Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Thank fuck.
Finally, I pull my mouth of hers, but I keep my face close so I can look at her in wonder. “How? Why?”
She opens her mouth, but I kiss her again instead. When I pull back, I mutter as I take her by the hand. “No, wait… don’t tell me. I have something else to do first.”
I pull her toward the kitchen, and Jorie laughs. “Figured it would take you ten seconds to drag me off to bed.”
I grin but come to a halt by the kitchen table, pushing her down into a chair. “Not taking you to bed yet.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t move,” is all I say.
She watches me in silence as I bustle around the kitchen. First, I pull out a plate, cutlery, and a wineglass. I set them on the table in front of her. I grab wine from the fridge, pour her a glass. Sneaking a glance at her, I can see amused curiosity on her face.
Lastly, I take my microwaved lasagna that’s a little burned on the edges, and I turn it over to dump it on the plate.
Jorie snickers.
“Just a few more things,” I tell her as I search through my cabinets and finally find a pair candlestick holders with candles in there. I think they were Renee’s, but I sure as fuck know I’ve never used them. I forage through a drawer and find matches.
I set the candles on the table and light them.
“I’m not hungry, Walsh,” she says with a laugh.
“Be quiet,” I chastise her with a mock glare. “I need one more thing… don’t move.”
I run into the hallway that leads off the kitchen, to my duffle bag on the bed, and dig my hand down inside. I’d carried this with me to Los Angeles, but I never brought it out.
It wasn’t the right time then.
I jog back into the kitchen and slide to a halt right beside Jorie’s chair. She looks up at me with raised eyebrows, the ring box securely hidden in my hand.
“What’s all this?” she asks.
“Well,” I say dramatically as I get down on one knee in front of her. At my obvious movement, a hand comes up to cover her mouth in surprise. “Remember in Los Angeles earlier today, I told you I wanted you to be my wife, and I envisioned us at a romantic restaurant when I proposed on bended knee? I can’t conjure that up right now, and I don’t want to wait another fucking second. I don’t know how you came to the decision you did, but you’re here and I’m asking you to marry me right now.”
Jorie gasps as I open my hand to present the black velvet box to her.
She stares at it with wide eyes, so I go ahead and open it.
Another gasp and her eyes go even more wide. I outdid myself yesterday when I picked this out before I went to the airport to fly to L.A. It’s a Harry Winston, four-carat behemoth sapphire in a classic emerald cut. It’s flanked by trilliant diamonds on the side, each a full carat, set in white gold.
“Holy shit, Walsh,” she wheezes as she looks from the ring to me. “You’re totally compensating.”
I smirk at her and pull the ring out. Taking her left hand, I slide it on the finger that will proclaim that this woman is off the market.
She stares at it in wonder and says, “You know I’m still married, right?”
“Semantics,” I say dismissively, but we are going to work on that divorce thing as soon as possible.
Sliding her gaze back up to me she whispers, “Do you want your answer?”
I smile at her, lean in to kiss her mouth. “I had my answer the minute you walked into my home with your suitcase. But I’d love to hear it from that gorgeous mouth.”
“It’s yes,” she says with a little bit of an excited squeal, and it’s music to my ears.
I kiss her again hard, then I’m lifting her from the chair. She wraps her legs around my waist, her arms tight around my neck, and she doesn’t move her lips from mine until I toss her down on my bed.
“I take it by the change of clothes when I saw you after lunch, you took a shower?” I ask as I peel her jeans and panties down her legs. She’s working on tearing her t-shirt off.
“Yeah, why?” she returns breathlessly as she comes to her knees and helps me with my clothes as I stand at the edge of the bed.
She leans in, runs her tongue over one of my nipples after my shirt comes off, and I hiss from the touch. My hands shoot out, take her face, and I pull her up closer to me. “I was hoping you hadn’t showered. I wanted to see my cum dried white on the inside of your thighs.”