Page 56 of Castaway Whirlwind
“Is that your way of proposing to me?”
“Yes. I’ve already asked you to marry me a million times in my head. This is just the first time you’ve heard it.” When she wraps her arms around my neck, nuzzling her nose against mine with a wobbly smile, I ask, “Is that your way of saying yes?”
“Yes,” Layla whispers, her lips brushing mine. And thenshe thrusts her tongue into my mouth, holding me closer, finding new strength to jerk her hips faster. She moans when I twist my wrist awkwardly so I can press my index and middle finger against her clit, increasing the pressure. “I’m so close, Daddy.”
“Oh, thank god. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out with your little pussy so hot and wet.”
“Just a little more. A little—there, right there. I—” Layla gasps, her pussy clenching around my cock head, forcing my cum out of me when she orgasms. She whimpers as I continue rolling her clit to draw out her pleasure until she forces me to stop by pushing my hand away.
Layla and I are breathing hard when I lay back with her on my chest, my cock snug in her pussy. Her voice is raspy when she says, “Oh my god, Russell, that was intense. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.”
“Sure, you will. It just takes practice.” She props her head up with her chin on my sternum. “Lots and lots of practice,” I say with a toothy grin, which makes her giggle. It’s a sweet little sound but as sexy as when she moans my name.
“Let me guess. You’re more than happy to help me practice, huh?”
I push her hair back behind her ears, then manage to finagle the comforter over our rapidly cooling skin. “Theonlyone allowed to help you practice.”
“Agreed.”
Chapter 18
Layla
Friday evening, after my shift at the diner, I toe off my sneakers and marvel once again at my huge oval diamond engagement ring with a smaller stone on each side as I set my recently upgraded leather tote bag on the kitchen table—another gift with a matching smaller purse from Russell that I didn’t need but instantly loved and started using anyway. The private jeweler who met with us last night, four days after Russell proposed, tried to talk me into a larger center diamond or a band with more stones, but three is what I wanted—one for each year I’ve known Russell. It wasn’t lost on me that Russell insisted on talking price with the jeweler privately, excluding me from the conversation, knowing I would balk at any price tag.
Cora sighs heavily as she cradles Gauge in one arm while blotting at the spit-up on her oversized pink T-shirt with the other. When I glance up after taking two bottles of water from the refrigerator, I find her staring at my hand, and she sighs again.
For the first time in years, I’m getting a solid eight hours ofthe best sleep of my life every night now that I’m sharing a bed with Russell, but Cora still hasn’t gotten more than an hour or two uninterrupted other than when I volunteer to babysit.
I raise a brow, finishing half of my water. “What’s up?”
“If I had a rock like that and was living in a house like this, I’d burn that dress and say good riddance.” She nods to my diner uniform with pursed lips.
“I’m not going to quit working just because I’m engaged.”
Russell’s hand comes to rest on my lower back, having walked in a few minutes after me. “You could if you wanted to—quit and finish your degree.”
I lean into the kiss he places on my temple, handing him the second bottle of water. “As tempting as that is, you know the answer is no,” I say mildly sarcastically, considering it would be a dream come true if it wouldn’t lead to feeling guilty for accepting his offer.
Cora rolls her eyes while shifting Gauge to her shoulder to burp him again. “You have no idea how good you’ve got it.”
“Yes,” I say in a low, firm voice, “I do.” Where Steven’s ring was a shackle to an exhausting, miserable existence ofbackbreaking work, as Russell put it, Russell’s ring is a promise of a beautiful life with a man who loves me, almost obsessively so.
Russell tickles Gauge’s cheek after he moves around me. “Hey there, little bub.” He winks when he catches me smiling dreamily at him. “Think he’s in the running to be my favorite nephew.”
I laugh because Gauge is my only niece or nephew, and I love that Russell already considers him family. “Elliott never wanted children?”
“Sure, he did.” When Russell doesn’t follow that up, his eyescast down at Gauge, I figure there’s a lot more to the story he’s not saying, but I won’t pry in front of Cora.
Max’s bootsteps boom loudly as he crosses the living room from the side door that leads to the driveway. He grabs a soda from the refrigerator and closes the door harder than necessary. “Is that what you would do if we got married?” he asks Cora tersely, popping the tab and leaning against the counter. “Quit and expect me to continue doing everything for you?”
Unease slithers down my spine, and Russell pulls me away with his arm around my waist. “You’ll make plenty enough for y’all to get by on just your income. I would know since I’ll be signing your paychecks.”
The morning after we came back to the house, Russell asked Max how long they were planning to stay in town after, apparently, having been evicted from their apartment when they fell behind on rent—not sure—then what Max was planning to do for work—don’t know. Russell announced Max would work for him at the warehouse, starting the next day. When Max wanted to argue, Russell weaponized the very thing our dad drilled into both of our heads—working hard so as not to take advantage of other people’s hard work, and Max wouldn’t want to do that by living in our house for free, now would he?
“We shouldn’t have to live on one income,” Max says, draining his soda and leaving the empty can on the counter instead of dropping it in the built-in recycling bin beneath the sink less than a foot away. He pinches his lips before saying to Cora, “You haven’t even started looking for a job.”
Another thing that’s changed in under a week, other than Max’s quick one-eighty from the charming man who showedup on my doorstep? Finding it easier to speak up, especially with Russell lending me his strength at my back. “She just had a baby. She shouldn’t have to go back to work yet.”
