“It’s everything,” she whispers.
“I never thought a MacLaine would settle for so little,” I tease.
“Sterling.” She bites her bottom lip, her lashes fluttering as she gazes into my eyes. “What if I don’t want to be a MacLaine anymore?”
My cock stiffens at the implication of her words. “What are you saying, Lucky?”
“There’s so much I need to tell you, and I still have questions—”
“What are you saying?” I repeat before she can walk her words back any further.
She’s so breathless, I can barely hear her. “I don’t want to be a MacLaine anymore. I want a real family. I want you.”
“Come here.” I wrap her in my arms, holding her and savoring her completion of me. Her head fits into the hollow under my chin, and her scent—magnolias wafting through the southern summer heat—fills my nose, telling me I’m home.
For almost a month I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to prove my love to Adair. Now I’ve done it, and I’m not sure how. Since she’s the one that saved me. From madness. From ruin. I spent five years telling myself it wasn’t real, believing she deserved a reckoning and that it would finally sever her hold on me.
But now I recognize the truth. Our lives were never separate. There was only ever us. At the time we met, we were waiting—full of anger and frustration—for life to begin. Meeting her was no less than being born: confusing, exhilarating, intense. Life from nothing.
But others came between us, and we let them. Ever since then we’ve been pale shadows of real people, haunting our own lives like ghosts. Unable to move on. Unable to let go of the real life we once glimpsed.
I draw her head up and cup her chin. “I will always love you.”
“Sterling, I love you,” she purrs, nuzzling my earlobe with her nose.
“Does it feel good to say it again?” I lift her, cradling her body in my arms, and carry her towards the bedroom.
“God, yes,” she says, her emerald eyes piercing through me to my soul.
“I’m going to worship you, Lucky. Every fucking inch of you.” I want to give her a taste of what awaits her for the rest of her life. I need to.
“Mmm?” She gives me a dreamy look, and the corners of her mouth curl into a satisfied grin. “Every inch, huh?.”
“You are a goddess.” I back through the door of her room and lay her on the bed. “Goddesses deserve to be worshipped.”
“Should I be taking notes?” she says teasingly, but her eyelids are already heavy, her mouth the perfect, kissable pout.
I pull the knot of my tie and slide it free of my collar, dropping it on the bed next to her. This wakes her up a little. Her tongue flickers over her lower lip as my fingers close over the first button.
“Feel free to skip to the good part,” she says, reaching to tug my shirt free. I push her hand away.
“Patience,” I murmur. Her pout deepens, but I take my time with each button, never letting my eyes leave hers. “There’s a ritual to worshipping, Adair,” I explain. “Certain formalities.”
This proclamation is met with a skeptical glare. “Fuck formalities!”
I kick off my shoes and bend to slowly pull off each sock. She watches, her hips wriggling restlessly. Her teeth bite down on her lower lip when my fingers reach for my belt buckle and my cock hardens at the greedy gleam in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. I think you’ll end up liking the formalities.”
She blushes, ruddy patches of red glowing through the cream of her skin. I slide the belt off and abandon it next to my tie. Adair’s breathing grows shallow as I unfasten my pants and let them fall to the floor. Those green eyes of hers zero in on the silhouette of my cock, straining to escape my boxers. I hook my thumbs under the elastic and pause to drink in the sight of her strewn across the bed, waiting for me. Her knees are raised, wedging her shorts around her shapely ass. There’s a hand tucked where her thighs press together as her body writhes to the pulse of need overtaking her body. The straps of her threadbare tank fall over her shoulders. And the look on her face. Swollen lips. Pink cheeks. Her hair a tangled copper pool haloing her head. It’s the goddamn sexiest thing I’ve seen in my entire life.
Circling to the foot of the bed, I drop onto the mattress and prowl toward her. I pause at her feet, slipping off her sandals and kissing each bit of exposed skin. My hands slide up her legs, reaching for her shorts. I quickly trail kisses from her feet to her knees, slowing as I reach her perfect thighs. She lifts her hips instinctively and I tug off her shorts to reveal a pair of black lace underwear.
My mouth teases down her thighs, tasting her soft skin, until I reach her panties, then it closes over the lace-covered mound. Her scent fills my nostrils, sending another rush of blood to my already painfully hard cock. I can taste her through the fabric and I can’t help allowing myself one gentle suck. A hopeful moan slips from her lips, followed by another “I love you.”
The curves of her body guides my lips to her navel as I push the hem of her shirt up to reveal more delicious flesh. Her bra is sheer black and trimmed with lace, and the promise of her luscious breasts makes my cock pulse. I lift her sharply to me, crushing her plump, pink mouth to mine. I suck her lower lip into my mouth, savoring
