps my overjoyed state due to my mother’s improved outlook has clouded my ability to see the pieces.
All right. Deep breath. Think.
Henry is quitting football and leaving behind his dreams for the NFL. He’s going to work for his wealthy a-hole of a father. Henry doesn’t seem like the materialistic type in that he doesn’t wear expensive clothes, never brags about anything but his awesome “game,” and never discusses how freakishly wealthy his family is. Yet here he is in a penthouse. Angry. In a penthouse he wanted to show me. Why?
My brain throws out a few horrible answers, but the only one that makes sense is… “Please don’t call me a pompous bitch for saying this, but, Henry, did you give up football for me?” I mean, I did tell him—at least twice—that he wasn’t a serious person and that I needed a man. A grown-up man.
He looks at me. “What makes you think that?”
“Uh-uh. Don’t play games, Henry. If you want us to have a shot, then this is the point you step up and answer honestly.” I run my hands through my hair, praying he did not just alter the course of his lifelong trajectory for my sake.
“Yes.”
My mouth drops. “No. No. No. Why? Why would you do that? I never meant for you to give up everything just to please me. I meant that we were different and on different paths and that was reality. I never intended for you to go out and try to be someone you’re not. That’s ridiculous.”
“You did it for your mother. You just told me so.”
I’m about to protest, but he’s got me on that. “Yes. I did go to college to make my mom happy. But I also told you that I’m correcting the situation. Henry, if being with you means that you have to give up who you are, then I don’t want it. Not like this. Not at this price.”
No wonder he passive-aggressive humped me.
“Well,” he says, “I didn’t quit football to please you. And what’s done is done. I can’t go back.”
“Of course you can. You just walk up to your coach and say I want to play. Boom. You’re back.” No team lets go of a player like Henry voluntarily. And yes, I’ve been stalking him on social media and in the sports news. I know his career just grew rocket boosters. He’s the talk of the town, the belle of the beefcake ball.
“No, Elle. I really can’t. I’ve made a commitment. I have one semester left after finals and then I’m SVP of Walton, Inc., and CEO of several subsidiaries.”
“Oil. You’re going to work for big oil.” I roll my eyes. If he thinks this will win me over, he’s got another think coming.
“Not all oil. My father’s been investing in other ventures. He knows oil isn’t the future, but he needs help and I can’t complain about the money.”
Whoa. Henry’s never cared about money. Not in the greedy, sell-your-soul sort of way. His father must’ve made some sort of threat or had some new leverage…
This is the part where my brain does stuff I don’t ask it to. It’s almost like having neuropathways made up entirely of bullet trains that travel at the speed of light.
The lightbulb flickers, and I tilt my head. That’s it. Henry paid for my mother’s care. Or he had a hand in it. I mean, angels just don’t fall out of the sky and give people medicine in a day and the best doctors money can buy. Henry had once mentioned his father didn’t approve of the whole football thing and that Henry always had to pay with his time.
I cover my mouth and my eyes tear up. “Oh, Henry,” I gasp. “You didn’t. You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”
He looks at me, and I see it in his eyes.
“Oh, Henry,” the tears begin to stream down my cheeks, “you did. You asked him for help, and he made you give up football, didn’t he?”
Henry lets out a slow breath toward the floor.
“Goddammit. No.” I sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And say what? That my father is a supreme heartless asshole who owns the drug company making your mother’s medicine and that he told me to choose between helping her or something he knows I love.”
I cup my hands over my face. “Oh, God,” I whisper. It’s worse than I thought. I’d assumed Henry had asked for a loan or something. But his father owns the company and used it to blackmail Henry?
This man has got to be the world’s biggest prick. “No wonder you didn’t want to work for him.”
Henry scratches the back of his neck. “It doesn’t matter now. I’ve agreed. He’s making sure your mom is getting what she needs, and I’m not about to risk that just because I love to throw balls around on a grass field with a bunch of big dudes.”
I walk around the counter and throw my arms around his neck, pushing up on my tiptoes. I was so, so wrong about what I’d been thinking earlier. This version of him isn’t mature. It’s the sad version. He’s heartbroken. That’s where all of the seriousness came from. That’s why he seems so different.
“I changed my mind. I like the guy who wants to play and have fun and work hard for what he wants, because that’s the guy who just gave it all up. For me.” I push my mouth to his and pour my gratitude and my “I’m so, so sorries” into the kiss. I drink him in and let go for the first time in my life. I really don’t give a lab rat’s ass if he wants to make football his life because I know how to make things work, and I know a man like him is so hard to find.
