Thanksgiving
Except for a few hours when Mark borrowed her car and made a trip to his apartment for a duffel of clean clothes and made a grocery run, she and Mark spent the next two days tucked away in Karma’s apartment, making love, making plans, ignoring phone calls, and getting reacquainted with one another.
Thursday morning, Karma woke early and hopped in the shower as Mark continued sleeping. She had a batch of truffles and homemade stuffing to make today for Thanksgiving dinner at her parents’. Hopefully, these truffles would turn out better than her previous two attempts.
She prepped all the ingredients for both dishes before starting in on the truffles, then crossed her fingers as she put the cream on to boil.
A couple of minutes later, Mark strolled into the kitchen wearing boxers and a T-shirt, his hair damp. He smelled like Irish Spring and aftershave.
“Good morning.” He cozied up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and planted a full-lipped kiss on her cheek. “Mmm, truffles for breakfast, but I’d rather have you.”
She giggled as he nibbled her neck. “These are for Thanksgiving dinner. I promised I’d make truffles. I just hope they turn out this time.”
He stepped out from behind her and checked the cream. “They will. I can feel it.”
“Is it ready?” She deferred to Mark’s expertise. The man was a veritable genius in the kitchen. She’d sampled the proof more than once in the four months they’d been together.
“Almost. A few more seconds.”
She scooted the bowl of chopped chocolate toward the stove and grabbed the sieve.
“Okay, that’s good.” Mark shut off the cream then took it off the burner and let it rest several seconds then gestured for her to pick up the pan.
“You want me to pour it?” She’d hoped he would. That was the only way she would learn.
“Sure. This way you get a feel for it.”
She picked up the pan and held it suspended over the chocolate as Mark eased behind her again, one hand around her waist, the other resting on her arm.
“Slowly,” he said. “Pour the cream in slowly.” His hand skimmed up to her shoulder and brushed aside her hair. His lips closed on the side of her neck.
How the hell did he expect her to concentrate on pouring cream when he was doing that?
Once the cream was in the bowl, she set aside the sieve and picked up the whisk.
Mark’s hands found her breasts. “Take your time. Don’t rush it. Let the cream seduce the chocolate into submission.” His deep, seductive voice stroked her like a feather as she slowly stirred the cream and chocolate together to the same rhythm with which his hands squeezed and released her breasts in sultry circles, over and over. “Let the cream gently make love to the chocolate so they become one…until they’re inseparable.” He pressed his erection against her backside and released her breasts, only to wrap his arms around her torso.
Little by little, as he ground himself against her in time with her stirring, the nibs of chocolate melted into the cream until she had a smooth, creamy bowl of ganache.
She wasn’t sure how much longer she could maintain control. When Mark got this way, she was practically candle wax under a hot flame.
“Is that what we are?” she whispered, picking up the coffee and pouring it into the ganache.
“What? Inseparable?” He kissed her shoulder.
She added the vanilla and whisked it in. “Yes.”
He took the whisk, tapped it on the side of the bowl, and set it on the counter before turning her around. “Yes. That’s what we are. Like ganache, you and I are better together than we are apart.” He inched closer, his gaze burning her from the inside out. “Now, what do you say we explore all that togetherness while we’re waiting for the ganache to set?”
She’d barely had a chance to nod when his lips seared hers as he lifted her, spun her around, and slammed her back against the refrigerator as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
The jars in the door rattled as he swallowed her breath.
For two days, Mark had been gentle but passionate, loving her body, kissing her mind, cherishing her. Now it was as if he’d only been a dam with a tiny leak, and the leak had finally burst to let the water gush through. He was all over her. In her, on her, surrounding her. God, the overwhelming assault was like nothing she’d ever experienced. He was practically consuming her.
His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs, and he hiked her against him, banging her against the refrigerator again. A box of crackers she’d set on top tumbled off the edge and bounced across the floor.
Jesus! Karma gasped as he broke the kiss and latched onto her neck with a guttural growl.
