Never Say Forever

“Oh, you’re not getting out of breakfast with the French inquisition so easily. You’d better get this butt back here—” her hands give the globes of my ass a tight squeeze “—back here pretty darned quick.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I mirror her actions, my cock growing hard between us.

“Which means we don’t have time for this,” she says, despite rubbing her body against mine. Squeezing and rubbing.

“You want to know what I’m thinking?”

“No,” she says, the word about fifty percent giggle, my body following hers as she tries to twist from my grasp. “It’s already written on your face. We don’t have time.”

“I can be quick.”

“That’s not something a woman wants to hear. Oh!” Her gaze darkens, the tenor of that little noise very different as bite her nipple over her T-shirt.

“That’s what I mean by quick. You won’t even have to take off your clothes.”

“Speaking of clothes, do you really want to sit across the table from Everett in last night’s crumpled suit? Listening to him tease you about being a dirty stop out, asking if you want a lift so you don’t have to endure the walk of shame.”

“Fuck that. I’m doing a victory lap, and Rose will back me up.”

“Did you see how excited she was. Well, once we’d put our clothes back on.” The silly woman thought we might be kissing when she busted in on us. “She looked like she was auditioning for Riverdance.”

“I think I need to meet your dad,” I find myself saying, though Fee doesn’t reply. Not immediately.

“Mum and dad are still coming to visit,” she replies, regarding me steadily.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I want to wait that long.”

“He’s a very entertaining man, my dad. But not so funny that you’d—”

“Quit fishing for details. You know exactly why I need to meet him.”

“Hmm.” She turns from me all luscious and sassy, a smile hiding in those pursed lips. “I don’t think—”

Catching her arm, I turn her to face me. “I want to marry you,” I say, pulling her to my chest. “And I want to do it right, get your parents blessing, and then maybe someday, if you’re a good little girl, I might just ask you.”

“I might ask you first.” Her eyes sparkle as she presses her hands to my chest.

“That is an idea I can get behind.” And so I do, spinning her to face the couch, pressing my body over hers. My body. My hands. My mark.

I just can’t get enough of her.

“Carson—”

“Just let me love you a little right now.”

“Your little always makes my knees feel like jelly.” Her words are tremorous as she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her pants. Her eyes are bright as she twists her head over her shoulder. I pause in the act of loosening my fly in fucking awe of the love shining there.

Love, desire, and delight.

“Sweet girl, I forget I have knees at all every time I look at you.”

“What are you two doing?” a suspicious little voice intones.

I drop my head to Fee’s back as I stuff a very hard dick back into my pants.

“This hotel suite is not my happy place,” I mutter, pulling Fee’s pants back over her ass.

“I thought you sounded very happy last night,” Fee murmurs. When she turns to face me, she’s the picture of wide-eyed goodness. “In fact, some would say you were positively exuberant.”

“You, angel, I murmur, bringing my lips to her ear. “Only you get to hear my exuberance.”

“Somebody is ’apossed to answer my question,” the little dictator in pink pyjamas declares, her tiny hands in the air like pink starfishes.

“Well, and I guess princess Lu here.” Pressing my lips to Fee’s temple, I round the couch. “Morning, princess.” I hold out my arms and she launches herself into them. “Did you sleep well?”

“’Sept for the giggling,” she mutters.

“Norman kept you awake, huh?”

“No, Mommy did. Did you eat cheese before bed?” she accuses, turning her head to Fee.

“Yes. cheese. That must’ve been it. It gave me such funny dreams.”

“I’m not even gonna ask,” I murmur. “You Frenglish types are a little weird. But I should go.” I bend to set Lulu down when her hands tighten on my neck.

“No! I don’t want you to go!”

“I’ll be back in time for breakfast, sweetheart.”

“Really?” The mixture of worry and distrust on her face makes my heart pinch.

“And then we can come back home?” Her voice is so small and there’s a tiny wobble of vulnerability that gets me right in the feels. I have houses. Apartments. Places to live. But it’s been a long time since I had a home.

“I . . . would like nothing better than that.” I know it’s wrong to have this conversation in front of Lulu but, “My girls back under my roof? Any roof. I’d even take that yurt in Outer Mongolia.”