Marked

I felt my heart jump into my throat. “You missed me?” I’d missed him too. We might’ve only known each other for such a short time, but I’d never felt anything realer than when I was with Tommy.

I made my way around my desk and walked toward him, stopping when only a couple feet separated us. I inhaled deeply, but not so deeply that it would’ve been obvious that I was taking it his scent. But God, he smelled good, and memories of all the things we shared in Toronto played through my mind.

“I missed you too,” I whispered, and a low growl left him. It had tingles starting in my fingertips and expanding throughout my entire body. Before I knew what was happening, he had his chest pressed up against mine, his hand on the back of my neck, and used his thumb on my jawline to tip my head back gently. And then he was claiming my mouth, pressing his lips against mine, and stroking his tongue along the seam.

He tasted good, with a hint of spice from the cinnamon gum he’d no doubt been chewing. I melted against him, lifted my arms and wrapped them around his shoulders, rising up on my toes and tilting my head to deepen the kiss. I’d never felt anything so good.

It was long moments before he broke the kiss and I was left standing there panting, wanting more, needing it to be endless with him.

“So… you glad to see me?” He gave me a smirk.

I knew he liked hearing me confess how I felt. I liked when he did the same.

I felt butterflies in my belly. I nodded. “I am.”

He pulled me into an embrace and just held me. There was nothing sexual about this touch. It made me feel comforted… loved.

And as crazy as the latter was, I was just going to go with it. Balls to the wall, as Nadine would say.

* * *

Tommy

Not being able to see Izzy a week was torture. I wanted to see her every fucking day, but I knew that was unrealistic with both of us working full-time. So until we could figure something out that was more permanent, meaning I would fucking commute every goddamn day if I had to, or I’d work on making another satellite base for my construction company.

Either way, I’d make this work with her. There was no other option.

Even if I only got to spend Friday to Sunday with her, I would take it. Not to mention, I didn’t want to make her feel like I was rushing into things, despite the fact that I had a feeling she felt exactly how I did. In the beginning, I could’ve easily called it insta-lust. But even these last few weeks of seeing her, spending time with her, I knew it was much more than that. That insta-lust was the beginning of something more. It had been the beginning of love.

I didn’t fucking care what anybody said, if they thought I was crazy, pussy-whipped, or obsessed. I knew I wanted Izzy in my life forever, and I’d make that a reality no matter what.

I pulled her even closer and buried my face in her hair. I’d made love to her just half an hour ago, and she’d fallen asleep in my arms only moments after. To know my woman was sated, that I brought her pleasure, had pride filling me. It made me feel like a real man, and I’d never felt that way before, never even thought about it.

But when I looked at my future, I didn’t see one without Izzy in it. That was the God’s honest truth. And I’d keep telling her that until the day I died.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Izzy slept soundly pressed right against me, her skin soft, her feminine curves calling to me. I loved being in her room, surrounded by her things, smelling her constantly, that sweet, intoxicating aroma making me drunk. It made me feel even more possessive over her, and I curled my hand gently around her waist, as if she’d leave, as if she’d come to her senses and realize I could be one overbearing asshole at times, maybe too possessive for my own good.

But I was only like this with Izzy. I would only ever be like this with her. And so, as I held her and closed my eyes, letting myself drift off to sleep, I finally knew what it all meant… what finding the one was all about.

I’d found my happily ever after, but I knew that wasn’t the end of our story. It was just the beginning.

Epilogue

Izzy

One year later

I was biting my nails, feeling nervous, but not in a bad way. I watched as the movers brought boxes in, back-and-forth, a whole truckload of them.