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I look up the stairs, where she’s tucked up cozy and safe. Without me wrapped around her. I need to fix that. I also need to stop letting my imagination runaway with me.
I lock the door. Check it. Then go to join Ava in our bed.
36
I sleep like a baby,our warm, naked skin touching all night. To think I can have this every night for the rest of my life?Someone. Someone who’s mine. Someonenoone can take away from me. I reach for my phone and seize the opportunity to catch another picture of her sleeping, her rich, dark hair fanning every inch of my chest.
I wake up the screen and point the camera down at her, smiling as I take a picture of her on me, then settle back and browse through my building collection of pictures. There’s nothing else on my phone since I met her. Just Ava. Ava walking, Ava running, Ava showering, cleaning her teeth, sleeping, eating, lost in thought. She’s beautiful in every single one.
Beautiful and mine.
Do it right.
I look at the time. Six thirty. I could call Kate and get Ava’s parents number. But I’m pretty sure I won’t win any brownie points if I call them at this time of day and introduce myself, then follow it up by advising them of my intention to marry their daughter. “Fuck it.” I wouldn’t win any brownie points if I did that atanytime of day.
Doesn’t matter. I don’t want brownie points. I want Ava. They have to like me because Ava loves me. It’s the rules. I can win them over. No sweat. So why the fuck am I actually sweating? And my heart’s beating way faster than normal? Asking her dad? It’s a bit traditional, and Ava and I aren’t traditional. I pout. We’re better than traditional.
I don’t want to wait. Now feels... right.
So fuck you, John.
I start the delicate task of peeling Ava off me, holding my breath when she stirs, breathing again when she settles and I’m free from beneath her. Then I stand by the edge of the bed staring at her, for the first time wondering how the fuck I’m going to do this.
I think back to the barrage of questions Hans hauled at me. When, where, and how?
Now.
Here.
But the how? Fuck, this is harder than I anticipated. And what if she says no? What if she runs away, scared? Because that’s what Ava does. Especially when she doesn’t want to face facts. Face the truth. And the truth is, she wants to spend her life with me, which means she should want to marry me. But I can see it now. Resistance. Other influences getting in her way. So, yes, asking her parents would be a bad idea. She’s too young. The age gap. The whirlwind romance, althoughromanceis a stretch. Ava will overthink this. Moving her in was a task. Every step of our relationship has been a mammoth effort. This is going to be no different.
I need to stop her running. Make her hear me.
I think for a moment, considering my options. And then I smile, my eyes falling to the bedside table and the drawer where those handcuffs are kept.
Memorable, to put it mildly.
Perfect.
Sous.
I creep to the bedroom door and hurry down to my study, going to the safe and pulling out the ring. My stomach flips.Fucking hell.I open the box and stare at the diamond. The damn thing sparkles, even without light to bounce off. I pull it from the cushion with delicate fingers and snap the box shut again, blindly putting it back in the safe as I study the showstopper. Simple. Elegant. Perfect.
Heading back upstairs, the ring firmly in my clenched fist, I mentally practice my proposal. “I adore you. Will you marry me?” I stroke my chin, pondering the words. “You’re my world. Will you do me the honor of also being my wife?” I stop at the top of the stairs.Will you promise to be mine forever and never break that promise?
In a nutshell.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
I enter the bedroom and find Ava’s rolled onto her back. “Handy,” I muse to myself, setting the ring on the bedside table next to the giftbag I brought home from the party. Because I know she was curious about that too and, actually, it’s going to be useful. I retrieve the cuffs from the drawer and gently, holding my breath, stretch her arm to the headboard, looping the cuff around her wrist and securing it, taking the weight of her arm as I lower it until I’m sure it’s not going to jar and wake her. I repeat on the other side, gingerly kneeling on the bed, my attention constantly split between Ava and the cuffs. I secure her other hand, gently releasing my hold as I pull away, watching her, arms spread, eyes closed, lips parted just a fraction.
And...breathe.
I step back and admire her as I drag my boxers down my legs, kicking them off, then take the ring and slip it onto her left finger, watching her oblivious face as I do. Perfect fit. My moves might appear confident. It’s a front. I’m just covering all my bases, making it pretty impossible for her to say no. And what Ava and I both know is that she can’t say no to me when shewantsme. So I’ll ensure she wants me.
Smiling, I take a picture of her in all her glory, then put on the track that was playing in the communal room last night.
I crawl onto her, not taking as much care now because it would be really handy if she’s awake and alert when I pop the question. She stretches, rolling her entire body into mine. I quell a groan, lifting my hips when her groin presses into my cock, which is also now waking up. Stirring. “Lord above,” I whisper, talking the rampant fucker down. Not now. I never dreamt I’d think it, but there’s something I want to do more than have sex with Ava.
