At Any Moment (Gaming The System Book 3) Page 32

  He froze and our gazes held for endless minutes. I was sure he could see the fear, the uncertainty in mine. I saw the determined passion in his. Slowly, gently, he slipped his hand out from under mine, took my wrist and pulled my hand away from where I had stopped him. I didn’t resist as he brought my hand down to my side, slipping it under my hips and pinning it there so I wouldn’t be tempted to use it again to stop him.

  My heartbeat was icy in my throat as his hand returned to what it had been doing. His other hand, as a precaution, gripped my free hand inside of it. All I could do was stare into those dark eyes, my breath coming faster as he succeeded in slipping the straps over my left arm. He pulled that side of my bra down and I was completely exposed to him. Hot shame bathed my face but Adam still hadn’t looked there. He was still studying my face, pinning my eyes with his dark ones. Then he shifted so that his leg pinned mine down and with another tug on the other half of my bra, I was naked from the waist up.

  Then he lowered his eyes and looked at me, and part of me wanted to curl up and die. Despite having gained back a bit of the weight I’d lost during chemo, I was still too thin. My breasts, as a result, were smaller than before and the left one was still maimed and ugly, the angry red scars jagging over the skin, black dots tattooed across it. Slowly, as if afraid I might bolt even though I was pinned down, he raised his hand and with a butterfly-light touch, he traced his fingers over the raised scar. I shivered under him.

  He shushed me, looking into my eyes again though I avoided his gaze. “Emilia. Look at me.” And I did. And there was sincerity, admiration in his eyes. “You are beautiful. And these,” he said, tracing the scars again with more pressure than before, “are your strength.”

  I blinked, my eyes stinging. I wanted him to touch me again. And he did. My breath shivered in my chest. He palmed my scarred breast, running a progressively firmer touch over it until my nipple puckered to a point, erect and begging for his attention. He lowered his mouth and kissed it ever so lightly.

  I gasped and arched my back to meet him. He kissed it again, a light peck. And again, a little harder. Then his mouth opened and his tongue tasted, ever so slightly. And again, his tongue ran over and around my nipple until I was burning and writhing underneath him, unable to get enough of the feel of his mouth. He suckled and pulled, tasting and tugging until a small sob escaped the back of my throat. The first time his teeth touched my nipple, I jumped as if jolted with electricity. My hand, which had been wedged underneath me, pulled free and came up to weave my fingers in his thick hair, holding him to my attention-starved breast.

  He turned and, while thumbing my once-injured breast, put his mouth to the task of similarly treating my healthy one. Time stretched out—maybe a half hour or more, I wasn’t keeping track—he did nothing but lavish my chest with his careful, passionate attention. And I was stunned to realize how close I was to climax just from what he was doing to my breasts.

  He noticed too. His hand slipped from my breast, across my stomach and into my underwear. His mouth was still doing indescribably wonderful things to my breast as his fingers found the swollen bundle of nerves and rubbed against it in gentle circles. I closed my eyes and arched to him, my entire being inflamed with his touch. I was so close…

  He removed his head from my breast and pulled back. He pulled my hands out of his hair with his one free hand. “Touch them,” he whispered, those glowing eyes holding mine captive. I hesitated and he stopped rubbing against my clitoris. I almost whimpered with the loss. “I want to watch you touch them. I want you to know what I already know—how hot, how beautiful your body is.”

  I trembled under him as I slowly put my own fingertips to my erect nipples, tugging at them lightly, crying out as his hand started moving across my sex again.

  “You are so beautiful,” he repeated over and over again as he watched me finger my own nipples. I closed my eyes tight and gasped as he brought me to the edge, slowed and stopped again. I almost screamed in frustration.

  “Open your eyes.”

  And I did.

  Our eyes locked and his weren’t mirrors, or doors, but corridors, leading deep inside. I gasped and he kissed my lips, circled his hand over my sex. I pinched my own nipples and then arched my back as everything tightened inside of me.

