“Say it back.” I slowly thrust in and out of her, watching as she started to lose control. “Say it back, Claire.”
“I...I love...I love you too...” She cried out and held onto me as we came at the same time.
Her chest was heaving fast and she was breathing heavily.
I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers, muffling most of her murmurs. I kissed every inch of her face and placed a long, warm kiss against her neck.
When her breathing finally slowed down, I slid out of her and pulled her into my lap.
“Are you okay?” I brushed her damp hair away from her forehead.
She nodded.
“You should’ve told me you were taking classes. I wouldn’t have been upset about you coming home late because of that.”
“I...I wanted to surprise you...Did you like it?”
“I loved it...” I kissed her lips again and positioned her in my lap. “And I’m going to love fucking you in every position you mentioned for the rest of the night.”
I woke up alone and rolled over in bed, reaching for Claire, but she’d disappeared. Just as I was about to get up and look for her, she walked into the room holding a breakfast tray.
“Are you ever going to tell me how breakfast is always magically fixed and waiting for us every morning?” She set the tray on the nightstand.
“No.”
“You have a contract with a caterer don’t you?” She picked up a piece of toast. “That’s why you never cook breakfast—only lunch and dinner...”
“Was that supposed to be a question?”
“Do you plan on answering it?”
I pulled her back into the bed and kissed her lips. “I’ll tell you one day.”
She tried to get up, but I pinned her down and kissed my way to her neck.
“Wait...We need to talk...” she murmured.
“About what?” I continued kissing her.
“I’m getting my tubes untied next week. I want to try and have another baby—your baby.”
“Excuse me?” I sat up and narrowed my eyes at her. “What did you just say?”
She burst into laughter. “I wanted to make sure you were paying attention. It was a joke.”
“Please don’t tell another one.”
She propped her head on a pillow. “I don’t want to have sex again until after we’re married. I was thinking about it the other day and...”
My mind hadn’t processed anything beyond that first sentence.
I saw her lips moving, caught a few more of her words—“intimate” “special” “genuine”—but that first sentence had blown my mind.
“What do you think?” was the next thing I heard her say.
“What do I think about what?”
“About being abstinent until we get married.”
“It’s not happening.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t make any damn sense. Because I didn’t ask you to be my wife so I could not fuck you. It’s. Not. Happening.”
She sighed. “I want our first time as a married couple to be special...”
“It will be special.” I ran my hand across her thigh. “Very special.”
“I want it to be like our first time...”
“I fucked you in a kitchen our first time. What are you saying, Claire?”
“You know exactly what I’m saying.” She sat up and kissed me. Then she spoke very slowly. “I don’t want to have sex again until we’re actually married. I think it’ll be good for us—it’ll test our commitment to one another.”
I was silent. Shocked.
After the amazing night we’d had, I couldn’t believe she was saying these words to me, that she was even asking me to do something like this.
I shook my head. “I can’t...”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“Both.”
“Jonathan...”
I pulled her into my arms, close enough that we were lip to lip and our eyes were perfectly aligned. “I’m addicted to you, Claire,” I whispered against her mouth. “Fucking addicted. Not one second goes by that you’re not on my mind. Not. One. Second. When deals are coming across my desk, I’m wondering how your day is going at your shop, wondering if you’ll laugh or smile at the note I sent with your flowers. You have no idea how hard it is for me to stay in my office when you text me about going on your lunch break, no idea how much I have to restrain myself when you’re not home by six and hosting another late night meeting.”
She sucked in a breath and I ran my fingers through her hair, whispering again. “I go through withdrawal every time we go our separate ways because being without you for one second is damn near unbearable. So, if I’m being completely fucking honest about what you’re asking me to do—I can’t.”
There was a thick silence hanging in the air between us, and before she opened her mouth to break it, I knew exactly what she was going to say.
“It would make me happy if you would do this for me—if you would at least try... I’ve been thinking about it for a while and it’s something I really want us to do...”
“Claire...” I shook my head and sighed, wishing I could find the asshole who’d filled her head with this nonsense. “If I agree to this, if I fully commit to this absolutely ridiculous idea, I want you to know that I will not give in until after we’re married.”
“I’m so very honored.”
“No matter how much you beg—and you will beg because I know you better than you know yourself, I will not have sex with you until after we’ve said I do.”
“Thank you very much.” She smiled and kissed me, and I had to prevent myself from pulling her into my lap.
“Since we’re going to have a pretty boring afternoon...” I picked a silver box up from the nightstand and handed it to her. “You didn’t get a chance to open your anniversary present yesterday.”
“You didn’t get the rest of yours either.” She pointed to a strange white patch on her left foot. “Peel this off.”
I raised my eyebrow and slowly peeled back two layers of gauze and tape. There was nothing underneath it, nothing but—I stopped.
“I had my freedom date tattoo removed. I’ve been getting pieces of it etched away for months...” she whispered. “I don’t want any part of my past in our future...”
I looked at her bare foot, running my fingers against where her divorce date used to be. Then I looked into her eyes, not saying anything—hoping she could simply see how much that meant to me.
Sighing, I pulled her closer. “Open the box.”
She smiled and gently pulled at the silver ribbon, purposely taking her time. Then she popped the top off and read the small handwritten note aloud: “I loved you the first time I saw you, I loved you the first time I met you, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life—Jonathan...”
She ran her finger against those words a few more times, and gasped as she pulled the sparkling silver necklace out of the box.
I’d thought long and hard about what to get her for our first anniversary since we’d come so far from where we used to be: She no longer questioned our age difference or had any hesitation about other people knowing she was mine. In fact, she was the happiest I’d ever seen her and she talked about our “forever” more than I did.
“How much did you pay for this?” she whispered.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re more than worth it.” I took the necklace from her hands—a glittering diamond strand with an infiniti charm and the word “love” etched within its loops. “I’m adding the same charm to your other necklace next week. I want to add a new one to it every year.”
She smiled, and then she shook her head. “I never said it back that day, Jonathan...Why is this our anniversary when I never said it back?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The first day you told me that you loved me last year—when we were in the Jacuzzi together, I never said ‘I love you’ back...I didn’t tell you until months later at that conference...”
I sighed and pulled her close. “You said it in your sleep that night. More than once...You say it in your sleep now...”