“Then we’ll still be together and have kids later. When the timing’s right.”
When the timing’s right. That sounds…
Perfect.
But even if the timing is wrong, it would still be perfect.
As long as I was with Jordan.
“Preferably after we get married, I guess,” he continues, dropping the words get married like the most casual of bombs.
My jaw falls open and I tug the sheet up when I realize I’m sitting here with my breasts on full display and he’s talking about actually marrying me. If he’s for real, I don’t want to remember how I was naked when he proposed to me. What is this life anyway?
“After we get married?”
He nods. “Married.”
“You want to marry me?”
“Pretty sure I’ve wanted to marry you since I was thirteen.”
I scoff. “Impossible.”
He grabs hold of me out of nowhere, showing off those quick reflexes he usually saves for the football field. I’m pinned beneath him, my head on the pillow, his hands around my wrists, holding them against the mattress, his legs straddling my hips. I can feel his erection pressed against me and I silently marvel at his stamina.
Luckily enough, the man never, ever seems to stop wanting me.
“Why are you being so difficult?” he asks just before he dips his head and delivers a too-quick kiss to my lips.
“I’m trying to tell you how I feel,” I say, squirming beneath him. He’s heavy, but I love feeling him on top of me. I actually crave the weight of him pressing me into the mattress.
Always.
“I’m trying to do the same thing. But then you start snorting at me or whatever and saying my feelings are impossible.” He thrusts against me, nice and slow. A total tease. “You’re kind of rude.”
“You’re rude for making me lay in the wet spot,” I say with a sniff.
His eyes grow dim. “I am rude for forgetting the condom.”
“Stop worrying about the condom.” I blink up at him, my mood turning serious. “You’re clean right?”
“Yeah.” He nods, his gaze dropping to my lips, lingering there. “Totally clean. I get tested every six months.”
He dips his head, kissing me before I answer him, “I’m clean too.”
“Good.” He kisses me again. “Now that we got that out of the way, I need to ask you a question.”
“What?”
“Will you marry me?”
I touch his face, my fingers sliding down his cheek. My chest is tight. I’m afraid I might burst into tears. “Yes,” I whisper.
Jordan grins. “I knew you’d say yes.”
“So arrogant.” He tries to kiss me yet again but I turn my head. “You just asked me to marry you. Now we have things to do.”
“Like what?” He dips his head, his mouth resting at the spot where my shoulder meets my neck.