Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
His other hand slid between my thighs, increasing the pleasure.
Little by little, the movement lost rhythm, dissolving into urgency as we both got closer and closer.
Release claimed me without warning, without mercy, without escape. And I gave into it helplessly, crying out, clinging, trembling.
Milo groaned at the frantic tightening around him, pressing deep, his whole body tightening, then pulsing in me as he came.
He collapsed backward on the edge of the bed, taking me with him on his lap, both of us just holding onto each other for a long time.
He was still inside me, and I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the intimacy.
I just needed one more minute.
Then another.
And another.
I gripped him when he tried to move.
“Shh,” he murmured, his lips pressing into the spot where my neck met my shoulder. “You can have me just like this anytime you want. You can let go.”
My body relaxed, and Milo gently moved with me onto the bed, our bodies curled tightly.
His hands roamed.
Not to excite.
To calm, to reassure.
“Baby.”
“Hmm?” I asked, floating in that space between sleep and consciousness, deliciously floating and satisfied.
“I have another plan,” he said.
“Yeah?” I asked, my eyes fluttering open. “What is it?”
He reached down, finding my hand, then sliding our fingers together.
He turned them.
Then pressed a kiss to the fourth finger on my left hand.
“I’m going to marry you.”
Yes, yes, he was.
Milo - 3 days
Alley was shrieking in her carrier because she wanted to get out to sit on my lap.
Roe was small-eyeing the cat.
“I’d be mad at her if I didn’t completely understand why she likes you so much,” she grumbled, pulling her blanket up higher.
Roe, it seemed, was the ultimate passenger princess. She settled in for a ride: no shoes, cozy blanket, seat leaned back. For obvious reasons, she had control of the radio.
And I was pretty sure it didn’t matter how long I lived, the sight of her with her dark hair blowing in the breeze, her hand out the window doing waves in the air, and belting out some love ballad as I drove would forever be one of my favorite memories of her.
Maybe it was simply because she was in my car heading back to my town, to my apartment, the car loaded down with all of her essentials. Which was mostly stuff for Alley and her own clothes and makeup.
“You know what I’m looking forward to?”
“The best pizza in the whole state?” I asked. Sure, I was probably partial. My brother owned a small chain of pizza places. But I stood by my statement.
“Well, that, yes. But also… having a kitchen. A real kitchen.”
“It’s not that great of one,” I admitted. I didn’t want her to get her hopes up too high. Sure, I planned to put her in a fucking mansion. But my apartment was just an apartment. Nothing too special.
“Milo, I didn’t have a range. Or dishwasher.”
“In that case, prepare yourself for the best kitchen you’ve seen in over a year.”
“A kitchen I won’t be cooking in. But I will be happy to sit on the counter and cheer you on while you cook.”
“Sounds good to me. I also have an espresso machine.”
“With a milk frother?”
“Living fucking large,” I agreed.
“Well, in that case, I can make you a mean latte in the morning.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I was looking forward to all of it: waking up to her in my bed, hearing her singing in the shower, unwinding with her after a long day, house hunting with her, putting a ring on her finger, watching her walk down an aisle toward me, holding our baby in her arms.
All of it.
All in good time.
I wasn’t in a rush.
Now that I found the woman I knew would come around eventually, I wanted to savor all the steps. Life was long. I wanted to soak up every moment of it that involved her.
“Oh, this is pretty,” she said as we drove over the bridge.
“The Navesink River,” I said, feeling that sensation of home unfurl in my chest.
“I’m an idiot. I totally didn’t put that together,” she admitted, shaking her head.
“You’ll know all about it soon enough.”
“Tell me things now.”
“Well, you see that bridge over there? If you go over that one, you run into the beach. This street we’re passing now is where Jon Bon Jovi used to live. And a little further down this road, we’re going to come across a giant clown sign that everyone has been fighting to keep for years. They’re building some town center monstrosity in the area, and the clown has to go.”
“I hate when towns tear down landmarks. There’s so much lore in some places. Even if the lore is kind of ugly,” she declared as we finally drove past the clown.
As we kept driving, I pointed out other things: the schools I went to, the places I used to hang out as a teen, where I’d had my first jobs, the businesses owned by various family members, the street where my mom lived.