Page 48 of Forever His Favorite
“All these years…” he murmured, his voice low and husky, “every night I had to stay away from you… now you’ll make up for those nights. Every night, you’ll be in my arms, letting me sleep with me inside you. Only this way can you ever repay me for making me wait so long for you.”
Emily froze, doing the math in her head. They had met when she was very young—maybe eight or nine. If he meant every night since… was he talking about more than ten years? She recoiled, eyes wide, and slapped his arm. “All you think about is sex!”
He smirked, that dark, confident grin stretching across his face. “No,” he corrected, voice teasing and low. “All I think about is sex withyou.”
The very next moment, his strong hands scooped her up and threw her onto the couch. He followed immediately, straddling her, pinning her gently yet possessively as their eyes locked in a heated stare.
***
Lucas stood in his home, eyes fixed on a beautiful white gown hanging elegantly on a stand. A slow, almost dreamy smile spread across his face as he traced the delicate fabric with his gaze. The lace shimmered under the soft light, each fold and ruffle reminding him of the woman he loved.
Dillon stepped quietly into the room, approaching him.
Lucas glanced at him casually, though his eyes sparkled with excitement. “What do you think of this dress?” he asked, his voice soft but excited. “Didn’t Emily always say she wanted a wedding dress just like this? Do you think she’ll like it?”
Dillon hesitated, his face tight with unease. He barely looked at the gown and answered, “Mr. Cantrell, I’m sure Miss Crawford will love it very much.”
Lucas turned back to the dress, eyes bright, as if imagining Emily walking toward him in it. “I want a street lined with flowers, every single step leading to the entrance. Emily loves flowers. I don’t care about the cost.”
Dillon swallowed, clearly uneasy. “Mr. Cantrell… are you going to propose to Miss Crawford?”
Lucas lifted a hand to his mouth, a contemplative smile playing on his lips. Then he nodded. “Yes.”
Just then, Taylor strode into the house, entering the living room. His eyes fell on Lucas—and then the dress. He froze, taking a step closer, confusion and concern flashing in his eyes. “Why do you have a wedding dress?”
Lucas slid a hand into his pocket, a calm confidence in his smile. “Come here, look at this dress. Do you think Emily will like it? I had it made exactly like she always dreamed about.”
Taylor’s face tightened, disbelief written across every line. “Lucas… you want to propose to Emily?”
Lucas waved his hand dismissively. “Yes. She’ll get a divorce. Then we’ll get married.”
Taylor shook his head, frustrated. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to see if she even agrees first?”
Lucas lifted his chin, determined. “She’s just angry with me. She’ll come around. I’ll pacify her.”
Taylor’s expression shifted as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Look at this,” he said, handing it to Lucas. “This is Mrs.Graves—Sebastian’s mother. Look at this photo: Sebastian, his mother, and Emily together. Does it look like they don’t accept her?”
Lucas snatched the phone, his eyes narrowing at the image. Heat flared in his chest, spreading into a white-hot fury that made his hands tremble.
He slammed the phone onto the counter, the screen cracking slightly under the force. “She’s not going to marry anyone else,” he hissed through gritted teeth. His jaw clenched so tight it ached, and his fists curled at his sides. “She’s lying… just to make me jealous. I told you—I’ll pacify her!”
He paced back and forth, each step sharp and heavy. His mind raced, a storm of jealousy and rage blinding him. His gaze darted to the door, and without another thought, he stormed forward and flung it open.
He directly strode toward his car standing outside. His movements were quick, impulsive, each one fueled by raw emotion. He yanked open the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, hands shaking slightly as he gripped the wheel.
Dillon and Taylor watched, worried, as Lucas stormed out of the house. Dillon’s heart sank. “Mr. Cantrell is going to do something bad,” he muttered.
Taylor’s jaw clenched, tension and anger flashing in his eyes. By the time they rushed outside, Lucas’s sleek black car had already peeled off, tires screeching against the pavement.
“Damn it!” Taylor barked, slamming his fist against the wall.
Dillon’s eyes tracked Lucas’s car down the street. “We can use that car!” he shouted.
Without wasting a second, Taylor and Dillon sprinted down the street on foot. They reached the car, yanked the doors open, and dove inside, slamming them shut. Engines roared to life, tires screeching, as they sped off in hot pursuit.
Just as Lucas reached the grand entrance of Sebastian’s mansion, he slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. He yanked the door open and stormed toward the gates. Dillon and Taylor skidded to a stop just behind him, leaping out of their car.
They rushed toward him, urgency in every step. Just before Lucas could slam his fist on the gates of the mansion for the guards to open them, Taylor grabbed him by the shoulder, halting his steps.