The refrigerator shook again as he thrust against her, his erection grinding between her legs as if two layers of flannel didn’t separate them.
Every breath was a moan. Every movement a stroke of pleasure.
And then he lifted her away from the refrigerator, carried her to the bedroom, and tossed her onto the bed before crashing down over her.
They wrestled and rolled, peeling away their clothes in a frantic, possessive battle.
His hand wrapped around the back of her neck. A split second later, he fisted her hair and yanked back her head before frisking her neck with his teeth.
Yes! He’d never pulled her hair. Not like this. The memory of their first true night together—when they’d played Truth or Dare and he’d told her he loved when a woman pulled his hair—flashed into her mind. This was what he’d meant. This unabashed feeling of wanton lust. No wonder he liked it so much.
He rolled with her and sat up, still tugging viciously, directing her head where he wanted it, until his mouth devoured hers again in a rush of fire.
Theirs was a battle of passion. Two bodies entwined in a war of mutual dominance, seeking only pleasure. His hunger stoked her own. Unable to stop herself, she clasped her arms around his shoulders, dug her fingers into his hair, and grasped two healthy handfuls. As she held on for all she was worth, he growled, and his hold intensified.
“You’re mine now.” He tossed her to the side, reached into the drawer for a condom, hastily rolled it on, then flipped her to her stomach.
She slapped one hand against the headboard, breathless, moaning, needing him inside her. A year away from him seemed to be culminating in this one electrifying moment, even though they’d already spent two days enjoying each other.
The front of his body crashed down over the back of hers, and he split her open with his knees. This was feral sex. Raw and basic. Karma’s entire body shuddered in anticipation.
His hot breath washed over the back of her neck as he shoved her hair aside and laved her nape. Then she felt his cock nudge between her legs, and then…
She gasped as he penetrated her in one swift stroke. Hard.
This was fucking. This was the against-the-conference-room-wall office sex they’d had two summers ago times fifty.
The bed rocked and banged the wall, providing an erotic beat to his rhythmic thrusts. His fists planted on either side of her torso as he lifted and pounded harder.
Within seconds, Karma shrieked as she came, the relentless impact with her G-spot too much to hold back.
He raised to his knees and gripped her hips, lifting her rump higher as she pressed her cheek against the mattress.
Oh God, she was going to come again. So fast. So soon after the first.
Gasping for air, unable to comprehend the profound attack on her senses, her body seized again, breaking into violent tremors as he continued to drive into her. It was as if he was determined to remind her who she belonged to, how much pleasure he could give her, and how strong their chemistry was.
If there had been any doubt before, there was none now.
His hand smacked her right cheek, and she sucked in her breath. He’d never spanked her.
“Again!” She could barely speak through her urgent panting.
His hand whacked her ass a second time, and the pleasure that rippled through her core sparked a third orgasm to life.
“AGAIN!” She needed more. Her third orgasm needed to be set free.
His hand landed a third time, harder than the previous two, and the sound of flesh slapping flesh was as erotic as the act itself.
“Fuck, Karma!” Mark grunted. Obviously, he could feel how close she was to another orgasm so close on the heels of the first two.
She gripped the headboard, arching her back to intensify the contact with her pleasure zone. Shit, but this was dirty sex. The kind that porn stars had on camera, hot and sweaty and all lust. And she fucking loved it. For too long she’d had saltine sex with Brad. This was gourmet-crackers-with-caviar-and-foie gras sex, just without the refinement. There was nothing refined about the way Mark drilled her like a relentless battering ram. His gritty urgency and slaps to her ass blew her mind in such a welcome way.
The pleasure built, deepened, and doubled on itself. When the orgasm struck, she almost blacked out.
In an instant, Mark pulled out, fell to his back, and pulled her on top of him.
“I want to see your face when I come,” he hissed urgently.
Still in the throes of her third orgasm, she raised herself then sank down on his shaft. His eyes rolled back and he reached around to grip her tender ass, pushing and pulling her against him as he pounded into her from below.
