Serviced (Getting Dirty 1) - Page 25

“I know you mean every word, with or without a ring. I promise you this, it will not take me a year to plan our wedding. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Rowen Martinez.” She’s bare in our bed with nothing but a sheet covering us, and now my ring on her finger.

“You will have to promise me one thing until we say ‘I do’,” I state.

“What’s that?” Her hair is a tangled mess from our love making, but the soft smile on her lips, the way her breasts move with every breath, causing the sheet to slide down, slowly displaying them, it’s what my fucking dreams are made of.

“You move in here, fully. We make this place a home, not a house with four walls. I’m not waiting a year from now, or even six months. I’m thinking next weekend,” I state.

Rowen’s eyebrow cocks up, and her smile deepens before she launches herself in my arms, her mouth meeting mine. I’m taking that as a yes and am running with it. Tonight must be my lucky night because I have Rowen in my arms, my ring on her finger, and if I know without any uncertainty I’ll be sinking into her tight heat again in a matter of moments. I was a goddamn fool to make her wait those three weeks while she was home and I was avoiding her. Those weeks we could have been together. One thing I know for sure, though, is I’ll never leave her side. Not after waiting for so long to have her right here beside me.

“You have yourself a deal. A proposal though?” she asks, breaking away from our kiss.

“What’s that?”

“We go furniture shopping, and soon. I mean, I don’t have anything really to contribute besides my things. My apartment was fully furnished and, well, your house is kind of a bachelor pad.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Our house, and we’ll do that as soon as your things are here. Not that I care to go from store to store, but we’ll get it taken care of.” I’m really hoping Rowen isn’t a shop-till-you-drop woman like my own mother. Lord have mercy, can that woman do some damage.

“Oh hush, you act like I don’t shop online. We’ll only have to go to a few stores, if that.” Rowen rolls her eyes at me, causing me to laugh.

“Okay, siren. We’ll see about that.” This time, she rocks her hips up, and I thrust down. That’s how we spend our evening, both of us locked in each other’s arms and making love throughout the night, and I couldn’t be any fucking happier.EpilogueRowenTwo Years LaterIt’s been one year of marital bliss, well, sometimes. I mean, I love Braxton with all my being, and I know he feels the same way, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t had to ebb and flow with not only our home life but also our work life. The arguments can be intense at times, but the make-up sex is beyond amazing. I’m not ashamed to say I may have started a fight just to rile Braxton up enough to take me, and it definitely happens in the office more times than not.

There is nothing better than him bending me over the desk, hips thrusting, my body marked from his hands with grease and oil. It always had me burning hotter than hot.

I just got back from lunch, shopping with Braxton’s mom and my own. It’s been like all those months two years ago never existed. The fluid that was building around her collapsing lung is now gone, and so is the pain that came with it. Braxton was not kidding when he said his mom could shop. I was only going to take the afternoon off at the shop, but he just shook his head and said to be prepared to be gone the whole day. And I’ll probably need tomorrow to recover too. Not that I bought a whole lot on this shopping adventure—a couple of things for the house, and that was it for me.

He wasn’t wrong though. I even wore a comfortable pair of shoes. I somehow shook the moms and made my way into the card store to not only get Braxton an anniversary gift but also something a little extra. To be honest, this gift kind of snuck up on me. When your husband takes you away for a few days, including packing your bags for a surprise and forgetting your birth control pills, I guess this is what happens. I mean, sure, we had plans to wait another year or so, but what’s meant to be is meant to be.

“Siren, where are you?” Braxton walks through the house holding a bundle of blush and deeper pink ranunculus. How he remembers the minor details, I’ll never understand. Those are the same color and type of flowers I had in my bouquet when I walked down the aisle towards him.

Tags: Tory Baker Getting Dirty Romance
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