He grins wolfishly and lays me back on the couch.
“You’re wearing nothing but knickers under that shirt.”
“Indeed,” I reply with my best British accent imitation. “I am wearing knickers under this shirt. Should I be wearing trousers?”
“I love your smart mouth, darling.” He chuckles and pulls my panties down my hips, off my legs, and throws them onto the floor. “What’s under here?” He lifts my shirt to find me braless. “Were you in bed, my love?”
“I was napping.”
“Mmm . . .” He pulls a nipple into his mouth and gently sucks while tweaking the other between his fingers. My back arches up off the couch. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I’m not.”
He kisses up my neck as I feel him shifting, pulling something out of his wallet, and then tossing his wallet onto the floor.
“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes.”
“Maybe you should take them off for me.”
I tug the hem of his T-shirt up over his head and drop it over the edge of the couch before gliding my hands over every inch of smooth skin and hard muscle. “I love your body.”
He groans and buries his face in my neck, kissing and biting up to my ear.
“Take my trousers off, darling.”
I grin and pop the button on his jeans, slide my hands into his underwear, cup his ass in my hands, and push his pants down around his thighs. His cock springs free.
“Oh, someone’s happy to see me.”
“I’m bloody ecstatic to see you, love.”
I take the condom out of his hand and sheathe him myself, then take his heavy fullness into my hand and guide him to my opening.
“This has to be slow, Grace. You’re so fucking small. I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me, babe.”
He kisses me hard as he slowly pushes inside me. When he’s seated fully, he braces himself on his elbows at either side of my head, his hands bracing my head. He’s panting, doing his best not to move quite yet.
“You feel amazing, Grace.”
“God, so do you.” He begins to move, slowly at first, but before long his thrusts speed up. He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, opening me up farther so he can go deeper, and we both sigh in pure bliss.
I feel myself contract around him as the energy makes its way through me. I tighten my grip on his shoulders and bite my lip as I come apart beneath him, rocking my hips quickly, insistently.
“Ah, Grace, you’re taking me with you, love. Fucking hell, I’m coming.” With a growl, he rests his forehead on mine and clenches his eyes shut as he finds his own release.
“I’m so happy that you came to find me, Jacob.”
“Always, darling.” He kisses my cheek and smiles down at me. “Shall we continue our lesson in the bedroom?”
“Aye, we shall.”
epilogue
Seven months later . . .
How was your last day of class, darling?” Jacob meets me outside of the lodge and hugs me as soon as I climb out of my new car. He said that I needed a new one, and surprised me with it last month.
I kept insisting the one I had was fine, but when the battery died for the fourth time, he insisted.
And I must admit, it’s not bad driving a Lexus. It’s quite nice, actually.
“It was . . . long.” I laugh and hug him back as he lifts me up off my feet and kisses me soundly. “I’m ready for summer.”
“Excellent. You can move in with me now.”
I shake my head and prop my hands on my hips, but he pretends he doesn’t see it and leads me through the lobby of the lodge, past a waving Jeanette, to his suite.
“We’ve talked about this, Jacob. I’m not ready to move in together. It’s only been seven months.”
“That’s plenty of time for me to know that I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to live up here with me.”
My heart stills and then picks up double time as it always does when he tells me he loves me. It never fails to surprise me.
“I love you, too, you know that.”
“Brilliant. I’ll arrange for the movers.”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
“Jesus, Gracie, just bloody marry me so we can move past this ridiculous argument and we can stop hopping from one house to the other every fucking night!”
I stand and stare at him and then laugh myself silly. “And I thought I was the klutz.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“That was the clumsiest marriage proposal I’ve ever heard!”
He swears under his breath, props his hands on his hips, and hangs his head before looking up at me. “You’re a stubborn woman.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask softly.
“Sure about what?” He takes my hand and guides me into the living room, sits in a brown leather overstuffed chair, and tugs me into his lap. “Talk to me, Gracie.”
“How do you know for sure that I’m the one you want?”