In this position, she could grind her clit against him, and that sent a completely different sensation through her core.
Lifting up, she dug her blunt nails into his chest, briefly grinning at his tattoo. He was branded. She owned him.
Leaning down as she rotated her hips around and around, she pierced his gaze with hers. “You’re mine now.” It was what he’d said to her earlier, and in the moment, she knew the promise went both ways.
Realization and acceptance flashed through his gaze as a tight moan fluttered from his chest. And as swiftly as a bird takes flight, the control shifted from him to her. She felt his body give. Felt him relinquish control and acknowledge his place as hers to do with as she pleased.
“Then take me,” he whispered, his voice shaking.
She grabbed his arms and flung them out to the sides against the mattress before locking her hands with his. Holding him down, she ground herself against him, driving her body against his, urgently seeking her fourth climax but more determined to drag his first out of him.
He moaned and gripped her fingers, his whole body tight as a drum. “Hold me down. Claim me.”
Shoving his arms up the bed and over his head, she lowered herself against him, pressed her breasts against his chest, and licked his lips.
“Who owns you?” She snagged his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged. “Hmm?” She let his lip go. “Who owns you, Mark?”
He groaned, and his eyes glazed over, his pupils fully dilated. “God, you! You own me.” The skin around his eyes tightened. “Oh God!”
She knew the signs. Knew them so well. He was close.
Fucking him harder, she nipped his bottom lip, making him groan. His face tensed, and he sucked in a desperate breath. “Fuck, don’t stop.” He drew in another tight breath and held it, never looking away from her eyes. He took several shallow, pinched breaths as his faced strained. Then he blew apart.
She released his hands, and he drove his arms around her, clutching her body to his. His biceps pulsed in time with the contractions of his lower abdomen as his cock emptied in a series of spasms inside her.
Mark coming was a glorious experience. His entire body got in on the act. He seemed to feel it everywhere, right down to the tips of his fingers. Every muscle jerked. Every cell seemed to climax. And to think she’d given him that.
When they’d finished ravishing each other, and they were lying in a breathless heap with their arms around one another, she closed her eyes and thanked whatever power had brought him back to her.
His fingers tenderly stroked up and down her arm.
“You know,” he said quietly, “there was no one else while we were apart.”
She drowsily lifted her head and looked at him. “What do you mean?”
He blinked and his gaze met hers. “I haven’t slept with anyone else.”
Narrowing her eyes, she raised up on one elbow. She almost couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. “What are you saying?”
He licked his lips and smiled. “What do you think I’m saying?”
“It sounds like you just said you haven’t had sex since the last time we—”
“I haven’t.” His eyebrows popped as his gaze quickly danced around her bedroom. “Well, except for here the last few days, of course.”
Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t speak. Had he seriously withheld himself from other women for the last year?
“Is that so hard to believe?” he said, curling toward her, his hand on her hip. “That I didn’t find anyone else worthy enough to share a bed with?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess. I just…” But she couldn’t find the words. “What about New Year’s Eve?”
He frowned. “New Year’s Eve? What do you mean?”
“I saw a picture of you. It was New Year’s Eve. You were with a woman. I thought…didn’t you…? Are you saying you never slept with her?”
Mark’s face was the picture of confusion as he tried to follow along, and then realization dawned. He chuckled. “That was just a blind date.” He rubbed his palm over his face. “And not a good one, I might add.”
“But…” All this time, she thought he’d been dating that woman. That she’d been his girlfriend, at least for a little while. She’d been wrong on all counts.
He pulled himself up on one elbow and ran his hand down her cheek. “Karma, no one else measures up to you. How could I sleep with someone else when I was in love with you? It’s only you I wanted. It’s always been you.”
In that moment, she knew without a doubt. There would never be another man in her life. Ever.
Mark was it.
