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I pull her up without pulling from her body, desperate to see her face. I pull the scarf from her face to find her eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.

“Clean my cock,” I hiss, pressing on her shoulders until she’s on her knees.

My cock hasn’t flagged at all, and I hiss when her lips touch the tip. This is fucking torture. I’m too sensitive for the attention, but I clench my hands at my side, and let her go to work.

Her eyes open, taking me in as I watch her, and once she’s done, once my dick isn’t covered with our combined orgasms, I force her to her feet and crash my mouth against hers. We moan in unison, hands holding each other, hearts pounding out the very same rhythm.

“Did I just get you pregnant?” I whisper against her lips.

She smiles, and my fucking heart stops.

“No, you idiot.” She steps back and slaps me hard against the chest. “I’m on fucking birth control.”

“That was fun,” I tell her, my hand caressing down the side of her face. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I loved it,” she answers, her cheeks still flushed from our afternoon adventures.

“I love you.”

Her eyes shine as she watches my face, her head tilting to lean into my touch, and fuck if it isn’t enough for me. Just the way she’s looking at me will keep me the happiest man for the rest of my life.

“I love you, too.”

Maybe I was wrong. Now I’m the happiest man in the world.Chapter 38Whitney

I pull the phone away from my ear and smile.

Wren’s laughter finds me even though my cell is eight inches from my face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Flynn,” Wren snorts. “I’m going through footage from last night, and this girl just gave him the slip again.”

It’s been several weeks since we got back from California and every second has been filled with smiles, laughter, and love.

I never would’ve imagined my stalker would turn into the love of my life, but here I am, walking down the street to meet two friends and listening to him cackle like a hyena with a wide smile on my face.

“Again?” I grin wider. “How many times is that now?”

“I’ve lost count. You’d think a trained former FBI agent could keep an eye on this girl, but she’s making it impossible for him.”

I chuckle as I step to the side to let another couple in love pass by.

“Where are you? It’s noisy.”

“I have that lunch date with Pam and Anna, remember?”

“That’s right,” he says, but his laughter fades away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Trying to find her on the next camera.”

“And it’s just that easy to follow her in the city?”

“New York has tons of cameras.”

“That you’re accessing legally, correct?”

His laugh tells his answers. His lips lie. “Of course.”

We don’t really talk about work, but sometimes he lets it slip when he’s telling stories about his friends.

“Oh shit. Deacon isn’t going to be happy about this.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Hey, babe, have fun, but I gotta go.” There’s a crackle on the line. “Hey, Ignacio. Don’t we have a rule about kissing clients?” The phone goes dead, and I’m still plastered to the wall of a flower shop.

“There you are!” Anna wraps her arms around me for a hug, and just like every time before, I’m a little shocked at how free she is with her affection.

The first time I saw her after her honeymoon, the conversation was light and polite. She must’ve deemed me as one of her closest friends because every time she’s greeted me since has been with a beautiful blazing smile and a hug. I let her warmth envelop me, and I hug her back.

“Where’s Pam?”

“She’s meeting us. Let’s go, I’m starving.”

“Didn’t you text me that you spent the morning puking?”

She laughs like I’ve told a hilarious joke.

“And that’s the way it is sometimes according to the books I’ve been reading.”

“And Deacon?”

“He’s ecstatic, reading the same books. He’s going to be the best dad.” Her arm hooks in mine and we make quick work of getting to the café. “Who were you on the phone with?”

“Wren,” I answer.

“Planning your filthy afternoon?”

My cheeks no longer heat. Since we’ve become fast friends, I’ve spilled my guts to Anna about what Wren and I do, only keeping certain details out of the conversation because some things aren’t meant for other’s ears.

“Talking about Flynn,” I clarify. “Seems he’s having a little trouble in New York.”

“That girl is giving him a run for his money,” Anna confirms. I keep my mouth closed about what I overheard Wren just say on the phone because it’s not my story to tell. “All of the guys are getting cheap thrills from the trouble she’s causing for him.”

I can just picture the serious man with a sexy British accent give that girl the business for getting into trouble once again.

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