Page 130 of Charlie

"I'm going to carve a statue of you, mo chridhe. And then I'm going to put a little plaque at the bottom," Jack says, his lips moving against my hair, his cock still pulsing inside me.

"And what will that plaque say?" I ask, sliding my tongue over the pulse in his neck.

"Charlotte. The Patron Saint of Hard Cocks," he chuckles, framing my face with his hands and pulling my mouth to his.

"Will you pray to me?" I ask, smiling against his lips.

"Oh, I'll do more than pray to you," he growls, rolling me underneath him and thrusting into me. He looks down at me, a look in his eyes that I can't place.

"What?" I whisper, losing myself in his gaze, his hair curtaining us from the outside world.

"You're right," he sighs, kissing me before pulling out and climbing out of bed.

"About what?" I ask, propping myself up with my elbow.

"It isn't even that I don't want to give this up. I can't." He pushes his hands through his hair, secures it on top of his head, and then holds his hands out to me. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, but instead of helping me jump down, he pushes my thighs apart and steps between them, cradling my body to his, his lips pressed just below my ear. "It wouldn't be a life worth living if I didn't have mornings like this to look forward to, Charlotte."

Thank fuck. I squeeze him tight, reluctantly loosening my grip as he pulls back to look at me. "Let's get through this weekend and then we'll all sit down and hash it out." He pulls at my left arm until I release him and brings my hand up to his chest, his lips pulling into a smile when he sees his ring on my finger. "It suits you," he murmurs. "Cam didn't propose to you?" he asks, his brows drawing together when he realizes there are only two rings on my finger.

"No," I say, clamping my lips together before I tell him about Cam's ring.

Jack doesn't say anything else, only wraps me in a fresh robe and leads the way to the kitchen. He insists I relax as he fries eggs and bacon, serving it on one plate with two forks. He cuts off a bite and holds it to my lips, watching me intently as I lick yolk from the corner of my mouth.

"I thought it would be nice for all of us to eat dinner together tonight," he says, clearing his throat before scooping up a bite for himself.

"I'd like that," I murmur, looking forward to the four of us being together again.

"I'll drive you home so you can pack, then we can all meet up around five to start cooking dinner. Then early to bed."

"You're a bossy SOB sometimes," I laugh, a thrill racing down my spine when his eyes darken.

"Trust me, Charlotte, you'll be begging for sleep by the time the three of us finish with you."

"I fucking hope so," I rasp, my body thrumming with anticipation.

72

I'm in the process of pulling a sweater over my head when I hear a knock at the door. Isla doesn't wait for me to answer before she explodes through the door, a waterfall of copper hair flowing down her back in loose waves.

"I can't stay," she says, giving me a quick hug. "I just wanted to drop the ring off and wish you luck before you leave." Isla sets a small ring box on the coffee table and pulls me into a tight hug. "I hope tomorrow is everything you want it to be," she says, shoving a bag into my hand while giving me an exaggerated wink. "See you in a couple of days!" she calls as she heads out the door.

"Thank you!" I yell at her back as she jogs up the path. I shove my shoulder against the door to get it closed and peek in the bag. I whistle as I pull out the tiniest piece of lingerie I have ever seen. That will be interesting to try to wrangle myself into. I set the bag on the table and pick up the ring box, doing a little jig when I see how perfect it is. I slip it on my thumb for safekeeping and check my phone, only to realize that I'm running late for dinner.

Lach is waiting for me at the top of the path, his hair ruffling in the wind. "How was your night?" he asks as he catches me in his arms, spinning me around before pressing his lips tenderly to mine.

"Perfect," I say, my lips pulling into a grin despite myself.

"Good," he murmurs, deepening the kiss, his tongue tangling against mine. He fists my hair in one hand, pulling my head to the side to give him access to my neck. He licks and bites his way to my collarbone, cupping my breast in his palm and rolling my nipple between his fingers. The ring of a cell phone startles us, and Lach pulls it out of his pocket with a guilty grin.

He doesn't say hello, just, "We'll be there in a second," before hanging up and pulling my body back to his.

"Can I ask you something?" I say when he breaks away from me with a groan.

"Anything," he smiles, helping me into the car and then squatting, so we're eye to eye.

I twist Cam's ring nervously around my thumb, my heart in my throat. "Do you think I'm ridiculous even to consider proposing to Cam?"

A goofy grin stretches his cheeks. "No, I don't think it's ridiculous at all."

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