“Hush now.” Everything seems tangled by my thoughts as he lifts my hand, my body comprehending his actions before my brain does. His lips are soft as he kisses each of my fingertips in turn. “Do you know, I adore you.” By his tone, he might be discussing the weather. “I suppose I’m just a little slow on the uptake when it comes to love.”
“Oliver?” Loves.Loves me?
His answer is a hum that’s not quite a confirmation as he presses a kiss to my palm. “Your eyes look so soft. Is it tears, or is it wonder?”
“Tryshock?”
“Eve.” My name is a chastisement that feathers across my lips as he lifts my hand to the back of his neck.
“Wait.” My hand slips to his warm chest, the scent of him, of soap, spice, and man, calling to me on some level I don’t understand. “Wait just a minute. Are we talkingstrong levels of affectionhere? That you love having me around?”
He smirks, yes, smirks, with intent, and my heart begins to dance like a highly strung Chihuahua. On crystal meth.
“Well, I lovehavingyou, yes. But this is much bigger than that. Perhaps I should tell you how I admire you ... ardently.”
A smile catches in the corner of my mouth. I can’t stop it from spreading. “Have you struggled in vain? Your feelings can’t be repressed?”
“This will not do,” he murmurs, pressing his hand over my mouth. “Sweet, lovely, frustrating Eve, I love you.”
His declaration brings emotions I never could’ve anticipated—feelings I’ve never experienced before. My hand clasps the back of his neck as my vision blurs, my heart overflowing with joy, with tenderness, with desire, and with every related emotion possible.
“You.” He breathes the word, gathering me close. “Do you remember telling me what you thought love would look like?”
“Yeah,” I answer, recalling the conversation and my harsh words.
“Love is choosing that person always, you said. That made sense to me somehow. I’ve never believed people just fall spontaneously in love. It has to be a choice. A choice to love or not. And I stand by that, because I didn’tfallin love with you, Eve. It didn’t happen by chance, and it wasn’t a mistake. My heart chose you, my darling.” He sweeps the hair from my face and presses his lips to my head. “And when you’re driving me up the wall, when we argue and snipe and can’t seem to agree on anything, my heart still chooses you. Again and again, over and over, without doubt and without fear, because even at those moments, I would still rather be with you than anyone else in the world.”
I begin to laugh softly and give my head a slow shake.
“Was that not romantic enough?” Oliver asks, lifting my watery gaze to meet his bemused one.
“That’s not it.” This man loves me. He lovesme. And I am tired of fighting my feelings. The good, the bad, the ugly—the ugly pretty—I want every part of him as desperately as I want his kisses. “It just occurs to me that, by that explanation, I must love you too.”
“Eve.” His voice breaks over my name as he pulls my body flush with his. The pool cue falls from my nerveless fingers, clattering discordant and ignored to the floor. His lips are so tender, and I taste whisky from his tongue as we kiss and we kiss, as we share love and joy and relief. Until that unseen corner is inevitably turned, and our kisses change in strength and depth, becoming deeper anddesperate. My moan vibrates through us both, his hands beginning to roam—the base of my throat, my ribs, my waist—when he pulls back, his face made of shadows and determination. He takes my breast full in his hand, plumping lushly, rolling the pebble of my nipple between his fingertips.
“You have become everything to me.” Our mouths meet again, our touches turning frantic, our tongues tangling and our teeth clashing. We kiss as we live, wild for each other.
His T-shirt comes off, mine next, his hands framing my breasts, my nipples aching peaks that he sucks into his mouth.
“Oh, God!” My body bows and twists, his fingers echoing the sucking pull of his lips, liquid hot pleasure bursting through me.
“Darling, I need you.”
“Yes.” With my whispered assent, his hands slip under my thigh, lifting me onto the pool table. Lifting my knee, he drives himself between the clasp of my thighs. We both groan as hard meets soft. “Take these off.” I tug at the waist of his pajama pants, sliding my foot against his thigh.
“You drive me insane.” His words are all ache and gravel, the rasp of his stubble making me pulse and shiver. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”
“Same,” I pant out, my thoughts fragmenting at the threat of his teeth.
“Kissing you makes me feel I could explode with happiness.” His arm at my back is a brace, balls clicking and rolling as he lays me against the green baize. “Fucking you feels like a religious experience.”
“Hallelujah. But less talking, more worshipping.”
“Shut up,” he rasps, playfully biting my shoulder. “You know you love what this mouth can do.”
He’s so right. I think it will always be like this between us. Give and take, push and pull, driving each other crazy all day long.And just when I think it can’t get any better than this, Oliver pulls back, and for a moment, he just stares down at me. I swallow hard, overcome by the love in his eyes. Love and maybe a little surprise, like he’s not sure how he found himself here.
I close my eyes, screwing them tight, imprinting the moment behind my lids.I love him.
