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He licks a trail up my neck and places an open-mouth kiss on my jaw that makes me shudder. Damn him. “Oh, Georgie, you’re braver than that.”
Am I though? Am I really?
I give him a skeptical glare. “How much pain are we talking about?”
He grins like the Cheshire Cat, his freaking blue eyes sparkling like sexy, rare gems. “I’ll make it hurt so good.”
“You can’t give me an orgasm while you’re inking me. My hand will need all your expert focus, and I’m assuming staying still is of the utmost importance, so that eliminates me riding you while you do it.”
He nips my bottom lip. “I’ll let you sit on my face after. And then ride me if that’s what you want.”
“You better,” I grumble, shoving him back and climbing out of the car, only to immediately huddle into my winter coat.
Freaking Maine in December.
He parked on the street, two storefronts down from the shop, all the way at the end of the strip. I spin on him. “Why didn’t you park in the back?”
He takes my hand and walks me onto the sidewalk, so I don’t get hit by an oncoming car. “They’re doing some construction back there,” he tells me, but there is a glint in his eyes that I can’t quite place. A glint that grows as he walks us toward the vacant building on the end, pulls out a random key, and inserts it into a lock.
“What are we doing here? I doubt I can get lidocaine cream in an empty building.”
“We’re having a quickie first. All that talk about you on my face and my dick made me hard. What’s the point of owning all these buildings if I can’t take advantage?”
While part of me is eager to agree, there is another part of me that—“What the fuck?!”
Lenox continues to hold my hand, giving it a firm yank when I stop moving and forcing me deeper into the space.
He licks his lips and turns back to me. “I was thinking this made sense as a waiting room and possible triage space if you need it.” He pans a hand around an open space where there are couches and comfy chairs and a front desk area filled with monitors and computers, separated from the sitting area by a large half wall. “There are eight patient rooms in the back, as well as a space for phlebotomy, an ultrasound room, and a room for prenatal nonstress tests. I was told bathrooms in OB-GYN offices are essential, so I had them install two over there”—he points toward the lab area—“and three more in the back patient area, including one for staff only.”
“Lenox…” My voice dies as my hand covers my mouth as I take in everything around me. He walks us back to the patient area, showing me one of the exam rooms completely outfitted with everything I’d ever need.
“It’s a big office, so if you wanted to hire staff or other providers, you can. There is also massive space in the back of the building for what I think could potentially be a birthing center, but there are a lot of laws with that, and I didn’t have time to navigate them before getting this front space ready. I figured you’d want to come up with the name for your clinic and put on the decorative finishing touches, so I didn’t do that.”
I can’t breathe. I. Can’t. Fucking. Breathe.
“You built me a clinic,” I croak as the first of the tears start.
He turns, and a smile erupts across his face as he reaches over and wipes a few away. “It’s just the start of one. You’re the one who’s going to build it.”
I stare around the massive space, walking from room to room, taking in all the equipment he purchased, the layout of each room, to the way it’s fucking painted in a soothing pale blue-gray. I even have a big, beautiful office just for me.
He did this.
He did all of this.
For me.
So I can have everything while living here with him in Maine.
“I’m doing this,” I say, almost bewildered, past the point of comprehension. “I’m really doing this. I’m living in Maine and setting up my own clinic.”
He turns to me, taking both my hands in his, staring intently into my eyes. “If that’s what you want, it’s all yours. If it’s not, then I’ll lease it out to someone else or sell the properties and we’ll go somewhere else. Whatever you want, Georgia, I want you to have.”
This man. This fucking man.
How do men like him exist when we’re taught from a fundamental age that they don’t? He broke my heart in the worst of ways, but no one could have rebuilt it as perfectly as he did. He made me stronger by breaking it, but now I’m invincible with his heart beating beside mine.
“It’s what I want. And I want the birthing center. And I want to hire on staff. And I want it. I want it all. With you.”
He cups my face in his hands. “It’s yours, Georgia. I’m in the process of having it moved to your name on the property. This is your start, and you can take it as far as your imagination and aspirations go.”
“EEEEEP!” I squeal at the top of my lungs, jumping up into Lenox’s arms and kissing him like a woman who couldn’t possibly be any more in love with her husband. “Okay,” I say, pulling back from him. “Thank you. I love it. I love you.”
“I love you.”
“Good. Because now it’s tattoo time. Ink me, baby, because we’re forever. Till death do us part.”
The End.
