Objective (Bloodlines #2)(59)
“What?” she asks playfully.
“Just enjoying the view,” I call out.
“The last time you said that you covered my eyes and asked if I trusted you...” she states, lost in memory. I grab her hand and twine our fingers together. The way she’s standing looking at me, it’s as if her body’s a gun, her mouth the trigger and I’m destined to be shot all over again. I lean in until we’re a breath apart from each other’s mouths. “Trust me?” Her nod is almost imperceptible but it’s there. Her lips push into mine. Silky, sweet and warm. Her fingers toy with the hair at the nape of my neck as she massages my lips with hers. I pull back and she mewls at me for breaking the kiss. It’s the most endearing sound I’ve ever heard leave her mouth.
“Marry me,” I say seriously.
“What?!” she chuckles.
“I’m serious, Mags. Marry me.” I back up from her just slightly. I reach into the pocket of my pants and pull out the engagement ring I bought for her over a year ago, the ring I watched her throw into the neighboring trailer’s yard and the ring I’d spent an hour trying to recover. I bring it up between us and drop to one knee. “Magnolia Ash, I have never been able to love anyone the way I love you. I will never be able to be as good as I am right now with anyone else. You’re my soul, baby, you own me.” Her eyes soften and fill with tears. “There’s so much static in the world...people vying for attention, noises, voices, they all get in the way in here.” I knock on my head. “When I see you, when I’m with you - all that noise fades away. I can breathe. I can just be.” I reach for her left hand and hold the ring to the end of her ring finger. “Say something,” I plead. She drops to her knees so we’re face to face and looks deep into my eyes, searching for something. It kills me to see her this confused and unsure. She presses her lips to mine softly before looking down where my hand still holds hers.
“Yes,” she whispers. Cheers erupt around us. I move my gaze around us to find a rather large crowd looking on. I slide the ring onto her finger and kiss it before crouching on my heels and scooping her up into my arms. “She said yes!” I bellow, swinging her around. The thought of Magnolia and me spending eternity together makes my chest swell and my stomach flop. There has never been a more perfect moment than this one. She smiles a radiant smile at me that melts my heart all over again before she takes my face between her hands and kisses the shit out of me. So sweet. I could live a thousand lives if I got to see that smile every day.
The concert at the park was actually pretty good. The band rocked some old eighties tunes that we both knew and loved. To be honest I felt drunk with happiness the rest of the evening. We drank. We ate. We had some of the best damn chocolate-covered potato chips I’ve ever encountered and then we happily made our way back to the hotel.
Her lips come together in a sexy little pout as I pull my mouth away from her swollen clit. “Ugh, Cane, don’t stop now!” she whines. I crawl back up her body, taking my time. Kissing and nipping every crease, line and patch of skin I pass, memorizing the taste of her, the feel of her under me. Her skin's hot and flushed. Her breath is light and shallow and it gives me great pleasure to do these intimate things to her. It’s the most amazing feeling in the world, knowing that I’m the only man she’s been with. That she's mine. I nip at her bottom lip playfully before reaching between us and guiding myself into her. A rush of hot, damp breath rushes out of her followed by a low raspy groan of satisfaction. I watch all the emotions and expressions her face holds. “Eyes,” I grunt, picking up my pace. Her eyes snap open and lazily focus on my face. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she wheezes out, her eyes still glazed over with pleasure. Hearing her say it out loud makes my stomach flip and my dick twitch. Without breaking her gaze I f*ck her harder until we’re both a puddle of body parts resting on the hotel bed. Her fingers trace shapes up and down my arm until the city lights catch on her ring. She pulls her hand up to the light coming through the blinds.
“It’s perfect,” she mumbles, admiring it.
“It should be. You picked it out,” I chortle.
“I did not. I had no idea you were going to propose!” she squeaks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“It was on a flyer that came to the house. You ooohhed and awweeed over it for like, thirty solid minutes.” I chuckle at her. “I picked it up the next week.” Her eyes bug out slightly before a giant shit-eating grin appears on her face.
“You know, for a badass you’re kinda all hearts and flowers,” she muses. And she’s right. Not that I’d admit that to anyone ever but whenever she’s near, I’m a giant pile of sap and mush.
*****
I wake long before Mags does but I don’t wake her. She looks peaceful and content in a way that seems elusive to her when she's awake. The past fifteen months I tried so hard to hate her. To find that rage and keep it close. But I still woke up every morning loving her. I trace her soft lips with the tip of my finger. Silky smooth. I want to bottle this feeling up so I can use it again later when I might need it. This game of escaping reality won’t last long enough for us. For me anyways.
She stirs slightly and I kiss the tip of her nose. A grin plays at her lips and she rolls into me, wrapping her arms around my torso and nuzzling into my chest. “You ready to pack up?” I ask, kissing her head. Her fingers toy over the scar on my pectoral. The scar she gave me.