And then he yanked my head up higher and bit my neck.
I hadn’t been expecting it, and the brief flash of pain paired with the thrill of feeling teeth sink into me sent me to new heights, frantic, needy sounds falling from my lips. My mind blanked. My ears filled with a buzzing noise as I slammed my hips backward. I was coming. I was coming so hard that all I could do was writhe, my pussy clenched so tightly Josh could barely move.
And then he was coming too, his cock lengthening, stiffening, warmth flooding into me as he unloaded deep inside. The feel of it prolonged my orgasm, or maybe it triggered a second. All I knew was that I’d never felt so good for so long, and I never wanted it to end.
We came down slowly, together, breathing like we were still running. Josh lay draped over my back, his forehead resting against my spine. The sound of his exhalations filled my ears. I felt his heart pounding against my ribcage.
I’d never felt so connected to someone before, never loved someone like I loved him.
“Marry me,” I said.
Josh stiffened. “What?”
Panic punched into me, chasing away the afterglow of sex hormones and dumping me straight back into reality. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Josh pulled out of me, the warmth of our climaxes slipping down my thighs. This was why people shouldn’t speak right after they came. They overshared or said foolish things their partners weren’t ready to hear.
“I’m sorry,” I said, scrambling up and trying to tug my ruined pants back into place. My fingers were slick with mud, and I was shaking so badly that I could barely grip the wet fabric.
Josh was quiet behind me.
Shit! What had I done?
I spun toward him, expecting the worst, and found him kneeling on the forest floor. One hand lifted, something in it catching the sunlight and sparkling.
I clapped a hand over my mouth and took a disbelieving step toward him. It was a ring. Josh was holding a ring. A stunning ring with a center ruby that looked like a large drop of blood framed by tiny diamonds. It was perfect.
“Alyssa Cappellucci,” he said. “Will you marry me so I can spend the rest of my life chasing you?”
I lowered my hand, grinning, joy replacing panic. “I thought people got married because they wanted to stop chasing someone?”
He shook his head, his expression serious for what felt like the first time in our entire relationship. “Not me.”
“Not me either,” I said, reaching him in two strides and dropping down to throw my arms around his neck. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Ten minutes later, we were cleaned up and heading out of the forest. I’d taken us so far off the beaten path that we had to use GPS to find our Airbnb.
As frenzied as my race through the woods had been, I’d missed a lot of the beauty surrounding me, and as we meandered back to the main trail, I took my time drinking it in. This land was part of a state park that hadn’t been logged in at least fifty years. The trees were giant, their limbs spreading far overhead to blot out the blue sky with the canopy they formed. Streams like the one we’d flailed around in dotted the woods, some bare trickles, others deep enough that there were footbridges over them.
I sent a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who might be listening that I got to experience this. That I was free and not behind bars. The police had never come to interview me, though they had asked Erica questions. As Nico promised, Brad sightings continued until a few weeks ago, ending near a private airport outside Quebec. The reigning theory was that the Bluhms had chartered a jet and flown their son to a country that didn’t extradite to the US.
They were getting dragged over the coals in the media, and the city’s sentiment had long since turned against them, making them little more than prisoners inside their house. I might have felt bad if not for the fact that a) their house was a 20,000-square-foot mansion and b) while they might be innocent now, they had covered for plenty of Brad’s previous crimes. I considered it their comeuppance for all their past sins.
I didn’t think I would ever stop worrying that what we’d done would catch up to us one day, but I no longer let it rule my thoughts. I was free. I was in love. And I was determined to enjoy those things for as long as possible.
Taking a deep breath, I turned my face toward the sky. As stifling as the heat had been during my run, I was grateful for it now because it helped dry our soaking clothes.
“Next time we do this, we should wear backpacks,” I said.
Josh cocked his head sideways at me. “For sex toys?”
“For spare clothes and a first aid kit.”
He lifted his brows.
I rolled my eyes. “And fine, yes, for sex toys.”
He grinned, looking pleased with himself, and threaded his fingers through mine. I didn’t miss his glance down at my hand. Or, more specifically, the ring on it. “We should consummate our engagement when we get back.”
“I need a shower first,” I said. “I have river sand in unmentionable places.”
He chuckled. “Same. And you should probably look at this cut. I think it might be serious.” He lifted his other arm and curled his fist inward like he was posing. There was a tiny scratch on the inside of his bicep. “See? Right here.” He flexed, making his muscles pop. “Do you see it?” He flexed again.
It was my turn to laugh. “Yes. It looks like it might be life-threatening. We better hurry.”
He slapped my ass.
I reached out and ran a hand down his crotch.
By the time we made it back to our Airbnb, we were groping each other like a couple of teenagers on their first date. Somehow, in between kisses, Josh managed to get the door unlocked.
I pushed it open and dropped my hands to the hem of my shirt, more than ready to get out of my damp clothes.
We froze at the sight that greeted us.
The cabin was small, just a single, wide-open space with a living room on one side and a mini kitchen on the other. The bathroom was tucked further back behind a door, and the queen-sized bed that Josh could barely fit on was overhead in the loft.
Someone had toilet-papered the entire place.
What the hell? Was this some sort of prank?
Oh, God.
Josh and I shared a panicked look.
“The cats!” he said, dashing inside.
My pulse skyrocketed as fear slammed into me. If anything had happened to them, I was going to join Josh in killing someone.
He came to a stop in front of me so fast that I bounced off his back. I shook my head to clear the spots from my eyes and glanced around him to see what had pulled him up short. There, sitting in a nest of toilet paper, was Maud, our twelve-week-old problem child. She chirruped in greeting, grabbed a mouthful of paper, and took off toward the bathroom, trailing a long line of it behind her.
I stepped beside Josh, watching her go. “We’ll get a little girl kitten, he said. She’ll be super cute, he said. Fred needs someone to play with so he doesn’t get lonely.”
As if summoned, Fred leaped out from behind the bathroom door, paws raised, and tackled Maud. They went rolling and spitting across the floor before Fred took off with her hot on his heels, still trailing toilet paper in her wake.
“You did this to us,” I told Josh.
The cabin was so small that there was nowhere for Fred to go but up, and as we watched, he scaled the nearest curtain. I had just enough time to realize that maybe I had been overfeeding him before a crack ricocheted throughout the room, and the curtain rod fell to the floor, burying the cats in fabric. Two little bumps popped up beneath it, running in opposite directions as they tried to claw their way free.