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“A bed?” She twisted her face into disbelief. “Again? We did that already.”
He managed to keep a straight face. “Not yours yet.”
“Hmm, true.” She took his hand and led him upstairs to her room, where the day before she’d thrown away the picture of Chuck at the Brewers game with no regret or sadness, just certainty that it was time.
They took each other’s clothes off, silently, calmly, not feeling the need to make undressing a rushed production, not this time, not this night. Then they slid naked under the sheets to lie on their sides, face to face, skin to skin, absorbing each other’s warmth.
“This is as good as it gets.” She rubbed her face against his smooth shoulder.
“Hmm. If I try very hard, I can think of something else that’s just as good. Or maybe better.”
She bit his shoulder, used her tongue to soothe the spot and her lips to dry it. “Give me a hint?”
“Here it comes.” He rolled her to her back, stroked her stomach, long, slow sweeps that stopped short of her breasts, short of her sex, then circled it around her thighs, occasionally brushing gently across her curling hair, barely touching her clitoris with the tip of a finger.
She lay still, tortured by the teases, her body growing warmer and more impatient for what it ultimately wanted.
Finally his finger did more than brush her, it dipped down slowly, entered her, then settled onto her clitoris. Her hips lifted, tensed. She gripped the sheets with her hands, then reached for him. She wanted them together.
He retrieved a condom and put it on, rolled gently over her, kissing her neck, her collarbone, her mouth.
“Hello.” She whispered the word, lying under him, legs parted for him, hands trailing down the muscled slope of his back. “Welcome home.”
He smiled at that, pushed slowly into her, holding her gaze, his smile faltering only when the pleasure closed his eyes for a moment. Then he was back with her, moving with her, mouth leisurely exploring her lips. When he spoke it was in a low murmur, without warning.
“I love you.”
“Justin.” A thrill shot through her, mixing joy with her arousal. She hooked her legs over his, wrapped her arms tightly around him to merge them as closely as possible. They rocked together, a slow steady rhythm that was more about love than orgasms, more about peace than desperation, with nothing of the rough pain/pleasure mix they’d shared before.
They let the sensations and emotions build, keeping pace with 214
each other until she shattered into a climax only moments before he did, her heart overflowing with what she felt.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” His voice tickled her neck. She smiled lazily.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Justin.”
He lifted his head, looked down at her with those intensely brown eyes she hoped to be able to look into for the rest of her life. “Are you ready for some pizza?”
She was startled. Pizza didn’t seem quite the logical next step, at least not so immediately, but okay. “You’re hungry?”
“Oh, um. Yeah.” He slid out of her, sat up and reached for his clothes, looking oddly excited and uneasy. “Yeah, I had an early lunch.”
“Sure.” She got out of bed and rummaged for nonsequined underwear in her dresser, wondering what was so enticing about pizza when they had each other and a bed and the rest of the weekend to enjoy, but okay. Maybe he was really hungry.
“Ready?” He was dressed, standing by the door. She was still half-naked. Hello? Did she look ready?
“Not quite. Almost.”
She pulled on her sweats, her socks, but decided to skip slippers since he was practically tapping his foot with impatience.
Downstairs, he started opening cupboards. “Plates? Glasses?”
“Here.” She took down two of each, got a couple of beers from the refrigerator and sat opposite him, surprised after all that when he didn’t dig right in.
“So.” He pushed the box toward her. “Ladies first.”
She smiled. Ever the gentleman, even when he was near death from starvation. The box opened easily.
“Mmm, veggie pizza, my favor—”
Her mouth refused to finish the word. Taped to the little three-legged plastic doohickey that kept the box from crushing was a ring. A diamond ring. A stunning diamond ring with a glittering stone, flanked by twisted white gold and more diamonds spilling down steps on its shoulders. And spelled out in sliced black olives on the by-now-tepid pie surface were two words: Marry Me.