* * *
Later, after another quick shower to wash away the sex and sweat, they returned to the kitchen, finished preparing the truffles, made the stuffing, and then loaded everything into her car.
“Thanksgiving dinner is more like a late lunch with my family,” she said as they fastened their seatbelts. “Then everyone eats leftovers for dinner…if they’re still hungry.”
Mark settled into the passenger seat. “My family does a huge, formal dinner. Since I was a baby, they’ve invited members from their studio and do up a massive table.”
This was nice hearing about the more personal details of Mark’s life. For all he’d told her, he hadn’t revealed much about his family.
“Were you supposed to spend the holiday with them?”
“Yes, but I’d rather be here.” He squeezed her hand. “This is where I need to be.”
The man could render her speechless with just a look, and she leaned across the seat and kissed him before putting her Civic in gear and pulling out of her parking space.
“You sure you’re up to this? My dad’s probably going to flip when he sees you instead of Brad.”
“Then I’ll just have to prove his worries are unfounded.”
Her dad wasn’t one to easily forgive and forget. He wouldn’t care that Karma was happy and in love. All he would see was a man who had hurt his daughter and would hurt her again. It would take a lot more than a handshake and a promise of Mark’s faith to win her dad over.
But this was what Karma wanted. In nine months with Brad, she hadn’t been nearly as happy as she was after only two days with Mark. But then, she had history with Mark. A wondrous, incredible, life-changing history.
Mark was the reason she was the woman she was today. He was the reason she’d overcome her insecurities. The reason her confidence was at an all-time high and her closet was filled with a wardrobe of fashionably sexy clothes and high heels. Mark had helped her find her voice when she’d thought it would be lost forever. Today, she would need that voice to silence her father’s misgivings. Because, without a doubt, Dad was going to blow a fuse when she walked in on Mark’s arm.
Her brother Johnny’s Audi was in her parents’ driveway when she turned onto their street.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I forgot that Johnny was going to be here today.” She had told Mark all about Johnny last year. How he’d made her childhood a living hell and was the cause for much of the insecurity Mark had helped her clear.
“Your brother?”
She nodded. “When he sees you with me, he’s going to know that Jolene was telling the truth last summer.” Jolene. Johnny’s friend. Ex-Solar employee who’d gotten the boot at Mark’s hands.
“I can handle him.” Mark patted her thigh.
She shrugged and pulled into the driveway behind Johnny’s car. “I guess everyone’s going to learn about you sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.” She shut off the engine and started to get out.
“Hey, wait a minute.” Mark grabbed her wrist.
She turned. “What is it?”
He cupped her face in his palm. “I love you. No matter what happens in there, we’ll get through this.”
Just hearing him say the words emboldened her. “I love you, too. And, yes, we will.” They were ganache, inseparable, better together than apart. Her family would just have to deal.
He held her gaze a moment longer then kissed her. “I’ll be right by your side the entire time.”
They gathered the truffles and stuffing and approached the front door. The partially melted snow crunched under Karma’s boots, and a cold wind bit her face.
“Here goes nothing.” She opened the door and led him inside.
Warmth embraced her, and the smell of roasted turkey and homemade rolls made her mouth water. Her mom refused to have store-bought rolls on Thanksgiving. She made what she called three-leaf clover rolls. Karma had helped her make them as a child. They were always the highlight of the Thanksgiving dinner table.
The sound of today’s pregame show and a baby crying came from the family room. Johnny and Estelle’s one-year-old daughter, Whitney.
“Shall we go say hello?” Karma gestured in the direction of the voices.
“Sure.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded toward the family room as if to say it was now or never. “Might as well.”
Mark seemed to be taking the potential for pending chaos better than she was, but that was probably only because she knew what they were in for. He didn’t.
Still holding the containers of truffles and stuffing, she led him into the family room and promptly stopped.
“What’s she doing here?” Not only were Johnny and Estelle there with Whitney, but so was Jolene. Her nemesis. The devil herself.