  He watched as he took me up and over the edge. I screamed his name and he gasped against my mouth, his lips pulling gently at mine. It had been a long time since I’d had an orgasm that pleasurable, that intense. My eyes rolled back as I continued to convulse with pleasure, continued to raggedly call his name. His hands tightened on me and I felt as if those ripples of ecstasy would go on forever.

  I came down from that, my body burning and trembling with the intensity of my climax, but he didn’t stop. “I’m going to make you come again,” he uttered fiercely, his mouth now against my neck.

  But I pulled myself away from him, tried to close my legs. “I want you inside me when I come again.”

  I thought he might object to that, but he didn’t. He pulled his hand out of my underwear and quickly pulled my dress, bra and underwear off of me. I was no longer self-conscious about being naked in front of him and was anxious to see him naked, too. I unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled off his undershirt while he unzipped his trousers. Soon he was only in his tented boxer briefs. Before pulling them off, he reached into the pocket of his discarded pants and extracted a foil-wrapped condom.

  He pulled off his underwear and rolled me onto my back. I could tell by the strained rigidity of his handsome features that he wasn’t playing around anymore.

  I swallowed as he slowly parted my legs, settling between them before rearing up to slide the condom on with one hand. I sat up on my elbows and watched him, though it only took seconds. He was well practiced at it, it seemed.

  I hoped he wouldn’t cut this short, like the other times. Would we stop now? Would that same fear come back?

  I held my breath as if somehow breathing would break the spell of the moment. My eyes met his ferocious gaze and he lay back down against me, pushing me gently off my elbows so I was flat underneath him. His body hovered over mine, burning me with his heat. His erection pressed against me as he kissed me again—his tongue and lips and teeth claiming my mouth, forcing it open under him and owning every inch of it. Hardly time for a breath before he was nudging his cock against me, pushing his way inside.

  He gave a more insistent push of his hips until our pelvises rested flush against each other. I gasped at the familiar, wonderful feeling of him filling me up. I took a deep breath and he pulled his mouth away from mine to look into my eyes, his breath heavy, his eyes drunk with desire. “I almost forgot how fucking good you feel,” he muttered hoarsely. Pressing his damp forehead against mine, he twitched his hips, sliding out of me before pushing home again. I moaned.

  “I never forgot how fucking good you feel,” I murmured. “I’ve wanted you inside of me every day for months.”

  He gasped but he never broke the rhythm. I wondered, briefly, if sex with the condom wouldn’t feel as pleasurable for him as it had before but my mind did not linger on that long because it was more than clear that he was enjoying himself. Soon he was reared up on his arms, my long legs draped over his shoulders, his eyes half closed, on his own way to ecstasy as he pushed relentlessly inside of me and then pulled out again in a sharp, short rhythm.

  He stopped again, pulling me up against him and leaning back so that we were both sitting up. He laid my thighs over his and we faced each other. He entered me again with a hoarse groan. As we moved against each other, the strong arms pinned my chest against his and he kissed my face—my forehead, my temples, my cheeks, everywhere. Then his mouth was on my mouth, his tongue darting in and out with the same timed, relentless rhythm of our bodies moving against each other.

  And my whole existence, for those moments, became Adam. Adam’s smell, Adam’s sweat mingling with mine, Adam’s hot breath on my skin, Adam’s body moving against me, Adam
’s hands gripping me, Adam’s tongue in my mouth. Adam’s cock sliding inside of me, claiming me. Yes. I was forever his.

  His breathing grew more ragged as, his hands fixed to my hips, he dragged my pelvis over his, faster and faster until once again I was coming, my world shattering around me, my whole body convulsing. I threw my head back, shouting in ecstasy, but he didn’t stop, sliding me over him again and again until, with one last deep push he stiffened against me, holding me still. And I felt his orgasm pulse through me as if I was coming again. He shuddered, pressed his forehead to mine, holding his breath, we froze in time—one body, one soul.

  With a gasp, he fell back against the mattress, staring up at me with sated eyes.

