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He looked at me, lowered his beer from his lips and sighed, “Because I’m so fucking amazed that you’re mine. I wasn’t even looking and then bam, I see your picture on the Pres’s phone. But damn, Angel, that picture didn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Not at all. And I was thinking of asking you to marry me again, but knowing that I'm starting to sound like a broken record.”
I took in a breath, knowing that everything from this moment was going to change forever, but I knew what I felt in my heart, and straight down to my soul, therefore, I whispered, “What if I were to say yes?”
And my man, bless his heart, was apparently tired of being shot down, shook his head and said, “I won’t be asking again until I know I’ll hear the one answer I want.”
I didn’t say anything, I just stared into his eyes.
He sighed, looked away, took a sip of his beer, then as he was doing that, his eyes strayed back to mine, and still, there I sat, staring at him, waiting, silently telling him to ask me.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered the bottle from his lips, all the while keeping his eyes locked with mine.
The bottle was resting on the side of the chair now, as he whispered, “Are you serious?”
I shrugged, but still kept my eyes locked with his.
Telling him that it was time. That it was time for him to ask me.
He swallowed, moved the beer to the ground, moved from the chair down to one knee in front of me, the fire dancing behind him, soft lyrics fromWhen I See You Smile by Bad Englishfilled the night air, and there, right in front of me, on one bended knee, he asked “Marry me?”
Savage groaned then and said, well begged really, “Please tell him yes. Dear god. He has asked you every single week for I don’t know how long. Put the fucking man out of his misery already.”
Laughing, since I had already planned on telling him yes when he asked again, and it was time. And apparently it was also time for Zeke to beat the hell out of Savage for interrupting our moment.
Therefore, I smiled at the side of his head and then said, “So… that all depends.”
If I had a video of how the moment that just played out, I would turn it into Ripley’s. I have never seen a neck turn that fast before in my life.
“Fucking hell. Did he just break the sound barrier?” Skinner asked with amusement in his tone.
He swallowed, gave me his undivided attention, and asked, “On what?”
I smiled, “On whether you have the ring or not.”
He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t move.
Not for long minutes.
And then I watched my big man, as he slowly moved his hand inside his kutte, and then pulled out a light blue box.
He opened the lid and then I moved my eyes to his and held out my left hand for him.
He caught onto the fact that I hadn’t looked at the ring yet, when he asked, “Don’t you want to see it?”
I shook my head, “I’ll be seeing it for the next however many years I’m on this earth, Zeke. What I want now is for my fiancé to take me to his room and fuck the ever loving hell out of me.”
Catcalls and wolf whistles came at our backs, but neither Zeke nor I paid them any attention as we made it into the clubhouse, and then up the stairs and to his room.
And yes, he proceeded to fuck the ever loving hell out of me.
“Harder,” I moaned as I pressed back into his thrusts.
“I go harder, Angel, we’re going to break the bed,” he gritted through clenched teeth behind me.
I turned my head over my shoulder and raised my brows at him, “I don’t fucking care. Bed’s can be bought. Walls can be fixed. Amazing sex like ours, it needs to be experienced.”
And that was how he went harder. We didn’t put any holes in the walls, and we didn’t break the bed.
