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There was no reason to half-ass anything.
I was never the type not to give it my all. That was why this thing with Raleigh was going so far, so fast.
I wanted her.
I’d always known what I wanted, and I trusted my gut.
My gut was telling me exactly what I should do—and that was take her and keep her.
Make her mine forever.
I wasn’t at the point where I’d propose, but I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I felt it was the right time.
“You’re not paying attention.” She yanked on the hair she had fisted in her hands. “Lick me!”
I liked this assertive, drunk Raleigh. I liked her a lot.
I made a mental note to get her drunk more often.
“Yes, ma’am,” I teased.
Then I did what I wanted, and she forgot that she was supposed to give instructions.
It was when I’d brought her nearly to the brink of orgasm and stopped that she finally realized I wasn’t doing as I was told. However, at that point, she was too far gone to care.
Before she had a chance to protest, I was yanking the rest of my clothes free and crawling up between her legs, thrusting inside. I gave her my full length without giving her a chance to adjust.
Which, in turn, had us both crying out. Her in surprise and pleasure, and me in such exquisite agony that I could barely find it in me to breathe.
Even though I’d had her regularly and had been masturbating on my own when she wasn’t around to give it to me, I was on the brink before I’d even gotten three thrusts into that tight body of hers.
Everything was just so hot and wet that I couldn’t function, let alone tell myself that it was too soon. That I hadn’t been going long enough yet for either of our best interests.
But then she started to ripple around me, and I started to spurt inside of her in reaction.
I couldn’t help it.
With Raleigh, she rendered me utterly useless when it came to making her mine.
“Fuck!” I snarled.
Or was it Raleigh?
I wasn’t sure, to be honest.
But in the end, I wasn’t sure that I really cared, because I was inside of her and everything in my life was fucking right.
For the first time in forever, I knew what I wanted out of life.
Her. Us. Me and her. Kids. Three. A house. Two cars. A white goddamn picket fence.
Everything all centered around her, though.
And as I looked into her eyes and saw the same feelings that I was currently feeling rising in my chest, I knew that we’d make this work.
I wasn’t going to ask her to marry me today…but I knew it’d happen.
Soon.
“I love you, Raleigh.”
She closed her eyes and smiled.
Then she turned her head on the pillow, with me still inside her, and started to snore.
I had no other recourse but to laugh.Chapter 17I’m mom’s favorite.
-Text from Raleigh to Croft
Raleigh
“Gotta go change and get to practice,” Ezra growled against my mouth. “Be good.”
I smiled into the semi-darkness, patting his muscular forearm, and falling right back to sleep.
At least, I would have had the words that I’d always wanted to hear not fallen from those perfect lips.
“Love you, Raleigh.”
By the time I processed them, and realized that I needed to return the sentiment, he was already starting that loud truck of his up and backing out of my driveway.
I reached for my phone to type out a text but realized it wasn’t by the bed.
Frowning, I got up, feeling something inside of my chest practically screaming in excitement, and started my search.
I found it all in the living room—my dress, shoes, and panties. My purse with my dead phone inside, and my Chapstick.
I made a girlish squeak of excitement as I snatched my phone up, leaving all the clothes where they were, and practically skipped to my room.
It wasn’t until I’d jumped on the bed and dove for the charging cable, knocking my newly casted arm on the bedpost, that I told myself that I needed to calm down. If not for any other reason than to not re-break my already healing arm.
That would be something I’d do.
Plugging it in and leaving it on the bed to reboot, I rushed to the shower and turned it on.
My eyes went to the green bottle of Irish Spring body wash that Ezra had brought over the last time he’d spent the night and inhaled deeply as I relished the smell of him in my shower.
Then I saw his razor and had a moment of panic that he’d done something crazy like shave his beard, but then I remembered that he liked to trim up his neck to keep it clean and tidy.
Panic attack prevented, I rushed through the rest of my shower, being sure to keep my casted arm in the air to prevent another visit to the doctor’s office today.
