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“Not nearly good enough, Angel. I told you before, I’ve got eighteen years of time to make up for — starting with making you my wife. So, what do you say?”
“I say that I’d marry you tomorrow at city hall wearing jeans and a t-shirt if it meant I get to call you my husband.” I start to interrupt her, but she puts a finger up to my lips. “But if you insist on taking me to Italy, then who am I to stop you?”
”I do insist, because I love you.” I kiss her forehead and brush her cheek. “Come on, let’s go celebrate this engagement properly.”
Chapter 55
I’ve died and gone to Heaven — that’s the only legitimate explanation for everything that’s happened tonight. I meant what I’d said to Joey — I never gave much thought to my wedding growing up. For the longest time, I was convinced I’d never get married.
From the time I found out about my endometriosis, I feared getting close enough to any man who might want to marry me. I was afraid that once they found out that my chances of having kids were slim to none, they’d end things and I’d be left heartbroken.
Grant was the first one to break through that barrier, filling me with promises that it didn’t matter to him, that he did want to marry me someday. Every time the topic came up, however, he always used the same excuse — “I want to be farther ahead in my career.” Now I know that was just a cover for “I’m fucking other women and don’t want to commit to you.”
Joey and I haven’t really discussed my fertility issues since my trip to the hospital. I tried to bring it up once, I think, and he said it wasn’t something we needed to worry about right now. I don’t want to ruin our engagement night by talking about something that might put a damper on the mood, so I’ll curb it for another time. But it is a discussion we need to have before we get married.
When Joey and I get to the door, he scoops me up bridal-style and carries me across the threshold. I squeal out loud at the sudden loss of my feet underneath me.
“Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do after you’re married?” I giggle playfully.
“Engaged, married — same thing, more or less. Besides, I’ll take any opportunity I can to hold you like this.” He squeezes my side, eliciting another yelp from me.
I won’t complain about that — I feel safest when I’m in his arms. After the hell of the past couple of months, I’m happy to have had him as my safe space. I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head against him while he carries me to the bedroom.
“So, I have a confession to make,” Joey says before laying me down on the bed. I shoot him an inquisitive look in reply before he continues. “I sang ‘Eyes on You’ tonight because it was more ‘appropriate’ than the one I wanted to sing to you.” He uses finger quotes to emphasize his point.
“So what song did you want to sing?” I smirk, having a strong guess at which one he would’ve picked.
He doesn’t actually answer me, but instead he says, “Alexa, play my spicy country playlist.”
The laughter that escapes my mouth is louder than I intended it to be. “Are you serious? You made a whole playlist of songs for me?”
“Sure did, Angel.” He leans down and starts singing a few lines of “Ride” against my ear.
“Joey Brooks, have I turned you into a country fan?” I groan as he nips at my neck.
“Not in the slightest.” He rubs his nose against mine playfully. “I just figured this was more mellow than metal music if I’m making sweet love to you. Which I fully intend to do all night.” He grinds against me and I can feel his hard length through his jeans.
“Ohhh,” I sigh. “Well, you know we’re wearing entirely too many clothes for that, right?”
“Mmhmm,” Joey hums against the other side of my neck as he slides the straps of my dress down over my shoulders. “I’m going to take care of that right now.” As he continues to slide my dress down my body, he lays a trail of kisses over the exposed skin. “So fucking sweet.”
The combination of this “spicy playlist” and the wicked things Joey is doing with his mouth have me straight-up swooning and needy as hell. This man’s tongue should come with a warning label — “may cause hysteria, head-to-toe goosebumps, and earth-shattering orgasms.”
Once my dress is fully removed, Joey stands back and admires me from the foot of the bed. “God, you’re perfect,” he mutters. His eyes are full of a dark desire that makes me clench my thighs together.
When I move my hands down toward my panties to remove them, Joey pounces on me. “Uh-uh — let me.” His hands trail down my torso until he slips his hand inside my panties. “Are you always this wet for me, Kelsey?”
“Yes,” I moan. “Please, Joey.”
“Soon, Angel — I’m taking my time with you tonight.” He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my thong and pulls it slowly down my legs. His lips trail a path from my ankle up to my thigh, stopping when he’s inches away from my pussy, then repeats the same motion up my other leg. When he makes it to the top of my thigh, he bites it — light enough not to leave a mark, but hard enough for me to feel it. Every movement of his mouth makes me wetter by the second. He’s got me so worked up that I’m sure a single touch of my pussy will have me trembling.
“Fuck, Joey!” I whine.
Joey slides up my body and kisses me roughly. With his lips still touching against mine, he whispers. “Tell me what you need, Kelsey — my fingers, my mouth or my cock?”
“All of the above.” I smile against his lips.
“Oooh, someone’s feeling frisky,” he whispers.
