Change of Heart (Fostering Love 2)

“But we have a babysitter tonight,” I teased, making him groan again.

“So I’ll take you someplace Arielle can go,” he promised against my lips, running his hands down my back.

I sucked his lower lip into my mouth and sighed as his hands gripped my ass, picking me up off the floor.

“No more baby talk,” he ordered, carrying me into my room as I moved my lips to his earlobe.

“Are you sure?” I asked, running my tongue along the outside of his ear. “Because I’ve heard some of the women you’ve fucked talk, and if you’re into that—”

“We’re not talking about any other people we’ve had sex with,” he said, dropping me to the bed.

“You scraped the bottom of the barrel with those ones,” I needled, making him scowl.

I didn’t even know why I’d brought it up, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words from tumbling from my mouth.

“You know I love you, right?” he asked, standing above me, shaking his head with a gentle smile on his face.

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t matter what you say.”

“Okay,” I breathed as he pulled his open shirt down his shoulders.

“You can’t push me away. It won’t happen.”

“I’m not trying to—”

“I know you’re not,” he said seriously.

Then he took off his jeans, and in the quiet, his words sunk in.

I was never going to be lovey-dovey. I was always going to say inappropriate things at the wrong time and in the wrong place. I’d never be the girl that left him sappy love notes in his lunch or gushed to people about how sweet he was.

And Bram was okay with that.

He liked me the way I was.

Tears hit my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

“I’m going to bring you flowers,” Bram said as he yanked off my boots and socks. “I’m going to tell you I love you and spoil Arielle.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“I’m going to brag about you,” he said quietly as he pulled my leggings and thong down my hips and off my legs. “I’ll remember anniversaries, and I’ll get you cool shit for your birthday.”

“I’ll get you cool shit for your birthday too,” I said stupidly through my clenched teeth.

“And you’ll love me?” he asked as he pulled my sweater over my head.

“So much you won’t be able to stand it,” I murmured as he unclipped my bra.

“Good,” he murmured, coming down on top of me to press his mouth to mine.

I slid my fingers into his hair as he kissed me, and pulled the rubber band out so I could clench the hair in my fists as he ground his hips against mine.

“I’m going to give you blow jobs at least once a week,” I murmured, making Bram chuckle as his lips moved down my neck.

“And I’m going to cook dinner because I like to, but I promise it’ll be good.”

His lips wrapped around a nipple, and I arched my back in response.

“I’ll probably forget anniversaries, but I’ll write them on a calendar to try and remember.”

“Thank you,” he said, running his hand between us to slide two fingers over my clit.

“And I’ll be proud of everything you do, even if I don’t go telling people about it.” I gasped as he slid those same two fingers inside me. “I’ll love you even when you’re being an ass.”

“Hey, now,” Bram said defensively, biting the side of my breast gently.

“Please,” I whispered as his thumb rubbed slowly over my clit.

He kissed me as he positioned himself, and my breath caught as he slid inside, locking us together.

“I’ll—”

“Shh,” he quieted me, pressing his forehead against mine. “We’ll make our promises later,” he whispered. “When you’re wearing a long white dress and I’m in a tux.”

“You want to marry me?” I asked as his hips rocked, my hand moving down his sweaty back.

“I want everything,” he answered, snapping his hips forward.

After that, we didn’t say much. We were too caught up in the dance of our bodies, the sweat that pooled on our skin, the scents and sounds of our coming together. It was the best sex we’d ever had, and it had none of the acrobatics we’d performed in the past. Straight-up missionary, but the emotion made it magnificent.

I still liked that word.

Hours later, I watched Bram as he stumbled around my room.

“Do you want me to just go get them?” I asked, giggling at his attempts to reach the door.

“I got it,” he grumbled, wiping his hand down his face. “You stay in bed.”

He finally left the room to go grab our phones and I fell back onto my sheets with a sigh. Bram wanted to call and check up on Arielle, but we’d left our phones in the kitchen when he’d carried me to my room.

“Mom texted us both,” Bram said as he came back into the room, looking at his phone. “She sent a couple of pictures and said they were going to bed so ‘don’t call and check up on them.’”