  In that moment, our bodies still joined, my hands splayed across his cut, damp chest, I felt powerful, feminine, sexy. The most desired woman in the world. Adam had done that. And soon the tears were up and over their usual careful barriers, spilling out from my lower lids and down my cheeks.

  He frowned, his dark brows furrowing. He reached up, traced a thumb down the path of my tears. “What’s wrong, sweet Mia?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak, I leaned down and kissed his check, his neck, laid my cheek against his shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just happy. So, so happy.”

  His arms tightened around me and we lay like that, saying nothing, just enjoying each other, our naked bodies pressed to each other.

  I wished we could just spend the rest of our lives like this. Never feeling anything but this protective bubble of love around us to keep life’s sadness and hurt at bay.

  “This feels so good. I could lay like this for a week,” he murmured, his words paralleling my thoughts.

  “I could be your blanket,” I said.

  “That sounds perfect. I could be yours, sometimes, too.”

  “Mmm. Do you think that people will bring us food if we call them and tell them to?”

  He brushed his fingers along my damp back, tracing my spine. He turned his head and put his nose in my hair, inhaling. “You are one amazing, intoxicating woman, Emilia Strong.”

  “You are one heart-stoppingly wonderful man, Adam Drake. And you keep me up all night, either with mind-blowing sex or your damn game.”

  “What?” he said, surprised.

  “After I went through your program on the flash drive, I figured out how to solve the quest.”

  His hand on my back stilled. “You solved it?”

  I looked up at him and he was smiling. “Yes…the princess was bound by her own despair. And her allies had to use their love to help her set herself free. And then the princess gave me some advice. She told me to go out and find my true love because he was waiting for me.”

  Adam laced his fingers around mine. “Well, the princess was right, then, wasn’t she? Your true love has been waiting for you all his life. And he sure is glad you’ve finally made it.”

  I sobered for a minute, then angled my head to look up into his face. “Adam…are we going to be okay? I mean it’s been months and we couldn’t talk to each other and I know we’ve learned a lot about ourselves but…what about us as a couple?”

  His hand tightened around mine. “Well, we have learned a lot in the past couple months, but I think the biggest thing I’ve learned, anyway, is that this is a work in progress—that we keep working on it and we don’t let things build up and fester. That we can’t be afraid to talk about it.”

  “And we don’t give up…even when things look impossible.”

  He let out a long breath. “Well, this certainly felt impossible not too long ago. And I’m sure it won’t be easy. But it sure as hell is worth it.”

  We dressed and had a late dinner at the Beachcomber restaurant, set right in the inlet amongst the cottages and illuminated with tiny white lights. We were like new lovebirds, holding hands over the table while we talked about trivial stuff. Adam filled me in on the goings-on among our mutual friends while I’d been up in Anza. He did most of the talking. I listened, nodded and kept my new little exciting secret to myself for the few minutes longer that I could.

  After coffee, I mentioned that I’d like to go for a moonlit walk along the beach, and I thought I’d have to be more persuasive but he actually brightened. After paying the check, we walked out to where the waves were breaking against the shore, where the sand was packed tighter now that the tide was low and an almost full silvery moon hung overhead, casting an otherworldly glow over the sand and water.

  When we got as far as the tide pools—not far from the spot where our relatives had married each other earlier that day, he turned to me. “We still have a lot to talk about, you know. I didn’t want to be the downer to bring all that up, but…”

  I stopped, nodding. “I know. I agree.” He pulled me into a hug and I kissed his cheek. “But first I have something to ask you.”

  “Sure. Go ahead,” he said.

  “Well, it has to do with…respawns.”

  “Huh?”

  I cleared my throat. “A do-over. My do-over.”

  He still clearly did not understand. “Umm.”

  And, gathering my courage, I swallowed my fear, took both of his hands inside mine and sank down on the sand in front of him.

  He laughed for a moment, not understanding, and then his laughter died out when I looked up into his eyes and, squeezing his hands, I asked, “Adam Drake…I love you more than anything. Let me be by your side until the very end, whenever that may be. Will you make me your wife?”

