Page 17 of Flexible Standards

“Hold on, Isla. I know you’re close.”

“Yes… Right there… I?—”

I press harder on her clit, making her cry out. She’s not going to last much longer. “Let go for me.”

I suck on her shoulder in a spot that won’t be visible for work as she soaks my cock and the sheets beneath us. Removing her blindfold, I kiss her hard and continue my punishing thrusts until I find my own release, filling her with every last drop.

“Sam,” she whispers against my lips, “that was…“

I pull out and untie the scarves, then take her in my arms, holding her tightly against my chest. “You were perfect, love.”

“How am I supposed to go to work? I can barely move,” she laughs.

“I’ll come by and take you to lunch. If you’re sore, I’ll kiss it better.”

“You just want to fuck me in a library.”

“Of course I do, but I don’t have time to properly take care of you before you have to leave. Are you all right? Do we have time for a quick shower?”

She doesn’t reply, and I know it can be a lot for her when I tie her up. Without another word, I slide off the bed and carry her to the shower. I set her down and pull her close, kissing the top of her head and whispering into her hair, “I love you, angel, so fucking much.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jodi growls.

“It’s nice,” I counter, pointing at the ring in the display.

“Nice? That’s what you’re going to get: nice? This is Isla. She doesn’t deserve nice.” Jodi crosses her arms over her chest. “So help me, if you don’t find something unique and beautiful like her, I’ll propose to her myself.”

“We’ve been looking for months!” My arms fly wide. “Nothing’s perfect.”

Her shoulders fall. “We’ve been over this. You could propose with a ring from a cereal box, and she would say yes. It’s not the ring, it’s the gesture. Do it at the library like you wanted to a week after you met her, and call it a day.”

It’s true. A week after I met Isla, I stopped by the library to take Isla to lunch and decided right then and there that one day she was going to be my wife. It’s taken me a full year to figure out the perfect way to ask her, the perfect ring, the perfect time… and nothing is good enough.

Jodi needs to get to an obstetrician appointment, so I’m left to fend for myself. Unable to find anything worthy of my soon-to-be-fiancée, I leave as well, and head to the library to take Isla to lunch.

The entire drive, I have a knot in my stomach, pissed at myself for not finding what I was looking for at the store today. My frustration must be plastered on my face when I walk into the library because Isla asks, “Who died in your book today?”

I take her in my arms and kiss her temple. “No one died, I just didn’t find it.”

“Find what?” Isla pulls back to look at me.

“Nothing,” I sigh, though it comes out more like a growl.

“Sam,” she warns. “What’s wrong?”

Fuck it.

I’ve waited too long for the right moment, the right ring, the right place. I take her hand and lead her to a quiet space in the nonfiction section of the library that no one frequents. The moment we’re out of sight and earshot of everyone, I press her against the shelves and kiss her roughly as if I haven’t tasted her in weeks—even though I made love to her this morning.

“Sam, wait. What’s?—”

“When was the last time you let someone love you?” I mutter against her lips.

Her hands cupping my face, she pulls back an inch and smiles wide. “You, this morning.”

“Then, will you marry me?”

“Are you serious?” she asks hopefully, and I kiss her again.

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