“Fearless,” she echoes.
I drop the flimsy fabric and stoop to take her pebble hardened nipple between my teeth. “I wanted you so fucking bad that night.” I suck it in and pinch her other nipple between my fingers.
“Oh, Josh.” She sighs as her head falls back.
I lift her like the bride she’s about to become and carry her to the bedroom to treat her like the princess she is.
For a little while, our troubles melt into oblivion. I hope they stay there, but life has taught me differently.
I pray to the highest heavens this works.
Chapter Five
Sophie
Holy fuck the man can kiss! At first I lose every semblance of reason under his spell. But the bummer-man delivers, and he’s in full form this afternoon.
You know this is only temporary, right?
Shut up.
He won’t love your sorry ass forever.
Shut. Up.
You might as well get out now with your dignity intact.
Shut up!
You know, maybe you’ll be able to handle the rejection and hurt again, but what about Charlie?
SHUT UP!!! I don’t have to run anymore! I can let the walls stay down.
This constantly replaying argument with myself is killing me! I keep trying to convince myself, but I’m a walking contradiction.
What will make me stay or go? Is there a magic solution that will give me peace and security? Or is it just going to take time?
And honestly, how the fuck much more do I need from the man to know he’s mine? To know Charlie and I are safe?
How much more do I need to understand it internally and to finally silence my tortured mind?
I’ve already leaped with both feet!
I’ve said yes to marrying him, we purchased a home together, we work together—Charlie and I travel on a tour bus with him—I’ve seen him at his best and at his worst. I’ve seen him naked both physically and emotionally, and I was right—I knew when he finally gave his heart away he’d be all in.
He is all in with us.
I know it, I feel it, I sense it. There is nothing to be afraid of any longer.
Jim is dead.
And Josh is not Jim.
But it doesn’t stop the thoughts that gnaw and nag like a deeply embedded splinter. It’s been ingrained in me—love isn’t real and it doesn’t stay.
Then I think about the people in Josh’s world—his mom and dad, his uncle and aunt—they’re the kind of people who seem to stay forever.
I believe Josh is that kind of person.
“What are you thinking about? ’Cause I know it’s not us and right now.” Josh just worked my pants down my legs and I’m a thousand miles away.
I put my hand on his jaw and guide him back up on the bed to me. His dark, hypnotic eyes bring me back to the present.
God, please make me right! I love him!
His jaw clenches sexily at my touch before he lands on top of me with a high voltage kiss that curls my toes. I grab his ass and pull him against me as I spread my legs wider, welcoming him.
He hikes up my skirt and grinds his amazing shaft over my already dripping panties.
“Hmmmm … you’re going to feel so fucking incredible on our wedding night,” he purrs into my ear.
“Yeah …” I think. “Wait, what?”
“We have to wait for the wedding night,” he declares.
“You’re joking, right?” I chuckle.
“Nope, no joke.” He’s still sucking on the flesh on my neck and pressing his muscular chest against my tits.
“Mr. Wedding-night, I’d like to remind you that we have already christened every room in this farmhouse.”
“Shh …” He places a tentative finger over my wanton lips. “We’re just making out like horny teenagers—and by the way, I’m psyched to have rounded second base.”
“I can’t wait till you slide into home.”
“Oh fuck, woman! You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” He brushes my lips with one more kiss then crawls painstakingly off of me to stand up and rearrange his bulging package.
“Where are you going?” I ask, my body immediately protesting his absence.
“It’s not where I’m going. It’s where you’re going.”
“What?” I’m so confused.
He looks over toward the window and then at the bedside clock. “You have a lot to do between now and Saturday.”
Josh goes into the walk-in closet.
“I do?” I sit up half-naked in the bed and crane my neck to see what he’s up to.
He reemerges with a stuffed dufflebag in one hand and a golden envelope in the other with the word “Instructions” scrawled across it.
“Now, no cheating,” he warns playfully as he holds the envelope out of my reach. “And zero protesting.”
“Oh, there’s definitely going to be protesting.” I think of my poor, needy body.
He takes my hand and pulls me off the bed. “Up and at ’em!”
“Josh …” My tone sounds like Charlie’s when she wants a cookie.
“Do you love me?”
I sigh. “Of course I do.”
“Then trust me.”
***