Katie’s laughter had died by the time she and Jared were saying their goodnights to her sister and Dario. The meal had gone by in a blur—her trepidation and nerves almost as huge as her anticipation. Something had changed between Jared and Dario. They’d obviously had some kind of clearing of the air while she and Meg had been down by the pool, because as the four of them prepared the casual meal and sat down together to feast on the delici

ous combination of lamb steaks and a range of antipasti Megan and their housekeeper Maria had prepared earlier it was obvious the two men were much easier in each other’s company than they had been since she and Jared had started dating.

Even so, the tension had mounted between Jared and her every time their eyes had met across the table. The hunger in his gaze, that concentrated need, had sparked a need of her own as he’d watched her with feral intensity and she couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him by making a production of consuming the succulent tiramisu.

She let the desire flow through her—knowing it was him and not the wine intoxicating her, of which she’d only taken a small sip—as he clasped her hand in his and all but dragged her through the terraced gardens, down to the guest house nestled amid a grove of wild flowers. Pulling her into the dark room, he slammed the door and pressed her back against the wood.

“I have something I need to ask you,” he said in a low, urgent tone. And the tension in her tummy twisted. Did he know? Had he guessed?

But then his hand grasped her leg and hooked it over his hip, bringing the thick ridge of his penis into contact with her clitoris. The pressure felt glorious, and frustrating, separated by his suit pants and the damp fabric of her panties. “But I have to have you first.”

“Me too,” she said. Gripping his head in both hands, she urged him on, buoyed by the sound of ripping lace and then the sibilant hum of his zipper, deafening in the darkness.

“I can’t wait,” he growled against her neck, plunging his fingers into the slick folds to test her readiness.

She bucked against the door as he touched the very heart of her, tightening the urgent spiral that had been torturing her for days, ever since he’d left. “Then don’t,” she said.

Grasping her hips in rough hands, he lifted her. She moaned, the guttural sob raw and basic as he impaled her in one solid thrust. She rode the thick invasion, powerless to limit the speed or depths of his thrusts as he forced her toward that bright, shining ledge, ruthlessly stroking that place deep inside.

In only a few thrusts, the coil tightened unbearably and then shattered, sending blistering shards of light through her body as his grunt of fulfillment matched her cry of release.

She was still floating on afterglow, the erotic smell of sex and sweat mingling with the light fragrance of sea and citrus and the deliciously familiar scent of him—the erection still firm inside her—when he lifted his head and pressed a hard, fleeting kiss to her lips.

“You have to marry me,” he whispered.

“Jared...” She stroked his face, the rough stubble making sensation skitter back to her core where he was still lodged inside her. The shock at his words made her almost as giddy as the sudden spurt of joy. He hadn’t asked, of course, he’d told her. And the circumstances could hardly be described as romantic.

“Give me an answer, damn it,” he said, sounding so bossy, and desperate, the joy leapt in her chest, overtaking the last of the fear she’d lived with for two days.

What was wrong with her? Megan was right. They loved each other. To distraction. He’d want this baby simply because she did. And any reservations they had, any fears, they’d get over together, like they had everything else.

But somehow she couldn’t help teasing him.

“I didn’t hear a question,” she said.

He swore softly, pressing his face into her neck, kissing the pulse point tenderly and then easing her off him. For a moment she felt bereft and shaky, her knees going liquid, but he held her as they adjusted their clothing. And finally pressed a kiss to her hair as he wrapped strong arms around her.

“I’m sorry. That’s got to be the worse proposal any woman ever got. I’ve been thinking about asking you for months and, when I finally get up the guts to do it, I mess it up.”

Months? He’d been planning this for months? The giddy leap of joy became all-consuming.

“It’s not the worst at all,” she said, taking pity on him in her euphoria. She drew back so she could look up into his face. “I think every woman should demand a mind-blowing orgasm right before a proposal.”

He let out a strained laugh. “Ya think?”

“FYI, the answer to the question you never actually asked is yes.”

He jerked in her arms and her heart melted into a puddle at her feet at the thought he had ever believed this might be in doubt.

“For real?”

She nodded.

The wayward tears stung the backs of her eyes again when he pressed a kiss to her forehead and sighed. “Thank God.”

She cradled his face to pull him back, so she could make out his expression better in the moonlight streaming through the guest house window. “But I’ve got something to tell you too.”

“What?”


Tags: Heidi Rice Billionaire Romance
Source: www.StudyNovels.com
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