Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I already put a call into the jeweler Rhodes and Brady used when they popped the question to their women.” He flashed me a cocky smirk. “’Cause we both know that the whole proposal thing is merely a formality. You’re gonna marry me, even if I have to withhold orgasms from you again to get you to say yes sooner rather than later.”
Only a couple of days later, I accepted his ring…before he finally let me have a mind-blowing orgasm.
EPILOGUE
GAGE
“Happy Valentine’s Day, nerd,” I whispered in Rory’s ear as I curled my arm around and held a brightly wrapped gift in front of her.
Rory giggled and grabbed the present, holding it to her chest as she spun around to face me. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
“Open it,” I told her with a grin.
“Twist my arm,” she snarked with another giggle. After yanking off the bow, she owned the box, then dropped it once she’d pulled out the contents. It was a red T-shirt with a gaming joke to go with her collection.
Why I lose at gaming:
My team partners: 52%
The game: 27%
My mouse: 12%
My keyboard: 8%
My fault: 1%
Rory burst out laughing and threw her arms around me. “I love it.”
“I love you,” I murmured before taking her lips in a deep kiss.
“I love you, too, geek,” she breathed when we came up for air. “Want to know what I got you for Valentine’s Day?”
“I feel like the gallant thing to say is that all I need is you. But I never claimed to be chivalrous. And I’m rooting for some barely-there, lacy red lingerie.”
Rory laughed, her hazel eyes twinkling merrily. “Why don’t you waltz your cute butt into the living room and wait for me?”
“Oh, baby,” I growled, “you’re gonna end up with a red ass to match that lingerie.”
“Promises, promises,” she sing-songed as she sashayed off toward the bedroom.
I exhaled slowly, trying to calm down as I ambled into the living room. Candles spread throughout the space cast a soft glow that enhanced the moonlight coming in from the glass walls that looked out over Central Park.
My lips curved into a smile when I spotted the Thai food on the coffee table, along with two beers.
“I thought I’d recreate our first date, but I got a new jersey.”
I turned at the sound of my fiancée’s sultry voice, and if I’d been a cartoon, my eyes would have bugged out of my head and my tongue would have been lolling out of my mouth.
“Fucking hell,” I breathed as I took in the vision before me.
Rory wore a New York Nighthawks jersey, but it was skintight, dipped low in the front, and stopped just below her tits. My eyes continued traveling down the expanse of her body, over her slightly protruding belly and down to her barely-there, lacy red panties.
“What do you think?” She fluffed her springy curls that I loved to clench in my fists while I fucked her. Her pouty lips pursed, and she ran her hands down her torso to splay over her baby bump.
“Tongue-tied,” I croaked.
She blushed, making my already hard dick swell, stretching the skin to the point of pain. “Are you ready for the rest of your present?” Her smile was smug as she glided her hands up to the hem of her jersey.
“I’m not sure my heart can take any more,” I rasped.
“Okay,” she shrugged, then started to turn, and I lunged, making it across the room in the blink of an eye.
Laughter bubbled up from her chest when I caught her and swept her up into my arms and stalked over to the couch. I dropped down and settled her on my lap, straddling me. “Show me,” I demanded.
“You know how you're always reminding me who I belong to?”
“Damn straight.”
Rory grinned. “Well, just in case someone misses the giant rock on my finger and the tummy bump, I wanted to make sure everyone knows I’m yours.”
She held out her arm and twisted it to show me the underside.
Inked on her skin was a football with the number thirty-nine inside it. My number. And just under the ball was my—soon to be hers—last name in a pretty script.
“I know I always tell you how hot you look wearing my number.” I swallowed hard and bent my head to kiss her tattoo. “Nothing compares to how fucking spectacular you look with it branded on your silky skin.”
“I love you, geek,” she murmured as she looped her arms around my neck.
“Love you, too, nerd.” I gripped the hem of her jersey and growled, “Now let’s see what you’ve got hidden under your shirt.”
I whipped it off her head, and my mouth went dry.
Red. Lacy. Barely there.
“I have something else for you,” I murmured as I traced circles on Rory’s back with my fingertips.