Jo’s eyes formed into slits the second she saw Mark. “I knew it!”
As if today wasn’t going to be hard enough, seeing Jolene there was the icing made of shit on a rock cake.
Karma spun around and stormed into the kitchen. “What’s Jo doing here?”
Her mom turned away from the stove. Her dad was pulling a perfect, golden brown turkey out of the oven.
“Honey, hi. We didn’t hear you come in. We were beginning to think you wouldn’t make it in time.” Her mom stepped forward to hug her.
Her dad set the turkey on the counter. “Where’s Brad? Have you two lovebirds set a date, yet?”
“Not exactly.” She clunked the bowl of truffles on the counter. “Now, will one of you please tell me what Jolene is doing here?”
In the living room, she heard Jolene bitching to Johnny and Estelle about her and Mark.
Her mom and dad exchanged exasperated glances. They didn’t like Jolene, either, so it made no sense why they’d invited her for Thanksgiving dinner.
“She didn’t have anyone to spend the holiday with. Her parents moved to Florida last winter, and she couldn’t afford to fly down and be with them.” Her mom sighed. “So I told Johnny she could join us. It is Thanksgiving, after all. No one should spend Thanksgiving alone. Surely we can all get along for a few hours, right?” She nodded, looking from Karma to her dad.
Her mom had no idea. Tensions were already going to spike once Dad saw Mark, but with Jolene there they would be catastrophic.
From the living room, Jo’s voice grew more shrill, as did Whitney’s wailing.
“Come on, honey,” her dad said. “I’m willing to suck it up for the day if you are.” He patted her shoulder. “Having you and Brad here will make things a lot ea…sier.” His voice dropped, which was Karma’s cue that Mark had just entered the kitchen behind her.
She turned as he set down the stuffing beside the truffles.
“Mr. and Mrs. Mason.” He held out his hand.
Her dad glared at Mark’s polite gesture and pointedly stuffed his hand in his jeans pocket. Her mom looked like she’d just seen Adolf Hitler’s ghost as she glanced back and forth between them. Karma could almost hear the questions racing through her mind. Who’s this and what happened to Brad?
Mark lowered his hand and she slipped hers around it. “Mom, Dad, I want you to meet Mark. He’s my…” What exactly was he? Friend with benefits? Fiancé? Lover?
“Boyfriend. I’m Karma’s boyfriend.”
She turned and smiled at him. “Okay, yes. He’s my boyfriend.”
Her dad cursed and threw the oven mitt he’d been holding onto the counter. “Damn it, Karma.”
“But…what about…?” Her mom looked completely lost. “What happened to Brad?” Her gaze dropped to Karma’s hand as if searching for the engagement ring she’d been wearing only a few days ago.
“I broke up with him.” Karma jutted out her chin, forcing her shoulders back.
“You what?” Her dad slapped his palm against the counter. “No, I won’t let you do this, Karma. Absolutely not.”
“It’s done, Dad! You can’t stop it.”
Jolene rushed into the fray, Johnny right behind her. Estelle must have stayed back with the baby.
“You bitch!” Jo said, glaring between her and Mark. “I knew it! You made me out to be a liar. I lost my job because of you.” She surged forward as if preparing to take a swing.
Mark’s arm shot out, and his hand latched on to Jo’s shoulder, forcing her to stay at arm’s length. “Let’s get one thing straight. You lost your job because you were completely inept, pawned off your work on everyone else—mostly Karma, weren’t accountable to your job, and stirred up trouble everywhere you turned. That’s why you lost your job. And the extramarital affair with your boss didn’t help.”
Jolene gasped and jerked backward as if slapped. “Fuck you!”
Mark smirked. “No thanks. I’m perfectly happy with what I’ve got right here.” His hand tightened around Karma’s.
“I bet you are.” Jo lunged forward again, getting past Mark this time. Her hand shot out and slapped Karma across the cheek.
Oh hell no!
Karma let go of Mark’s hand, cocked her arm, and punched Jo in the chin before Jolene even knew what hit her.
