Never Giving Up (Never #3)(24)

I placed my hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s ok if you’re not. You know that right? You don’t have to be fine all the time.” She didn’t respond, but I knew she’d heard me and that was most important.

We made it to the hotel and when we split to head to our individual rooms, I made her hug me. I took her by the shoulders and brought her into me, wrapping my arms around her. She was stiff at first, but eventually relaxed into me.

“I love you, Kalli. You’re like a sister to me. You can always count on me.” I heard her sniffle and felt her head nod. She pulled away and gave me her signature weak smile and headed towards her room.

When I got to my room, I found it empty, but wasn’t surprised by it. I expected Porter to have more stamina than me and to help Patrick have the time of his life. I decided that a hot bath sounded like the time of my life.

Soaking in the big tub was a luxury. The tub at the beach house was incredible, but not so much in Salem, where I spent most of my time, so I appreciated the tub and it’s strategically placed jets that were currently working the knots out of my back. After my bath, Porter still hadn’t returned and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I turned on the TV, finding a movie I’d already seen, and laid down on the bed. I stretched out diagonally across the entire bed, my strategy to make sure Porter had to wake me to go to sleep.

My plan worked because I woke to the smell of my husband’s soap and his warm hand rubbing soft circles on my back. I opened my eyes and saw my husband’s face surrounded by just the soft light coming from the lamp by the bed.

“Hi,” I smiled up at him sleepily. When my eyes focused, I saw his hair was wet. “Did you shower?”

“Yeah. I smelled like smoke and women.” I cocked an eyebrow at him trying not to make it obvious that I had also noticed that he was naked.

“So you did go to a strip club.”

“That we did,” he said as he patted my butt, urging me to scoot onto my designated side of the bed. I slid over, rolling towards him, resting my head on my pillow, curling my knees up to my chest.

“Did Patrick have a good time?”

“If you’re asking me if Patrick had nearly naked women rubbing up against him, the answer is a sacred secret I will take to the grave.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that he had a lot of lap dances.”

“I’ve said no such thing.” He laid his head down on his pillow, facing me, trying to hide a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “How many?”

“How many dollar bills did Megan shove into G-strings where you were?”

“None of them rubbed themselves all over her while they were alone in a dark room.”

“How do you know lap dances happen in a dark room?”

“Don’t change the subject, Porter. How many lap dances did he get?”

“We each bought him one,” he finally conceded with a sigh.

“There were eight of you there! He had eight lap dances?”

“It’s not a big deal, Ella. Megan wanted him to have fun and told him to go to a strip club.”

“How many lap dances did you get?”

“None. I told you I wouldn’t.”

“How much money did you tuck into underwear?”

“None.”

“None?” I repeated, not believing his story. Suddenly, I was below him and his arms were caging me in, his long, hard body draped over mine.

“You doubt me all of a sudden. Where is this coming from?” Before I could form an answer, or even open my mouth, his lips were on my ear. “Don’t question my devotion, Ella. Don’t think twice about the fact that every other woman pales in comparison to you.” His hands found my wrists and slid them up, pinning them above my head. His thigh found its way in between my knees, spreading my legs underneath him and my breath caught in my throat. The panties I had put on before I fell asleep did nothing to hide the heat that was building, smoldering against his skin now as only a thin layer of cotton was between us.

“I don’t doubt you,” I managed to whisper.

“Oh, but you do.” His mouth found my neck and instead of the kiss I was expecting, I felt his teeth bite into my flesh. I gasped, surprised by his sudden and unexpected fierceness. He soothed the tender skin by laying a wet, open-mouth kiss over the exact same spot he’d just assaulted. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped at the feeling of his tongue on my throat or the wetness pooling between my legs. “When I see other women, the only thoughts that cross my mind center around how I still can’t believe that I was lucky enough to find you, to make you mine, and to convince you to marry me.” He continued to kiss his way down my throat, pulling not-so-gently on the neck of my nightgown. He growled when he realized he wasn’t going to get to his destination without taking it off.

I was speechless. I knew how he felt about me—how he felt about us. And even though I never wanted to make it seem like I didn’t feel his love or his need for me, lately with everything changing, inside my body and out, I found myself insecure. Obviously I’d let my insecurities into our relationship and he was having none of it.

His hands grabbed the bottom of the nightgown and pushed it up over my breasts and he wasted no time before taking one into his scorching mouth and palming the other, brushing his thumb over my hard, aching nipple. His hand and mouth did wonderfully terrible things to my breasts and I gasped for air, trying to wriggle free of the strong hold his other hand still hand on my wrists.