I’m so gone for this woman.
She’s not just the one. She’s . . . the rest of me.
“How was I surviving before, baby?” Wells flipped their positions, rolling her roughly onto her back and hitting a breakneck pace, her knees damn near in her armpits. “What was I doing without you?”
He was afraid of her answer, afraid that he’d exposed too much, so he fastened his mouth over Josephine’s and let the intense blast of relief hit him like a steamroller. It hurt so good, he roared brokenly into their kiss, his hips slamming down those final few times, before stiffening, his balls almost stinging from the sudden loss of pressure. Sweet mother of God.
Like before, he literally had no control of his muscles or intentions as he dropped, totally depleted of anything resembling strength, yet somehow he was the most powerful man alive, because this woman, this gift from heaven, his partner, had perfect breaths that matched his own. And she wasn’t going anywhere. She’s not going anywhere.
For now, whispered a voice in the back of his head.
Chapter Thirty-One
Josephine woke up to find her boyfriend pacing naked in the living room, arguing into his phone. He hadn’t even bothered to close the blinds, thus the Florida sunshine was bathing his backside in a warm, almost ethereal glow that made Josephine hold up her own phone and snap a picture. For posterity—or posterior’s sake. Both maybe?
When Wells noticed Josephine had entered the living room, he gave her a slow grin that made little fairies roll around in her belly, giggling and firing pixie dust from finger guns.
Oh my goodness.
This was love. Adoration, affection, connection. And definitely lust.
She’d never actually had to change her sheets in the middle of the night because they’d gotten too sweaty, but there was a first time for everything. Since she didn’t have to temper the desire to have a million first times with Wells, she smiled back at him, letting the welling sensation in her chest reach her eyes. And Josephine must have done a good job portraying how indescribably perfect and right it felt to wake up with this man, because he stopped pacing and stared at her, his Adam’s apple unmoving beneath his chin.
“I was going to need to change my flight to California, anyway,” he said into the phone. “I want to be on the same flight as Josephine.”
In the wake of that gruff pronouncement—and the increasing storm of pixie dust in her belly— Josephine could hear the faint voice of a man talking on the other end of the line.
“Hold on, I’m going to put you on speaker,” Wells interrupted, tapping the screen of his phone. “You’re on with me and Josephine.”
“Nice to meet you, Josephine. I’m Nate. You need a manager stat, honey.”
“No, she doesn’t. And don’t call her honey.”
An electronic snicker filled the apartment. “Sorry. Josephine. I was just telling your boy here that both of you need to get to California a couple of days early. Under Armour wants to meet with their new power duo to play kissy face. They also want to make sure Mr. Whitaker is still on the straight and narrow before they outfit the team for another tournament. You’ve also got some press to do. A practice round. I don’t know who this fucker thinks he is, rolling into town the night before a tournament starts.”
“Worked for us last time,” Wells barked.
“Yeah, well, people actually want to see your disgustingly handsome face now, don’t ask me why. The commissioner wants you and Josephine doing press, my man. You’re the big human-interest story heading into the Masters. It’s only two weeks away, you know. People love a comeback.”
Josephine pressed a hand to her stomach to calm it.
Two weeks to the Masters. With all the changes in her life recently, the most prestigious tournament on the tour schedule by a mile had really crept up fast. Was Wells ready for that four-day pressure cooker, the competition to earn the almighty green jacket?
Yes.
She’d do everything in her power to make sure he was.
“How soon do we need to be there?” Wells asked, still completely naked and 100 percent glorious. “Does tomorrow work?”
Nate sighed. “It’s going to have to be tonight if you want the commissioner happy.”
“Since when do I give a f—” Wells stopped short when Josephine widened her eyes at him. “Hold on.” He smashed a finger to the screen while crossing the room toward Josephine. “Josephine, quit looking at my dick. I can’t concentrate.”