To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.
-George MacDonald
The diamond caught what little light filtered into the bedroom through the window, sparkling like her own personal star. She couldn’t stop staring at it, her hand resting on his chest.
“I can’t sleep,” she whispered.
Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours to allow sleep, even though exhaustion pulled at her body, as well as her mind. Her dad, Mark’s return, her re-engagement. Her brain wanted her to fall into dream land, but her spirit wanted to dance.
“Neither can I.” He shifted and turned on the light on his nightstand then secured her in his arms again.
“I’m too happy to sleep.” She snuggled against him. “My dad’s going to be fine. You’re back. What more could I want?”
If she’d been happy before, she was practically ecstatic now. She’d forgotten all about the very thing that had upset her so much to begin with.
“Well, there is one thing left for us to discuss.” He reached behind him and grabbed his phone from his nightstand. “Might as well make use of our insomnia and do it now.”
“What’s that?”
He rolled his head toward her and kissed her forehead then pressed his lips to hers. “Set our wedding date.”
She smiled against his mouth. “Okay, Mr. Strong.” She kissed him again. “I’ve been thinking about this already. How about September? That gives us plenty of time to plan and—”
He shook his head. “September’s not soon enough.”
A shiver rattled up and down her spine at the decisive glint in his eye. “Well then . . .” Her voice whispered between her lips. “What did you have in mind?”
He grinned. Tiny laugh lines broke around his eyes. “June, Miss Mason. I want June.”
“June?” Her mouth fell open. “That’s, like, only a month away!”
“Not if we shoot for the end of the month.”
“Still, that’s barely only two months. How are we going to pull off a big wedding in two months?”
“Anything’s possible when you throw enough money at it.”
She smirked. “And I suppose that’s what you plan on doing?”
He rolled onto his side, facing her. “I do.” His eyes opened wide as he sucked in his breath, making an O with his mouth. “See what I did there? I said, ‘I do.’ I’m practicing.”
Mark had never spoken so lightheartedly about getting married.
“Are you okay?” She pressed her palm to his forehead.
He laughed then pulled her against him, sighing as he buried his nose in her hair. “I’m not sick.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m just ready to marry you, Karma.”
She smiled against his chest. “That must have been some two-hour conversation you had with Carol and Antonio.”
“You could say that.”
“It feels like you’ve let go of a burden.”
“I have. One I’ve been carrying far too long.” His hold tightened. “Now it’s just you and me. No more Carol. No more fear. No more panic.” He patted her rump. “And I want to get married. The sooner the better. So, let’s set that date.” He released her and rolled to his back, lifting his phone and opening his calendar to June.
She shimmied up against him and rested her head on his shoulder as he scanned through the weeks to the end of the month.
“If you want a Saturday, we’re looking at either the twenty-second or the twenty-ninth,” he said.
She shrugged. “If we can get a Saturday in June, either day works for me.”
His index finger pointed back and forth between the two days as if he were playing eenie-meenie-miney-moe in his head. “How about the twenty-ninth, but we keep the date open? That way, if we find a venue that’s available on the twenty-second, we can grab it.”
She lifted her head and set her chin on his chest. “I think we have a date, Mr. Strong.”
His gaze drove deep into hers. So deep she could feel the love pour from his soul into hers. “I can’t wait to be your husband, Karma. To start a new journey together as husband and wife.”
She swirled her fingertips over his chest. “This new you is going to take some getting used to.”
“Well, get used to it, because I’m not afraid anymore.”
This was the Mark she’d fallen in love with, with one exception. He was all hers. And his confidence was real, not a mask hiding a secret fear.
Carol no longer haunted his memories. Her shadow no longer fell over his face. She was gone for good.
“What did you and Carol say to one another that brought about such a drastic change?”
He reclined once more against his pillows. “It was simple, really.” He shook his head as though he couldn’t believe how simple it had been. “We both just . . .” He blew out a cleansing exhale. “Apologized.” He set his phone back on his nightstand. “She had been holding on to guilt, and I’d been holding on to resentment. Once we both apologized and forgave the other, the smoke cleared.” He frowned as he turned his gaze to the ceiling. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. The moment I realized she’d been living in her own self-imposed hell the same way I had, even if hers manifested differently than mine, all the resentment I’d been carrying all these years just sort of evaporated.” He met her gaze again. “The reality was that we were both too young to get married. We started dating and, after a while, thought we had to get married. Like we couldn’t possibly have grown apart and were only meant to be temporary stops in our journey to find The One. Instead of seeing that neither of us was right for the other, we tried to force it. And then she was too afraid of telling me she didn’t love me, anymore, and really . . .” He rolled his eyes at himself. “I was too one-track-minded to have listened. I wasn’t a good listener in those days and probably would have convinced her to still marry me, and then we both would have been miserable, because she still would have loved Antonio and would have been seeing him in secret.” He shifted so he faced her again. “You know, the three of us had dinner while I was there, and it was actually . . .”
