Page 133 of Return To You

“What?” I screech. And also: home. He said home. “When?”

forty-two

Ethan

Maybe I should have told her I was on my way from the airport, but I didn’t want her to get all crazy about fixing her hair or running to the store or whatever else she would have thought was necessary. Now I’m kind of rethinking that—too late—because it feels like I just lied to her.

Truth is, I want to see her reaction when I ring the doorbell.

But shit—I should have killed the engine to keep this a surprise. The door swings open as I pull up to her house. She’s in my jersey, nothing else that I can see, and she’s running to me barefoot on her gravel driveway.

I swing off the bike and catch her flinging herself at me. “Ethan, oh Ethan—you’re back!”

I lift her to me so she’s off the harsh ground, so she’s entirely in my arms, so she can wrap herself around me, so her eyes are almost level with mine, and her mouth caresses my lips.

She cups my face softly in both her hands. Her gaze roams my features, as if she’s checking if I’m alright. For a beat that feels like an eternity, we just look at each other, our heartbeats echoing into each other’s chests, our eyes saying things we both understand. I missed you so much. I never want to be away from you again.

But this is our life, now.

I run one hand down her back and confirm my suspicion. She’s butt naked. Fuck. Reading me, she kisses me hard as I carry us inside the house, her taste of chocolate lingering on my tongue.

I kick the front door closed, carry us to the bedroom, remember to close that door as well, due to Damian.

Grace tears my windbreaker off while I fumble us to the bed, then pulls my T-shirt over my head, trailing her hands down my torso to my abs and below. “I missed you,” she says, unhooking my belt.

I run a hand over her naked thighs, “You missed me… or my cock?”

She smiles deviously. “Okay, you win. I missed your cock.”

But her eyes are on mine and nowhere else, searching my soul, her lips tentative when they meet mine again as she pulls herself up to kiss me. Her eyelashes flutter closed as she wraps herself around me again.

God, but I missed her. Missed her warmth and her surrender, missed how she gives herself entirely to me, missed how she makes me feel whole again.

She runs her hand in my hair, down my nape, her breathing uncertain, her legs tighter around me. “Take me,” she says. “Take me like I’m yours.”

I rear my head back. “You are mine.”

“Always were,” she whispers and my throat tightens at her words. Thank god my dick is not the emotional kind because my woman wants me to take her, and I’m not sure she’d be too pleased if I went limp right now. But that’s how moved I am. I don’t care whether I fuck her brains out right this minute or not. I just want to hold her and make the world right for her.

But then she adds, “Always will be… yours.”

And Jesus Fucking Christ. My brain shuts down, and my whole body takes over. I make quick work of the rest of my clothes. As I enter her, her whimpers drive me wilder and wilder. The headboard bangs against the wall, her nails dig into my back, her perfect little pussy sucks me in. “S-sorry, I’m coming,” she whispers as she clenches around me.

I lean down to suck her nipple, and she cries out, her features beautifully transformed, her eyes rolling back as she cries out my name. “Ethan, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Fuck. I did this. She’s so beautiful, I hold it, focusing on staying hard for her, on putting her first, on giving her whatever she needs, even if there’s nothing more I want right now than to come inside her.

As she comes down from her orgasm, she repeats, “I love you, love you so much,” holding my head to hers, caressing my back, kissing my face.

I watch with utter awe, too stricken to say anything back. The power of Grace’s love unlocks something deep inside me.

She settles in the bed, eyes closed, a small tear pearling at the corner of her eye. Still maddeningly hard, I slowly get out of her. “What’s wrong, babe?”

Her eyes softly open on me. “I’m so happy.” A small smile forms on her face.

I wipe the back of my hand where the tear is hesitating to fall. “You’re crying.”

She shakes her head. “Tears of joy.”

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