Page 120 of The Auction
“After you saw me with those girls… when I watched your heart break… I threw them out. I scrubbed myself raw in the shower and threw up.” My voice goes rough, heavy. “I hated myself for years. Maybe even hated myself until that auction.”
I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing over damp skin. “I’m sorry for what you saw. I hate that you saw it. I hate that day. I wish it never fucking happened.”
Her eyes are shining, her lips trembling, and she presses her forehead to mine like she’s trying to make up for every second we lost.
I cup her face in both hands, my thumbs brushing over damp cheeks. “I thought I couldn’t love you right,” I admit, my voice low and raw. “Because I was broken. Because all I knew was the kind of love that hurt. But I was wrong, Cricket.”
Her breath catches, her eyes shining in the low light.
“Icanlove you. Idolove you. And no one—no one—will ever love you the way I do. No one will see you the way I see you.Every stubborn, smart, beautiful inch of you. You’re it for me. Always have been.”
Her lips tremble, and the tears come faster, sliding warm over my fingers. But she’s smiling through them, the kind of smile that steals my air.
“Don’t say it back,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers. “Not after tonight. Not after your first time. I don’t want tonight to confuse you. I just need you to know.”
Her chin wobbles, and I kiss her before she can answer—slow and deep, letting it linger until the ache between us shifts from heavy to hungry.
The kiss changes, turns sharper, needier. Closure blurs into passion until she’s tugging at me, urging me over her. I brace my weight on one arm, looking down at her, and she gives me that sly little smile.
“How many times can you go in a day?” she teases, her hand sliding between us.
The second her fingers wrap around me, I’m swelling in her palm, my cock hardening fast.
I smirk, my voice low. “I don’t know… but I’m more than happy to find out with you.”
Her laugh melts into a soft gasp when I kiss her again, my hips shifting until the head of my cock glides through her folds, hot and slick from the night we’ve already had.
Then I sink into her in one slow, steady push, her warmth pulling me under until I’m home.
Until she’s mine.
Ilean against the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, watching Cassidy in the shower.
Whoever decided on this clear-glass design deserves a medal. I’ve got an unobstructed view ofallof her—wet skin, curves I can trace in my sleep, water streaming down her back.
She tips her head back under the spray, lathering her dark hair, and my eyes catch on the hickey I left on the side of her breast. It makes my chest tighten in a way I’m not used to.
I’ve never been happier in my life.
And then it hits me—loud and sharp in my brain, like a bell.I’m going to marry this woman.
No question. No hesitation. I’m going to put a ring on her finger and make her mine in every way. A smile pulls at my mouth as I think about picking it out. I’ve already got something else for her, sitting on the bed—a black gift box with a bow that I can’t wait to see her open.
My phone rings.
Jonathan.
That fucker isjust nowcalling me back? I called him last week about the horse catastrophe and never got a response.
I answer. “Well, look who’s not dead after all.”
“Sorry, man. Things have been busy.”
“What do you need?”
“Have you seen Cass? I can’t reach her.”
Shit.