“Nice?”
“Yeah. It was nice. I kind of like Antonio.”
She burrowed closer. “You do, huh?”
“Yeah. He’s a good guy. All this time, I’ve blamed him for his part in what happened. But it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just what had to happen to make me see.”
“See what?”
He inched closer. “You.”
She frowned. “Me?”
He nodded. “If I’d ended up with Carol—even if we’d gotten divorced later—my eyes wouldn’t have been open the night I met you. I might have seen you—I mean, who didn’t in that incredible red dress you were wearing?” He brushed her hair out of her eyes then rested his palm against her cheek. “But I wouldn’t have seen you. My eyes would have landed on you for a few seconds. I would have admired the pretty girl in the red dress. And then I would have returned to Carol. I would have missed out on the most wonderful woman in the world, because I would have been blind to reality and the truth.”
“And the truth is . . . ?”
“That I never belonged with Carol. As much as I thought I did, she wasn’t my destiny. You are. Everything that has happened in my life was leading me to you.” He smiled. “And I almost blew it so many times.”
“Just goes to show that when something’s meant to be, it will be, no matter how badly you try to fuck it up.”
He laughed at her choice of words. “And I’m an overachiever when it comes to fucking things up in matters of the heart, aren’t I?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I know it’s true. But not anymore. I think I’ve finally gotten my shit together.”
“Just as long as you don’t get boring. I’d hate it if you became too predictable.”
His eyelids slid halfway closed as a roguish smile curled his lips. “You did hear my previous confessions about the, how should I say, extracurricular sexual activities I fantasize about, right?”
She hid her face against his chest. “Yes.”
“Then I think you already know I have no intention of ever getting boring.”
“Good.” She giggled. “I like being kept on my toes.”
“And what pretty toes they are.”
“I was wondering when we’d get back around to that.”
He brushed his foot against hers, chuckling. “I do love your sexy feet.”
Comfortable intimacy settled over them as they drifted silently with one another for a few seconds.
Then Mark sighed. “I’d marry you next weekend if I could.”
“You can, you know. We could just go to Vegas.”
He shook his head. “No. I want to do this right. The church. The reception. You on your dad’s arm in a dress that takes my breath away.”
“No pressure, of course.”
He grinned. “None at all.” He winked. “Baby, you could wear a burlap sack and be gorgeous.” He grew more serious and searched her face. “But I want the big wedding. The cake, the flowers, the food. All our friends and family there.”
“Okay, so no Vegas.”
“June twenty-ninth gives us plenty of time to pull this off. And it gives your dad enough time to recover so he can walk you down the aisle. But given how he feels about me—that might send him right back to the hospital.”
She shook her head. “Actually, I think my dad might have finally come around.”
“How did you pull that off?”
“We had a long conversation, and I made him see how much we love each other. And then he told me a story about how my mom’s dad didn’t like him at first, either, so I think he sees his story in ours.”
“Wait. You mean your dad went through with your mom’s dad what he’s been putting me through?”
She shrugged and stifled a yawn. “So it would seem.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad he’s finally coming around. I didn’t like the idea that I was getting between the two of you.” He gave her a squeeze. “Come on, we should probably get some sleep. You look exhausted.
He clicked off the light and rolled toward her as she turned onto her side. It was the same dance they did every night when they went to bed. They got settled in then shifted position until he was spooning her, arm slung over her body so that his hand closed over hers.
She felt protected, even in sleep.
“I only have one question,” she said.
“Mmm, what’s that?” His breath warmed the back of her neck and shoulder.
“What exactly did you mean by saying you want to dance again?”
His arms briefly squeezed her as he snuggled closer and kissed her neck. “Trust.”
“Trust?” Of all the possibilities she and Lisa had conjured up, trust hadn’t been one of them.
“Dancing with a partner takes unconditional trust,” he said, his voice quiet. “And, at least for me, dancing is a metaphor for life.”
