“Is the color right? I spent a lot of time looking at pictures of her. Trying to find just the right shade.”
I wish I could say something to that, but I’m too choked up. So, I just fold her into a hug, take a deep inhale of the scent on her skin—cherries, always cherries—and whisper into the crook of her neck, “It’s perfect, Princess. And so are you.”
Life has never been better.
Work. Family. House. Truck.
The fact that Summer is on top of me. Riding me. Hips swiveling, head tilted back, dainty hands massaging her breasts, sporting a light sheen of sweat all over her golden skin. Her lips are slightly parted, and that’s where my eyes snag. Puffy and pink and making the most delicious fucking whining noises.
She looks like a fucking goddess in the harsh afternoon light.
I’ve never loved her more.
“Did you miss me, Princess?” I ask, gripping her hips just above where those little creases form.
She stares down at me, eyes brimming with desire, cheeks rosy, hair in the messiest of buns. I remember the first day we met. Her bun was so tight that it looked borderline painful as she sat across from me in that boardroom.
But that was a year ago. And my girl has changed a lot since then. She’s all undone right now—just the way I like her. Undone and riding my cock.
“Yes, so much. I’m coming next time.”
I think I love her more with each passing moment.
A deep rumble in my chest sounds as I reach to rub at her clit. “You’re a business owner now. Can’t go following your boyfriend around the country.”
She stops now, glaring down at me. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
I especially love her when she gives me attitude.
I thrust up with a smirk. “Ride harder.” I rub more firmly at her clit, knowing she won’t be able to resist moving again if I do.
I smile when I’m right. She moves again with a playful little shake of her head. “Such a good girl, Summer. Ride it.”
She moans, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m coming next time.”
“Baby, you’re coming a few seconds from now. Let’s see those tits bounce. Go harder. Take it all.”
“Fuck,” she breathes as her head tips back, the sun catching her hair and making it shimmer. I let my hand trail up her body, her waist, the light line in her abdomen from spending her days working out.
I stop when my palm rests on the scar over her chest. And now, the look she gives me is soft, full of love and tenderness. I spent two weeks on the road and she’s acting like I was gone for months on end.
“I hated being away from you,” I confess, loving the way her lips tip up when I say shit like that. “But I love you. And I love watching you come on my cock. Let me watch. Let me see it. Let me hear it.”
She bites down on her puffy bottom lip, and I almost explode on the spot. When she nods, I double my efforts, thrusting up to meet her, circling more tightly on her clit. Her wet heat clenches on me.
And then she’s crying out, “Rhett!” with her head tipped back, lashes fluttering shut, looking like a goddamn angel. It’s still the best sound in the world. And I follow, hand still on her heart, shooting up into her, while she falls forward on to me murmuring, “I love you.”
“So fucking good,” I murmur back, feeling like I should pinch myself. Like I have no idea how I stumbled into having a woman like Summer choose a man like me.
But that’s just it. We’re here, choosing each other every damn day. And I want to choose her for the rest of my life.
I’d have married her that day in the stands when I retired. Right there. On the fucking spot. But I’m greedy like that, and I know she needed time to sort her life out. Hell, I needed time to sort my life out.
Her sister still won’t talk to her. And that’s a wound I so desperately wish I could fix for her. But I can’t. Not yet anyway. And her stepmom is lucky she doesn’t come around because I’d have more than a few words for someone who’s as cruel to my girl as Marina is to Summer. But she and her dad are closer than ever. And everyone in my family—hell, my entire town—loves her to pieces.
She’s become the golden girl of Chestnut Springs since buying out the local gym and transforming it into Hamilton Athletics. The place geared toward training athletes. Or torturing grown men as I like to call it.
It’s good for our small economy. And the ladies from town love it. They say they’re going for a Pilates class, but really just sit around and stare at the hockey players and bull riders who train there during their off-seasons.
Summer flops forward and kisses me, warm and damp and smelling like cherries, fingers tangling in my hair. “I said I love you.”
“I love you too, Princess. You know I do.” I feel her smile against the skin of my chest before she rolls off me with a satisfied sigh.
I press a kiss to the scar on her chest and get up to get a warm cloth.
Over the sound of the running water, I hear her voice. “How much?”
Chuckling as I walk out of the bathroom, I catch sight of her, and the air in my lungs stills. She’s heart-stopping, sprawled on our king-sized mattress. Right now, it’s just a mattress on the floor. The unfinished floor. And she’s surrounded by drywall that needs painting.
Our expansive rancher is definitely not complete yet, but we couldn’t wait to move in. I was sick of her living in the studio loft above her gym. We built on our favorite hookup spot. The spot where we’d drive “the rust bucket”—as my truck has become lovingly known—toss a blanket in the back and make love under the stars. This spot has the best view of the mountains—and that’s what Summer wanted.
And I want her with me all the time. It’s fucking consuming. But she’s my favorite human in the world. After a certain amount of time together, other people usually get on my nerves.
But not Summer. She’s my person. And I’m hers. Two halves of the same whole.
“Tell me. Tell me how much you love me.” Her lips tip up and her eyes dance.
“Woman, I’m wiping you with a hot washcloth after sex. That’s how much I love you.”
“Tell me more.”
I crouch down beside her and get to wiping, mind racing as I do, dick filling again being this close to her pussy.
I feel her eyes on me. She’s waiting for me to say more.
I slide her lacy thong back up her legs, because she looks fucking fantastic in expensive lingerie. “Turn over. I’ll show you.”
Her lips twist, questions dancing in her eyes, but she relents with a sigh, showing me her beautiful round ass.
I can’t help but pop a nice loud smack on it before walking back across the room to chuck the cloth in the hamper, pull on a pair of sweats, and reach for the bag I dropped in the bedroom before losing all my clothes with her. Swiping a pen, I walk back over to her, catching the curious glance she gives me over her shoulder.
“Okay. Pay very close attention, Princess.”
She giggles and nods her head. “Okay.”
I straddle her, and it’s a terrible idea, because all I can think about is sliding my dick between her legs. But I focus, uncapping the pen.
And then I start writing. Connecting the dots on her back the way I often do with the pad of my finger when we lay together. Her back is like the night sky, full of constellations. She and I really are binary stars, stuck in each other’s orbit, drawn together by forces we can’t see or understand—but that we can feel.