Forever with Me (With Me in Seattle 8)

“But nothing happened,” I insist. “Nor would it ever happen. Blake is in love with Emily.”

He simply nods, his eyes sad, mouth grim.

“It’s been a shitty few weeks,” he says quietly.

I simply nod. “One good thing came of it, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I went home too. To San Francisco. I confronted my parents and Jonathan.”

His eyes warm. “What happened?”

I lean against the couch again and cross my arms, wanting to touch him. Aching for him to hold me again.

“My parents are my parents. They don’t get it, and honestly, I don’t know if they ever will, but I told them how they made me feel and I felt really proud of myself when I left.”

“You should be proud of yourself. You’re so fucking strong. And Jonathan?”

“That was a surprise.” I frown. “He apologized to me.”

“Really.”

“He was actually…sweet. And it felt good to put some closure on it.”

He nods and smiles softly. “I’m so happy for you, Alecia.”

“So, what now?” I ask, waiting for him to make a move.

“Well, I can’t unlove you, cara. Trust me. I’ve tried. The past few weeks have been a hell that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

“You love me?” I ask with a whisper. Finally, finally, he reaches for me, crushes me to him and holds on tight.

“Loving you is like breathing, Alecia. Being apart from you, thinking that I’d never hold you like this again, was agony. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t say it before.”

“I’m so afraid that you’ll hurt me,” I whisper against his chest. “I know it sounds stupid, but I can’t help it.”

“Love doesn’t hurt you, tesoro. People who don’t know how to love hurt you. You have so much love to give, and trust me when I say, I’m never going to stop loving you. I’d never walk away from you and you can damn well know that I’m going to fight for you. Remember what I told you that night in your condo? It’s you and me.”

“I missed you,” I murmur with a nod. “I missed us.”

“That’s the last time you’ll miss me.” He tips my chin up and smiles down at me softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Here!” Jules calls from the other side of the door. “You’re gonna need this!”

She slides a condom under the door, and Natalie giggles.

“Wait!” Natalie slips another with it. “Take two. You’ve earned it.”

“They’re still out there,” I mutter with a laugh.

“We’re not having sex in here!” Dom calls out. “And you both need to go away!”

“Killjoy!” Jules yells. “You should be thanking us!”

“Thank you!” I say. “Now go away!”

“We’re not appreciated,” Natalie says. “Let’s go eat cupcakes.”

“Will’s probably already claimed them all.”

***

“I think it went well,” I say, as Dominic escorts me up to my condo after the reception.

“I’m here with you, so yes, I’d say Jules and Nat’s plan went well.”

“The wedding, silly.” I nudge him with my elbow and then laugh and wrap my arms around his waist, lean my cheek on his chest and breathe him in as we wait for the elevator. “Okay, that went well too.”

“Are you tired?” he asks quietly, his lips in my hair.

“I’m fine,” I reply and lead him to my door. “Are you tired?”

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes pinned to mine as he slowly stalks me through my apartment.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

He smiles slowly, that dimple winking at me, as he shakes his head again and reaches for my hand, pulls me to him and lowers his lips to mine and kisses me gently, lightly, his mouth dancing with mine in the dark silence of my condo. My fingers find each of the buttons on his shirt and then I push it over his shoulders to the floor. He reaches for the zipper on my dress, but I quickly sink down, squatting before him, and make quick work of his belt, unfasten his pants, plant a kiss on his stomach, right between his navel and his cock as I stroke his already semi-hardness, kissing my way down to it.

“Alecia,” he whispers, as I lick around the rim of the head, and grin when he sucks in a breath and his abs contract. “Fuck.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” I say and grin up at him.

“You breathe and I’m hard, cara.”

He’s such a charmer.

Let’s see if I can make him lose his English.

I fucking love it when he speaks Italian to me.

I plant a sweet kiss on the tip, right over the slit and then smile innocently, watching him, as I open my mouth and sink over him, pulling him all the way into my mouth.

“Gesù hai intenzione di uccidermi,” he whispers, and I mentally high-five myself, clench my mouth around him and pull up, swirl my tongue around the tip and repeat the motion, over and over again.

He rips the pins out of my hair impatiently, tossing them on the floor, then sinks his hands in the strands, pulling slightly, making my panties flood. I love making him crazy.

Suddenly, he’s pulled me to my feet, kisses me hard, and lifts me in his arms and carries me to my bedroom. He sets me on my feet, and before I know it I’m stark ass naked and he’s lain me on my back in the middle of the bed, crawling over me with blue eyes bright with pure male lust.

“I love being intimate with you,” he whispers against my lips as he settles his pelvis against mine. “And I don’t just mean this, although, this is fucking amazing. I mean intimate.” He kisses me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, then nibbles his way down my jawline to my ear.

“Explain, please,” I whisper, and then gasp when his hand journeys up my side to my breast and his thumb finds my nipple.

“Intimacy is who you wake up thinking about at three in the morning,” he says, then licks up my ear lobe. “It’s talking about your hopes and fears in the dark.” He tweaks my nipple again, then that hand travels down my side, headed south. “It’s the one person you give your undivided attention to when ten other people are fighting for it.”

I gasp when his fingers find my clit and press lightly, then slip down into my folds and simply slide back and forth through the wetness.