This actually sounded more ominous than his tender tone suggested. “Are you saying you didn’t trust me?”
He shook his head and squeezed her even harder. “No, baby. I always trusted you. I’ve trusted you since the moment we met.” He paused. “It’s me I didn’t trust.”
“And you do now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so you don’t really want to dance with me then. You know, like dance-dancing.”
He chuckled softly. “Oh, I definitely want to dance with you.” His lips brushed her skin as he spoke. “I want to teach you the rumba and the Argentine tango and so much more.” His body flexed as he burrowed closer under the covers. “And I think I can finally do that now without having a massive panic attack.”
She tipped her head back. “Seriously? The thought of dancing gave you a panic attack before?”
“Dancing, weddings . . .” He uttered a soft, breathy chuckle. “I was fucked up, Karma.”
“But you’re not anymore?”
“No, not anymore. Because of you. You saw what no other woman saw. You loved me in a way no other woman ever has or ever could.” He made a gentle, introspective noise deep in his throat. “For me, dancing is more than just steps. It’s more than just leading a partner through choreography. It’s personal and intimate. A union of souls with music, with trust at its core.” He paused. “After what happened with Carol, I lost that. And it wasn’t just the trust I lost, but the joy dancing gave me, too. And where there’s no joy, there’s no life. And without trust, there is no dancing. Just two people going through the motions.” He softly shook his head, rustling the pillow. “Without that connection, I didn’t want to dance anymore.” He pulled her more snugly against him. “And then you came along and woke me up. Do you realize that the night we met was the first time I’d danced in six years? I never told you that, did I?”
She exhaled a tender gasp. “No.”
“It was.” He nodded and briefly pressed his lips against the back of her shoulder. “I didn’t even realize that until recently. But leading you onto that dance floor that night felt so right.” He kissed her shoulder again then went quiet for several seconds before he pulled back and rolled her so she faced him. He cupped her cheek in his palm, brushing his thumb back and forth. His eyes sparkled in the darkness as he gazed at her face. “So, you see, Karma, you made me want to dance again. You’re the reason why I put that item on my list. Because I wanted to dance with you. In every way imaginable. And not just dance, but live. You’ve made me want to live again. You are my life partner in every way. My heart, my breath, my reason for living. And even if you and I never set foot on a professional dance floor, I still want to dance with you . . . and only you . . . for the rest of my life.”
She stared wordlessly at him. As he’d done so many times before, he’d rendered her speechless. And when there were no words to express how he’d made her feel, all that remained were actions.
She pushed forward and claimed his mouth with her own. As she was his life, he was hers. And as she was his heart, his breath, and his reason for living, he was all those things and more to her.
He rolled to his back, and she slid onto his body.
“I love you.” She pushed her hands under his shirt and curled her fingers against his firm, ribbed abdomen.
“God, I love you, too.” The way he said it as he pushed her hair back from her face sounded like a prayer or a proclamation of gratitude.
Despite exhaustion’s tug on both her body and her emotions, she had to feel him inside her. She needed that vital connection more than ever. To make her feel cherished and safe, reassured that everything was okay.
“Love me,” she whispered against his lips. “Love me now.”
His eyebrows pinched inward as his gaze searched her face. A moment later, he rolled her to her back and situated his hips between her legs. “I’ll do you one better.” He brushed his fingers down the side of her face and stared into her eyes. “I’ll love you forever.”
His lips met hers in a blazing promise as he slammed her hands against the mattress and rolled against her body.
Yes. This was the man she’d missed for the last week. The man she longed for and dreamed about and desired. So full of confidence. So virile. A force of nature who decimated her body in such a pleasant, mind-altering way.
He released her hands, kissing her to within an inch of delirious. Within seconds, he’d stripped her bare.
She tugged at his T-shirt, and he rose to his knees and bent forward so she could yank it over his head as he shoved his flannel pants down his legs and kicked them off.
He snagged a condom from the nightstand and hastily rolled it on.
And then he was on her again, skin against skin, his chest pressed against her breasts, his hips rocking forward and back, sliding his hard cock against her.
His forearms stretched under her armpits toward the headboard, and she felt the mattress bunch up beneath her as if he’d gripped the edge.
Leverage.
A fevered chill raced down her spine as Mark used his hold on the mattress to drag himself more forcefully up her body, making his shoulders and biceps flex and bunch. He was going to fuck her hard tonight. Fast and forceful. Like a man determined to stake his claim.