He holds me by the waist and returns my kiss, but then pulls away.
Those green eyes pierce me, and I can hardly breathe just standing here looking at him.
He whisks away a tear trickling down my chin. “Please don’t cry. I am going to survive. I promise there are worse fates.”
“I know, but you deserve better. You deserve to live your dream, Henry.” And I’m not about to let him give it up.
“Aside from the obvious parental shortcomings, I’ve always had everything I’ve wanted.” He draws a smooth breath. “But now I found something I need, and if I’m lucky, I’ll get to deserve her.”
Gahhh…Heart expanding. Must. Relieve. Pressure. Must open it. “Marry me!”
Henry jerks back his head and blinks at me. “Sorry?”
“Marry me.”
“Errr…you feeling okay, Elle?”
“Yes. Very okay. My brain did the computation, and you are my ideal match. Out of seven point five billion people on the planet, there is no one who has ever made me feel like this, and the probability of finding a man who is more handsome, fit, or intelligent than you, who also has an abundantly sized penis and healthy-sized ego—but not completely overbearing—who genuinely cares about me and will give me really strong swimmers when I’m ready; and who will also be able to lift me when I’m eighty because I have a fifty-two-point-seven chance of falling and breaking a hip; and who will also likely still be alive when I’m eighty because he exercises more than one hour a day; and—”
“Elle, enough already.”
“And…” I hold up a finger, “who will do anything to make sure I’m okay.” I poke his chest. “You are literally one in seven point five billion, Henry. I can’t afford to let you go,” I say, staring into his eyes, trying to make him see that I’m anything but joking. “Oh, and I was once a clown and traveled with the circus. But that was a long time ago. Totally over.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I love you. Will you please put aside the fact that we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, most of it having wild fantastic sex, and that I’m a woman—therefore breaking the proposal rules—and agree to be my husband? We don’t need to marry today—we’re young. But I need you to know I’m committed.” I take his hand and hold it up to my mouth. “Please, Henry, if there’s any doubt in your mind, then trust your heart. And if that still doesn’t get you there, then trust me.” I draw a quick breath. “Because I’m really fucking smart. Which is why I listened to you. We do work.”
He blinks for ten long seconds, and I can see his wheels turning. He has to realize that he was the one who saw it first. He told me we worked. I just hadn’t been ready to see it.
A slow, seductive smile creeps across his face. “Would you object to getting married at a football game? I always thought that looked cool.”
I’m not sure if he’s joking, but I don’t really care. “So you’re talking tailgate party instead of a reception?”
“That’s a great idea.” He laughs and kisses me. I feel this warm vibe encircle my entire body, and my mind—without my asking—tells me that this is what happens when people find true love. Their entire beings vibrate on the same frequency. They sync up. They go from being two separate organisms floating in the sea of life, to being two united forms rowing in one boat.
I break our kiss. “You really want a football wedding?”
“You were really in the circus?”
I tilt my head and shrug. “Yeah.”
“That’s so hot.” He lunges for my lips. “Please tell me you can juggle.”
I want to cry. Literally fucking cry. He gets me.
Panting for him without realizing it, I say, “Take me back to bed, Henry. Make love to me this time.”
His smile fades. The emotion is palpable, charging the air around us. “I love you, Elle,” he whispers.
“I know that now. And you’ll never have to prove it to me again. For as long as I live, Henry.” I brush my hand over the side of his head, feeling the silky golden strands between my fingers. “But I will spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to prove my love to you.”
HENRY
Never in a million years had I expected today to turn out like this. I’d hoped that Elle might accept my apologies for my outburst at the game last weekend, the best outcome involving us shaking hands and agreeing to meet again.
But Elle, true to her eccentric nature, got the truth out of me and then proposed marriage. Not exactly how I’d envisioned it happening for me.
Hey, gotta respect a woman who knows what she wants. Still, I can’t help but feel concerned for her.
Do I want her? Hell yes.
Do I want her for the rest of my life? Hell to the yes.
Do I want her anywhere near my emotional Chernobyl of a family? Ohellno. Not when she’s got so many other things to worry about.
“What’s the matter, Henry?” she says as I lay my naked body between her thighs, my mind whirling with a million thoughts. I’ve never made love to a woman. I’ve fucked, screwed, and nailed. Not once have I ever done this.
Oh hell. My knees are shaking.