Jolene cried out and shielded her face from further assault as Johnny stepped between them to help break things up.
Tense silence unfolded over the next several seconds as the aggression calmed.
Her dad still wasn’t finished, though. “Karma, I won’t have this man in my home.” He jabbed his finger toward Mark.
Her mom turned concerned eyes toward him and covered her mouth. “John, don’t—”
“No, Cathy.” Her dad waved off her mom. “This man is the reason our daughter has been in therapy since last Thanksgiving.” He slashed his arm through the air as if that indicated going back in time. “He took advantage of our baby, used her, then left when he was finished. And he’ll do it again, mark my words.”
Karma’s hand latched onto Mark’s with such ferocity it was a wonder she didn’t snap the thing clean off.
“That’s not true!” She refused to let her father belittle what she and Mark had.
“I never meant to hurt her.” Mark pulled her against him as if protecting her. “I love her. I’ve always loved her. I want to marry her.”
What! Karma’s gaze flashed to his. Had he just said he wanted to marry her?
“Over my dead body!” Her dad took a menacing step forward, fists clenched.
Her mom grabbed onto his arm. “John, calm down. Don’t.”
“Get out of my house!” Her dad swung his finger toward the door.
“Dad!” She couldn’t believe her father was kicking her out on Thanksgiving.
Her dad’s gaze met hers. His pain and disappointment sliced into her. “I love you, honey, but you’re making a mistake. A big mistake. He’ll only hurt you again, and I won’t stand by and watch this time while he does.”
Karma glanced around at the accusing faces. Jolene seethed with self-satisfaction, even though her face was swelling. Johnny frowned as he looked from her to Dad and back again. Her mom’s shocked and dazed expression made Karma feel sorry for her. But her dad’s stern, resolute scowl spoke the loudest of them all.
“Fine.” She let go of Mark’s hand and grabbed the truffles off the counter. Mark picked up the stuffing. “If you’re going to make me choose…” She scanned the room one last time then glared at her dad. “Then I choose Mark.”
This hadn’t gone at all as she’d wanted, but that wasn’t her fault. Shoving Johnny and Jolene out of the way, she marched to the front door and back out into the cold.
The door slammed behind Mark as he joined her at the car.
“Would you like me to drive?” he said quietly.
As tears formed on the rims of her eyelids, she nodded. “Yes, please.” With trembling fingers, she pulled her keys from her purse and handed them over.
He helped her into the passenger seat, took his place behind the wheel, and didn’t say a word as he drove them away from her parents’ house.
After a few minutes, he reached for her hand. “You okay?”
She wrapped both her hands around his, leaned across the seat, and placed her forehead on his shoulder. “Yes.” Shit had gone south with her dad, but as long as she was with Mark, everything would be fine.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”
“It’s not your fault.” Hopefully, it would just take her dad a little time to come around and realize Mark was good for her. That he was here to stay this time.
They drove around for a while until they found an open convenience store. Inside, there was one cooler devoted to frozen foods, and they pulled out two turkey and gravy TV dinners.
At home, they turned on the football game, heated the dinners, then took the stuffing, the truffles, and the white sectioned trays of heated food into the living room and parked behind the coffee table.
“Not exactly what you’d anticipated for Thanksgiving, is it?” Mark swirled his fork in his instant mashed potatoes.
She smiled. “No, but at least you’re here.”
A puff of air burst from his nose. “Are you sure that’s such a good thing? I’m the reason you’re not stuffed with a real Thanksgiving dinner right now.”
She set down her fork and took his hand. “This is a real Thanksgiving dinner. What would have been fake is if I’d shown up at my parents’ house today with Brad. I didn’t love him. Not like I love you.”
She kissed him, letting the perfection of her feelings pour from her soul into his. She didn’t care what they ate, as long as they were together.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. “This weekend, I’ll make you a real Thanksgiving dinner.”
“With pumpkin pie?”
