“On what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I stroke his dick and widen my eyes. “Things.”
His eyes dance with delight, and he grabs me roughly and slides the ring onto my finger. “I’m asking one more time before I fuck you unconscious. Will you marry me, Charlotte Prescott?”
I kiss his lips with a huge smile. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now answer the damn question.”
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” I grin.
We smile broadly at each other; this proposal is just so Spencer.
“Good. Now get on your knees and finish what you started.”
Five years later
It’s 11:00 p.m. and I’m watching my beautiful man walking around the living room with our daughter in his arms as he tries to console her. Amelia is eighteen months old, teething, and in a world of pain.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, daddy’s here.”
If you thought Spencer Jones was swoony before, you should see him with a daughter. He worships the ground she walks upon.
I’m heavily pregnant with our second child, sprawled on the sofa, defeated by exhaustion. It’s been a long week.
This teething thing is tough. We’ve had no more than three hours sleep on any given night… and it’s about to get tougher.
“Babe,” I whisper.
“Yeah, angel.” He sits down on the couch at my feet. “Look how tired mummy is,” he says to Amelia as he rubs my feet.
“I’m having contractions.”
His face falls. “What?”
I nod.
“Now?”
“Uh-huh.”
He looks at me, deadpan, and he rushes to sit on the floor beside me, watching me for a moment.
“Lie to me,” he whispers. “Give me something to hang onto here.”
I smile softly. It’s such a Spencer thing to say. I reach up and run my fingers through his stubble. “We are on a yacht, sailing around the Caribbean.”
He smirks. “Yes.”
“And I’m wearing nothing but a gold string bikini.”
He leans forward and runs his fingers through my hair. “God, this sounds so good.”
“We’ve been having crazy sex all day,” I whisper.
“Yeah I like it. What am I doing now?”
“Sleeping uninterrupted.”
He smiles and then bursts out laughing. “You’re right; sleep is my ultimate fantasy at the moment.”
Amelia struggles in his hold and breaks out crying again. He scoops her up into his arms. “Come on, baby, we’ve got to take mummy to the hospital. You can have a sleepover at Grandma’s.” He begins to take her upstairs to get her ready.
“Spence!” I call.
He turns back to look at me.
“One day, we’ll go to the Caribbean just so you can have your fantasy. I promise.”
He walks back over to me and kisses me softly, his hand resting tenderly on my huge stomach.
“Every day with you is my fantasy, angel. Every single day.”