Page 62 of Soaring Sweethearts

Oh, sugar cookies. She’d gone and said “peter” again, even though Millie told her not to. “I mean, when are you going to put your…your cock inside me?”

He let out his breath in a rush and swallowed hard. “We don’t have to do that. In fact, I just promised your father and brother that I wouldn’t. And there are lots of other ways I can make you feel good.”

What business was it of theirs what she chose to do with Jack? “Leave my family out of this. What you and I do is between you and me—no one else. I’m a grown woman, and I am sick to death of everyone treating me like I’m some porcelain doll. I want this with you, and I don’t want to wait.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I want it too. Believe me I do. But are you sure?” He caressed her hair ever so softly.

Why was he hesitating? Did he have doubts about her? Was she doing something wrong? “Why don’t you believe me? I know I’m not as experienced as the women you’re used to. If there’s something you want me to do differently, you just have to tell me.”

He gave a rueful chuckle. “There’s nothing I want you to do differently. And please don’t worry about not being experienced. I’m so honored that you want me to be your first, and I promise, sweetheart, I’m going to make it so good for you. But…”

“But what?” She was so desperate to know that she could hardly breathe.

He closed his eyes and opened them after a long moment. “If we’re going to do this, I want you to know this isn’t some fling for me. I’m so madly in love with you I can hardly stand it. I got a ring and everything, even though I know it’s too early to ask. But I have to know. Do you feel the same about me? Would you consider spending your life with me?”

Was he…? Did he just…? “Are you asking me to marry you?”

He didn’t bat an eye, just looked at her steadily. “Yes. I wouldn’t feel right taking things further without knowing.”

Silence stretched between them as she tried to sort through her scrambled thoughts. How often has she secretly dreamed of this? But her mind snagged on something. “Why?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“You’ve taken other women to bed and not proposed to them. What makes me different?”

His crestfallen face almost made her wish she could take her words back. “Everything. You’re you. But do you have doubts about me? I know I’m not some fancy accountant, and my job is too dangerous. Is that why you’re worried? Because I promise I’ll stop flying the mail. And I’ll⁠—”

“No! Not at all. I want to marry you too.” She hadn’t meant to keep him in suspense like that, but she had so many question. The instant relief written on his face only made her feel all the guiltier. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you doubt me. It’s just that…”

How could she put it into words what was bothering her?

“It’s just that what?” He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair.

“No. It’s that I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m made of glass—you, my brother, my father. You’re all so protective. But I’m an adult, for heaven’s sake.”

“Believe me. I’ve noticed.” He ran his hand down her curves and nuzzled her neck. “But sweetheart, I also know you take things to heart. When I got engaged to Myrtle and you got sick, was it about me?”

She stilled. He couldn’t know that. No one knew that. “Why would you think such a thing?” she said as lightly as she could manage.

Pausing, he held her gaze. “Ernie said he ran across some letters you never sent me during the war where you told me your feelings. I wish you had sent them, by the way. We could have been together so much sooner. But between the letters and the memory of how you grieved when your grandmother died, he drew the conclusion that⁠—”

“Stop.” Her heart raced as she struggled to come up with some way to explain it all away. “I was sick. That was all. And Ernie had no business prying into my things.” It was humiliating, the extent to which she let herself fall apart, and she wasn’t about to admit it, even now. She’d fought too hard to drag herself out of her doldrums and move on with her life.

“You’re right. He didn’t. And if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. I just don’t want to hurt you.” He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her so sweetly that her resistance crumbled.

“I’m stronger than you think,” she said as he pulled back. “You’re not going to break me by giving me what I want, and I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you, despite the risks.”

She was finished with playing it safe. For too long, she’d believed everyone was right about her and that she had to choose safety. But look where that had led. She’d almost married Doug and condemned herself to a tepid life devoid of love and passion.

Jack paused and looked her in the eyes. “Thank you for choosing me. I love you, Constance Pritchard.”

“I love you too, Jack Thompson,” she said, smiling. “Now, take your clothes off.”

A devilish smile spread slowly across his face, and his eyes darkened. “With pleasure.”

He pulled away from her and stood beside the bed, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them off, holding her gaze the whole time. Then he slowly unbuttoned his union suit, as if he had all the time in the world and made a show of peeling it off and letting it fall so that he stood naked in all his glory.

Good God, he was gorgeous, all lean muscle with pale gold skin and sparse dark hair on his chest. She hardly knew where to look. Every inch of him made her mouth water, but especially his rigid cock, standing tall from a spray of coarse, dark hair.