  He froze, his features sobering. I held my breath. I couldn’t tell what was going on in his mind. And I guess that was what this question was all about. I trembled, cold fear seizing me, frightened beyond all thought that his answer would be no.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Adam

  Emilia had pressed something into my hand. I tore my eyes away from hers to open it and look inside. In the dim moonlight, it shone like a tiny star itself and without getting a really close look at it, I knew exactly what it was. I’d tried to slip a ring like this on her finger last fall.

  My jaw tightened. “Stand up, Emilia.”

  She didn’t stay anything, but her eyes skittered away from mine, her features clouding. I tugged on her arms and with a frown she slowly got to her feet, squaring her shoulders. We stood face to face and I stared into her beautiful brown eyes. She was biting her lip, convinced that I’d rejected her.

  “Why are you doing this? Why are you thinking of marriage now?”

  Her brows drew together. “Because I know what I want and I don’t want to wait and if I’ve learned anything this year it’s that I’m not going to defer my own happiness.”

  I nodded, relieved that she wasn’t doing this out of a sense of obligation to make things up to me for last year. I took the ring out of the palm of my hand took her left hand in mine and then I dropped to my knee. She gasped and I had to hold on to her hand or she would have pulled it away in shock.

  “No, keep it there,” I said, finding the correct finger, I slipped the ring on, pushing it past her knuckle. It was a perfect fit. It was, indeed, the exact same ring that I’d bought for her. She’d told me she’d sold it but here it was, shining at me from the third finger on her left hand.

  “Emilia Kimberly Strong, will you do me the honor of allowing me to become your husband?”

  She stood absolutely still and I realized I’d been too scared to look into her face as I asked it. And, God, wouldn’t it just be extra humiliating to have done this twice and get the same silence for an answer both times?

  I raised my eyes to hers and saw that she was crying, shining tears trailing down her cheeks. She sank onto the sand before me and we were now at eye level. I wiped her tears away with my hand and she smiled, watching me. “I’ve never been more sure of anything before, ever. I love you. One thing I’ve learned in this last year is that this life can really be tough. It can throw such utter shit at a person. It can take you for an utter fool. And I’ve tried to be strong but the
thing I’ve learned above all else is that I can’t do this alone. And I can’t do it with anyone else…but you…Please…”

  But I only laughed at her. “I asked you, silly. But I’ll take that as a yes?”

  She laughed and pressed her forehead to mine. “Yes. That’s a big, big yes.”

  I pulled her into my arms and kissed her, holding her tight against me. Her heart thrummed against my chest and her arms locked around my neck. A surge of love washed over me and though she had instigated this, I was completely certain that she was my future. I wanted this amazing, strong, beautiful woman beside me for the rest of my life.

  When our lips parted, I took her left hand in mine again, turning it over I looked at the ring. “I thought you said you sold it off to pay for your medical bills.”

  She nodded. “I pawned it. Fortunately it was still at the shop last week when I bought it back.”

  I raised my brows and looked at her. “This is probably an indelicate question but—”

  She straightened. “I sold the blog, Adam. That’s how I got the money.”

  I frowned, unable to find the words. I was more irked about her selling the blog than about her having sold the ring in the first place.

  She saw. She laid a hand on my cheek. “Please don’t be mad. It’s something I had to do. I put a lot of myself in that blog and Girl Geek will always be a part of me…but there was a point where I wouldn’t have been able to continue a lot of the features. You and I being together meant that there would have been a lot of conflict of interest on what I wrote about. I would have had to change the angle of what I was doing anyway, so…I saw selling the blog as a way of making that final, ultimate commitment to growing up and leaving my old life behind.”

  “I would never have asked for you to do that.”

  She nodded. “I know. I asked it of myself. It’s something I needed to do. Plus, with medical school, I wasn’t going to have the time I used to before.”

  That was the other big question hanging between us, so I was glad she brought it up. “So you’ve come to a decision about medical school?” Relief washed over me. “I’m so glad you are going to go. My realtor found some wonderful properties in Maryland—”