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She buries her face in her hands. “Oh God,” she cries, mortified. I just keep grinning because that’s my ring shining on her finger.
I tug on the sheet, pulling it free from her body.
“I’m going to take the fact you’re wearing my ring as an agreement that you’re going to be my wife, Callie Street,” I rumble, laying back on the bed and pulling her so she’s forced to straddle my body.
We line up together perfectly, my cock tucked in against her hot center and the side of my shaft pressing against the lips of her pussy. I instantly feel her wet heat slip around me.
“I want to marry you more than anything in the world.”
“No more doubts?” I ask, cupping her soft breasts in my hands. I lean up to lick one of her nipples, feeling like a man who has gone for years without eating and knowing that Callie is the only sustenance I’ll ever need.
“There will probably be hard times, Reed.”
“Every marriage has them, sweetheart,” I croon, as I hold her hips and move her back and forth—ever so slowly—on my shaft, using her pussy to stroke my cock.
“I may fall apart on you sometimes, but I swear I’m going to try hard to get stronger and I’m never going to push you away again.”
“I may act like an asshole from time to time, but I promise you that I’m a man that knows you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I will always love you.
“Shut up and make love to me, Reed.”
“That I can do,” I groan, leaning up.
“About damn time,” she teases, as I capture her mouth with all the hunger I have inside of me.
CHAPTER 44
Callie
I stretch, letting out a contented sigh as my body protests. I ache in all the right places. Reed made love to me three times last night, and each time was better than the time before. Then again, it always seems to get better between us.
I look down at the ring on my finger and smile. I’m engaged. I haven’t told anyone back home yet. It didn’t seem like the kind of news that I should share with Katie right now. Still, I can barely believe how happy I am.
Well, happy and a little lonely. Reed had to be at a meeting early with his record company and lawyers. It sounded long and boring, so I opted to stay at Reed’s house alone. I spent the morning reading and now I’m relaxing out by the pool. This one isn’t as great as the one back home in Macon. Still, it’s really nice and the heat isn’t as scorching as summer days in Texas can be. I adjust my sunglasses and let out a yawn. Making love all night and some of the morning can wear you out—especially if your man keeps you out till midnight or later because he got in a fight. I smile. I really am kind of embarrassed about last night, but not too bad. Reed’s right. I spilled a glass of wine, and it could have happened to anyone. However, I doubt I’ll ever wear the dress that Reed bought me again. I’m also really looking forward to going back to Macon, but I managed to hold it together—even in a crowded, chaotic police station. I’m getting stronger. Not so long ago, I wouldn’t have given myself credit for that, but Reed has made me see that I have been pushing myself for years and not even realizing it. That’s why I’ve made the choices I’ve made—like travel nursing. Heck, even agreeing to be in Katie’s wedding was a way to push myself. I can see that now. The me I was five years ago would have told Katie no.
I am getting better, and I need to stop discounting the progress—small or big—that I’ve made. I look back down at my ring. I’m going to marry Reed, and I will bust my ass to get even better so that I can be the kind of wife he deserves—so that I can be the woman that both of us deserve.
“You must be awfully proud of yourself.”
I jerk myself out of my thoughts and frown when I see a tall and very thin woman standing in front of me. She’s wearing a black pant suit, designer sunglasses, and more diamonds on her hand than should be allowed. She’s older than I am. She actually looks like she might be about twenty years or better older than me—which is a relief. I’d rather not meet any of Reed’s old girlfriends today. I’ve had a pretty dang full week as it is.
“Do I know you?” I ask the woman, who honestly looks like she needs a sandwich or two. It might at least help her mood, because it’s clear to see that she’s intent on being bitchy.
