International Player(71)

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The love of your life?”

“Of course.” I pulled her onto my lap. “I love you, Truly Harbury.”

She skimmed my jawline with her fingers. “I think I feel the same way.”

“You think?” I chuckled. “You’re not much good at this romantic stuff, you know.”

She grinned. “I’m really not. You’re going to have to help me. You know how I don’t like to be out of my comfort zone and how much coaching I need when I’m forced to do new stuff.”

“We’ll figure it out. It can be the first challenge we face together.”

She slid her arms around my back and pressed her face against my shoulder. “I accept. And you should know that Abigail and I had a talk—I was going to call you. Tonight.”

“You were? What were you going to say?”

“How I wanted to try. That I didn’t want to be without you, that I wanted to keep loving you.”

“We’re going to do more than try, you know,” I said. Every moment I was near this woman, I felt more certain that being with her was the most important decision I’d ever make in my life.

“We need to figure out how it’s going to work with you away for the next twelve months. It might be too much of a—”

“I’m not going anywhere without you. I turned down the job.”

“Noah, you can’t say no to such a wonderful opportunity. I know how passionate you are about it, and I don’t want you to wake up and resent me if you don’t follow your heart and your passion.”

“Don’t you get it yet? You’re my heart. You’re my passion. Anything else is gravy, as long as I have you.”

“So, you’re staying in London?”

“We’re staying in London. We’ll need to figure out who’s moving in with who or whether we look for something new.”

“We’re moving in together?” She looked slightly panicked.

“Of course. I don’t want to waste time not being together.”

She shook her head as if she couldn’t quite believe it. I’d have to show her in the weeks, months, and years to come. Eventually she’d understand that she was everything I’d never aimed for and yet everything I’d been working my whole life for.





Thirty-Seven





Noah


She stroked her fingers over my cheekbones as if she were checking everything was still just the same. But it wasn’t. I’d realized what could be lost now. I knew how high the stakes were. She swept her thumb over my lips, and I grabbed her wrist.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” I said.

I pushed my fingers through her hair, then paused to take in her beauty before I pressed my lips lightly to hers.

Just once.

It was as if a dam had burst.

Her fingers fumbled at my buttons, and I reached for the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her high, firm breasts. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I said, pushing my hand down her pajama bottoms. I found her hot and wet and my entire body sagged with relief that she was mine again. As she started opening my trousers, I growled and stood, lifting her up with me. I didn’t want this to be some fumbling, quick fuck on a couch. I wanted to lay her out, see that smooth expanse of warm skin, that beautiful smile and her incredible curves—absorb it, take it in. “I’m taking you to bed where I’m going to do wicked, wicked things with you.”

I pulled out my wallet and tossed it onto the bedside table. Stripped off my trousers and pants while I caught her watching me undress. “How do you feel?” I asked.

She shifted in the dull streetlight that filtered through the curtains. “Relieved. Nervous. Horny.”

I chuckled. Always so fucking honest. “Me too.”

She slipped off her pajama bottoms and lay back as I crawled on top of her. I stared down at her, taking in her face, her collarbones, her fucking incredible breasts. I wanted to fix this moment in my brain; it was so fucking perfect. I dipped down to kiss her, my tongue flicking across her lips. Having her naked beneath me was almost overwhelming, and I didn’t want to fuck this up.

“Hey,” she said, stroking her finger over my eyebrow. “You’re thinking too much. It’s just you and me.”

I groaned and rolled to my side, bringing her with me. I’d known from the moment I laid eyes on her that she was dangerous and every second I spent with her proved me right. We entwined our legs, and I brought her mouth to mine.

God, had kissing—just kissing—ever been so good? I wanted to own every inch of her. I worked down her neck and across her collarbone kissing and licking, claiming every square centimeter of her as mine.

“I’ve missed this,” she said, placing her index finger over one spot on my shoulder. “This little mole. And this dip here.” She traced her finger down to the valley between my biceps and triceps.

God she was so fucking adorable. “I missed all of you,” I confessed.

“You don’t have favorite bits?”

I glanced down at breasts that swayed with each tiny movement she made.

She laughed. “Well, that’s predictable, I suppose.”

“I’m not generally a boob man, but these?” I said, scooping them up and letting them fall. “These are something else.” I ran the backs of two fingers down in a straight line from her collarbone to her navel, enjoying the way patches of goosebumps appeared. “And your skin. The feel of it—so soft and smooth and warm.” I trailed my hand lower. “And this,” I said, dipping one finger between her folds. She sighed, then I brought my finger to my mouth to taste it. “Always so fucking sweet.”