“Absolutely.” He caressed her face. “And we can stay in, just the two of us. We’ll watch football and make love.”
She smiled. “And get to know one another again.”
His lips brushed hers. “Definitely. I have so much to tell you. So many things I wanted to say and never did.”
“Me, too.”
After dinner, Mark helped clear the dishes then disappeared in the bedroom for a couple of minutes before meeting her back in the living room. He held a shallow white box and set it in her lap as he sat down beside her on the couch.
“What’s this?” She picked up the box. It weighed hardly anything.
“I bought it for you last Christmas. I grabbed it yesterday when I went to my apartment, so I could finally give it to you.”
“You bought me a Christmas present last year? Even though we weren’t together?”
He nodded. “I was trying to be optimistic.”
“I see.” She ran her fingertips over the white box, touched by how much he’d thought about her in their time apart.
He gestured toward the box. “Go ahead. Open it.”
She lifted the lid to find the most beautiful pleated Hermès scarf in vibrant shades of green and blue. She didn’t know much about scarves, but she knew Hermès was expensive.
“Mark…”
He lifted it from her hand and wrapped it around her neck, securing it with a loose knot. “It looks perfect on you.”
Her fingertips caressed the rich silk. “You didn’t need to buy me a gift.”
He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “Yes I did,” he whispered. “It allowed me to feel closer to you and gave me hope I’d be with you again.”
Since he put it that way, she could understand. She’d done the same with the pillowcase and sheets she’d tucked away in her keepsake box for similar reasons.
After a long, intimate moment, he pulled back, grabbed one of the truffles from the bowl, and lifted it toward her. “Would you like to do the honors?”
“What? See whether I got it right this time?”
A serious expression fell over his face as he slipped the truffle into her mouth. “No. To see whether we did.”
She bit into the truffle and succulent, smooth, perfect ganache spilled over her tongue. “Mmmm.” She nodded. They’d most definitely gotten it right. “It’s perfect.”
“Because we’re perfect,” he said. “Perfect for each other.” His lips closed over hers, once more sending her heart into orbit.
* * *
Mark gazed drowsily at the ceiling, his body still loose and relaxed from the orgasm he’d just had. Karma lay curled on her side against him, his arm around her.
Today had been a disaster, but at least they were public now. There were still a lot of questions that needed to be answered, especially about her job, but that could wait another day or two. He wasn’t finished soaking up just being with her again.
“Mark?”
“Mmm?” He blinked and turned his head toward her.
“What you said today. At my parents’.”
“Which part?” Except he already knew.
“You said you wanted to marry me.”
He grinned and kissed her hair. “That’s right.”
She lifted onto her elbows. “Did you mean that?”
“Every word.” He had a ways to go to overcome the trauma of his past before walking down the aisle again, but somehow, some way, he would. Because he wanted Karma to have his name in a way that was almost primal.
She smiled and lowered herself into the crook of his arm again. “This is so surreal.”
“What do you mean?”
“Us. You. Me. Together again.” Her fingers brushed lazily over his chest, and she did that thing he liked so much, where she plucked at the tufts of hair.
“Crazy, isn’t it? I loved you from the moment I saw you, but then I let you go.” He grinned to himself as he remembered the old saying. “If you love someone, set them free,” he said.
“If they come back to you, they’re yours forever.” She squeezed him.
“If they don’t, they never were.”
Karma lifted her head. Her face was so close to his their noses almost touched. “Are you mine forever now, Mr. Strong?”
He lifted her left hand and kissed her ring finger, right where he planned to put a ring someday. “I dare you to try and get rid of me, Miss Mason.”
She grinned and shook her head. “That’s one dare I refuse to accept.”
“Smart woman, because I’m here to stay now.” He stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek, letting his gaze drink in her face. “Thank you for coming back to me, little bird.”
She leaned into his touch and shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong. You came back to me.”
He thought about it a moment. “So I did. And I’m never flying away again.”