A hungry growl rumbled in his throat as she reached between them and guided the head of his cock to her entrance. Then she hitched her feet on the insides of his knees and locked her arms around his back. She instinctively knew she needed to hold on tight.
His chest pumped hard against hers, even though he was pressed so firmly against her it was a wonder he could breathe at all. His intense gaze burned into hers, making her belly clench. His mouth hovered barely an inch from hers. The moment stretched as if he were torn. Did he go on staring at her, or did he fuck her brains out?
She panted and rolled her hips, enticing him to do the latter. He was barely an inch inside her, but the pressure was incredible. If only she could shimmy down a bit, she could feel more of him. She squirmed and tilted her pelvis, managing to engulf another inch or two of his shaft.
One side of his mouth lifted in a sexy smirk. “Are we impatient?”
Her body needed his. Heat consumed her core. The muscles in her lower belly were already tight as a drum and ready to let go.
“I want you.” God, she sounded like she was begging.
His smirk deepened, revealing his lone dimple in his right cheek. “How badly do you want me? Hmm?” He ever-so-slightly angled his hips forward, giving her a little bit more as she wriggled beneath him. She didn’t want a little more, she wanted the whole enchilada. All of it. Now.
“Mark . . . please.” She’d gone one step beyond begging, closing in on desperation now.
“Please what?” A tiny bead of sweat rolled down his temple, giving away how much his restraint was taxing him, too.
His body trembled as he tilted his hips even more and slid halfway home.
But Karma wanted him flush against her, pubic bone against pubic bone. And she wanted it now!
“Damn it, Mark. Fuck me. God, please, just fuck me.”
With an animalistic growl, he plunged into her to the hilt, making them both gasp. His eyes popped open wide for a split second as if he’d just felt an explosion inside his body, and then God in Heaven above, he gave her exactly what she’d asked for.
With her breasts mashed against his chest, his hips slapped hard and loud against her flesh in a merciless rhythm. He used the leverage his death grip on the mattress gave him to his advantage, surging ferociously against her, building momentum. Under his breath, he uttered groan-like profanities that sounded more like reverent murmurings of disbelief. As if he’d never felt anything so pleasurable and never wanted it to stop even though he knew it would. And from the way it sounded, the end would come sooner rather than later. This wasn’t the kind of fucking that burned hot and long like a dying star. This was supernova-at-the-moment-of-detonation sex. Blinding, powerful, all-consuming, and void-creating.
Each forward thrust pounded him deep into her body, striking her G-spot with relentless brutality. Her orgasm was already shooting to the surface, her body coiling, her fingernails digging into his back, the desperation rising to a deafening level.
But through the physical and sensual chaos, he never tore his gaze from hers. The last time they’d had sex, he hadn’t looked her in the eye at all. This time, he seemed hell-bent on making up for that.
“Mark . . . oh God, Mark . . .” Her feet were still snared around his knees, and she levered them to the sides, wanting him closer, deeper.
And now he had another weapon in his sexual arsenal.
Digging his knees into the mattress, he pushed forward even as his arms pulled.
She saw stars.
The bed rocked like a tossed rowboat in a hurricane. The headboard thumped against the wall.
And Karma was about to explode.
“Fuck . . . fuck . . . oh, fuck!” Mark’s eyes flared wide as he stared down at her. “Tight . . . ” He gasped and sucked in his breath. “You’re so fucking tight.”
Yeah, because she was about to splinter into a million pieces as the supernova destroyed her body.
Usually, she came first, and she came multiple times. Not today. This time, they were getting there together for one massive, glorious sharing of nirvana. Karma could tell by the way his shoulders tightened and the way the skin around his eyes grew taut that he was on the same course she was. That they were approaching the edge and about to leap together.
“Oh my God, Mark . . don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” Each demand rose in pitch, escalating as her throat tightened.
And just as she crested, crying out and clutching him close, he thrust his hips into her and briefly stilled as a bone-vibrating groan rolled from his throat and into her waiting mouth as she took his lips with hers.
As he continued pumping his hips against her, she swallowed every moan, every gasp, every muttered curse, reveling in her own body’s euphoria.
This was what loving him and being loved by him did. Their emotions fed one another, strengthening both, delivering greater pleasure than either could find alone.
And now he was all hers. From this day forward, she no longer had to share him with anyone. The last remaining door in his heart that led to the past was finally closed and locked.
Let the future begin.