I smile. “You’ve got me all nervous.”
“Do I now?” She kisses me, sweeping her tongue over my bottom lip.
It’s not easy for me to say how I feel. I am used to hiding my emotions—in front of family, on the field, and certainly when in the public eye at family events. Stiff upper lip, charming smile, nice words—any of those I can do. But talking about my feelings? That’s not my thing.
I will have to show her how I feel.
ELLE
Henry’s strong, hard body blankets mine, and I couldn’t be more turned on in this moment. He’s all heart, I’ve realized, and now his is pounding against my chest. He’s tense from head to toe, and his cock is harder than hell, the head nudging at my entrance.
I can tell that whatever’s happened between us just now changed things. There’s love between us and in what we’re about to do.
Staring into his eyes, I plant a gentle kiss on his sensual lips and rock my hips into him.
He answers with a slow kiss back and then trails his lips and scruff down the side of my neck, leaving behind deliciously warm tingles.
It feels so good that I hardly notice his shaft isn’t where I want it.
He kisses his way down to my breasts and cups the left one in his rough hand while his tongue circles my taut nipple on the right. I know he’s kissed my breasts before. I know he’s kissed every inch of my body, but this is the first time I feel like he’s tapped into my erogenous superhighway.
He begins sucking on my nipple, and the sensation tugs at my g-spot. My entire core begins to throb and ache for him, making me wetter than I’ve ever been.
How does he do that?
I cup the back of his head, digging my fingertips into his soft, dirty blond hair, my body squirming involuntarily.
He switches sides and begins sucking on the other nipple while sliding his hand down, over my waist and hip and then between my legs.
I gasp the moment his thick finger channels between the folds and finds my entrance.
“Mmmm…you’re so wet,” he says.
“All for you,” I whisper.
He thrusts his fingers into me, and I buck.
“Oh God,” he says, “you feel so warm and silky.” His mouth moves down lower, and I feel his tongue sliding over my c-spot. He doesn’t need to do this because I’m ready to burst and craving the kind of orgasm I can only get from his thick shaft pushing my limits. But it feels so good, I’m unable to stop him. Or speak. Or think or—
He starts sucking my clit and thrusting deep with those fingers, triggering an explosion of euphoria. My body tenses as the waves of wonderful contractions pound through my core and radiate outward.
“Fuck, fuck.” I grab fists full of blanket and my head whips from side to side while his mouth and tongue and fingers literally rip the orgasm right out of this space so deep inside me that it feels like it comes from a different plane of existence.
After several long moments, the contractions melt away, leaving me limp and breathless. “Wow,” I pant.
Henry wipes his mouth on my inner thigh, scratching me with his whiskers. I don’t even care. I don’t want to move. This feeling is just too good.
Henry moves over me, spreading my thighs with his large legs and planting his hands to the sides of my head. He takes no time positioning his cock and thrusts deep. I’m wet and relaxed, but my bud is sensitive. His shaft feels harder, thicker, and longer than ever because I can feel every inch of his dick inside me, sliding and thrusting.
I realize he’s fucking me bare, and it ignites me all over again. The scorching arousal deep inside is almost agonizing as he stares at me with those sexy green eyes and pumps his hips. I open my legs wider, wanting him deeper, and run my hands behind him to cup his hard ass. I love how it feels as those smooth round muscles are flexing beneath my palms. I love the feel of his balls slamming against me. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right.
Henry begins moving faster, hammering his thick cock into me over and over again. I’m so close to coming, but I want to wait. I want to come as he ejaculates inside me.
He lowers his head and kisses me hard and then pushes the force of his body into me. His entire body tenses, and he lets out a deep, animalist groan that does me in. I let go and melt into him, feeling the tip of his cock pressing into my womb, the base of him putting the right amount of pressure on my throbbing bud. The orgasm tears through me, gripping me with hard waves of wicked pulses. I moan and pant, but I want to scream. The orgasm is tortuously good, lighting up every muscle with hot spasms.
As I’m coming, he makes small little thrusts with his cock, flooding me with the silky heat of his cum. I open myself wider for him, never wanting the moment to end. Being with him like this is like a drug, and I know I’ll never tire of it.
Several moments pass, and I feel his body relax, but he stays inside me, propping his body on his elbows. Still, he’s heavy and I love it.
“That was amazing.” He plants a lingering kiss on my neck.
“I have no words,” I pant.
“That’s a first.”
“Just rest. Because I need you to do that again as quickly as possible.”