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She rolls her eyes and within the next fifteen minutes, he has one similar to mine. “Does this mean I have to watch the shop while you honeymoon on some bare-arsed beach now?”
“Get back to work, lazy,” he teases, shooing her off.
Once she’s gone and he’s cleaned up his area, he grips my hips and pulls me to him.
“What does this make us now?” he asks playfully. “Engaged or married?”
We both smile, no doubt having the same conversation when we made our relationship official all those years ago. Even when confusion and anger divided us when we were teens, our hearts always knew and brought us back together again. Our love was never a lie. It was the truest thing either of us has ever known.
“We’re Penn and Cope,” I tell him, with a peck to his lips. “Best fucking friends. Like always. Two tornadoes. But instead of bouncing off each other and wreaking havoc alongside the other, we’ve become one. Unstoppable.”
“Sounds way more badass than ‘we’re engaged,’” he agrees. “As long as you’re mine, I don’t care what we’re called.”
“But for the record,” I tell him softly, kissing a trail to his ear, “you are my fiancé now. Don’t put it past me to piss on your leg so everyone knows to stay the fuck away.”
He laughs, clearly amused at my throwing his words from so long ago back at him. “Okay, psycho fiancé,” he rumbles as he reaches down to grab my dick through my slacks that’s hard as stone. “We better make this official.”
He tugs my hand and leads me out of his office.
“We’re going to crunch numbers,” we both call out to Faye.
Neither of us waits for an answer. The trip upstairs is a mad dash of removing clothing, bumping of teeth as we desperately kiss, and a groan of pleasure when we sink down into the bed. With practiced ease, he lubes up and slides into me from behind. I love fucking Cope, but I love it even more when he’s fucking me.
“I love you,” he moans, his hips flexing as his lips press kisses to my shoulder.
“I love you too,” I rasp back. “I always have.”
The End
