The Wrong Gentleman(70)

She always knew exactly what to say. I groaned and rammed into her. “Like that?” I asked, unable to hold back any longer. All my muscles engaged as if I’d been trekking under the Afghan sun for days. I was spent, but knew I had to keep my focus on the goal.

“Yes!” she cried. “Just like that.”

“I can’t stop. With you, I just lose control,” I said. That summed up my reaction to Skylar in every sense. She was the only woman who tore through half of my defenses and made me want to surrender the rest. She was the only woman I’d ever considered adapting for, the only one who made it impossible not to. She changed everything. I’d move to Ohio if she asked me to. I’d give up my job, my life in London. I’d do anything if it meant being with her.

My orgasm rumbled in the distance, setting a warning spark across my skin. My muscles continued to ache as I kept pressing into her. I drew up her knee, desperate to get deeper, to push her further. I wanted us to reach the same place. To exist in the same sense of bliss at the same time.

She whimpered and began to chant my name.

She arched her back, pressing her breasts against my chest as her orgasm caught her breath in her mouth and made her eyes water as she looked at me: hope, happiness and understanding in her gaze. Her expression pushed through my body’s last defense, and my orgasm tunneled up my spine, meeting hers with a vengeance.

“I love you, Skylar,” I choked out as my orgasm continued to course through my body, setting my blood on fire and muscles into spasm.

I kept my gaze fixed on hers as we both floated back down to earth. She smoothed her palm across my face. “I love you, too.”

I collapsed over her, still not ready for a single part of her not to touch me. I couldn’t imagine a time when I wouldn’t feel the same way. It was as if she were a part of me, and without her, there would be some element missing. I wanted to stay connected with her—physically, mentally, emotionally—forever.

She lifted her head and pressed her lips to my shoulder. I rolled to my back and tucked her into my side.

I’d love this woman forever. I was as sure of that as I’d ever been of anything in my life.





Epilogue





Skylar


I released the swinging door and stepped out into the fresh autumnal breeze of Holborn, London, and glanced down at the paper I was clutching and tried yet again to make sense of the scores.

“Skylar!”

I turned to see Landon trying to wave from across the street but juggling coffee cups.

My cheeks heated. He was so freaking hot. How had I gotten so lucky?

I beamed and waved my test results in the air.

“Did you pass?” he shouted from across the street, checking for a gap in traffic. Eventually he gave up and despite the blare of horns, pushed through the slow-moving cars and cyclists weaving in and out of the vehicles.

“There’s no pressure. You can always take it again,” he said as he reached me. “See this as a dry run.”

“But I don’t need to take it again. I passed,” I said.

He searched my face, then tossed both cups of coffee into the nearby trashcan and traced my cheekbones with his fingertips. “I knew it,” he said before kissing me.

My knees buckled and I pulled at his shirt, trying to keep upright.

When he finally pulled back, he slipped his hand around my waist and guided me in the direction of the restaurant where we were meeting Hayden and Avery for lunch.

“So this means you can get into any university?” he asked.

I stared at the piece of paper that I hadn’t dared put back into my bag in case when I took it out again, the score had changed. “I wasn’t expecting to get this kind of result.”

“You always underestimate yourself. You should know better by now.”

“I’m getting there,” I said. “Slowly.” Being with a man who believed in me so completely was helping.

“Next stop law. In the US or here?” he asked, pulling me toward him and out of the way as a buggy plowed toward us.

“I guess the US makes sense.”

Landon stayed silent.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Oh, you finally want to talk about this?” He grinned and placed a kiss on the top of my forehead.

Every time he’d tried to bring up the topic, I’d shut him down. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I’d been focused on passing the exam. If I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t need to choose a place to study.

I prodded him in the stomach. “Yes, I want to talk about this now that I have this.” I waved the paper at him.

“I want you to be happy,” he said.

I sighed. “That’s a cop-out. Tell me what you think.”

“I want to hear your thoughts first. This is a big deal for you. A pivotal moment. It should be your decision.”

“And then you’ll tell me what you think? Even if I blurt out a lot of incoherent thoughts that I haven’t let myself analyze in any detail?”

He chuckled. “I promise.”

I sucked in a breath. “I guess the US makes sense. I know the system and the schools better. But then, nowhere in the US feels like home. Even though I’ve spent a lot of time in Florida, that was just because of yachting. And Ohio?” I shook my head. “I’m not sure that ever felt like home.”