Forever Yours Read online

  Chapter Eleven

  Three dates. Three perfect dates. And John hadn’t so much as kissed Meg goodnight. While she appreciated him taking it slow and being a gentleman and all that, she was officially starting to feel slighted. Never before had a man gone three dates without at least giving her a peck on the cheek when he dropped her off.

  Tonight she was going to get a peck. She was determined. She had invited him to her place for dinner and a movie. But this would be dinner and a movie Meg and John style. While it was great to eat out at fancy restaurants, they had always been more about pizza and beer than surf and turf. She wanted this night to be about them, not about him trying to impress or woo her. She didn’t need wooed. She was more than aware of what John had to offer.

  The pizza had been ordered, the beer was in the fridge, and she had rented several really terrible disaster movies. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, a far cry from the dresses and heels he’d seen her in the last few times. While she didn’t feel quite as sexy, she felt much more like herself, and when she opened the door at the sound of his knock, she was happy to see him in jeans as well.

  She took a plastic bag from his hand as he stepped into her apartment. “What’s this?”

  “Junk food.”

  “Something chocolate, I hope.”

  “You know it.”

  “Perfect.” She carried the bag to kitchen. “Pizza’s on the way. You want a beer?”

  “Please.” He sank onto the sofa.

  She handed him a bottle as she reached for the DVDs. “Massive destruction by volcano or tornadoes?”

  “Volcano.”

  “Sweet!” When there was a knock at the door, she glanced back to find he was already rising. While she started the movie, he paid for the pizza, and then they settled on the sofa.

  They were about halfway through the first movie when John got up and refreshed their drinks. Meg grinned when he sat closer to her upon his return—close enough that she could feel his heat. She sat still for a few minutes and then shifted her feet under her, giving her the excuse to lean a bit closer to him. He readjusted next, and when she squirmed again, she didn’t stop until she was against his side. His arm fell causally around her and her hand dropped to his knee.

  He pulled her closer and her heart flipped in her chest. His cheek pressed to her head and she closed her eyes as her entire body reacted to the tickle of his breath flowing over her neck. Her attempt at seducing a kiss goodnight from him suddenly didn’t seem like enough.

  Stop stalling, the voice in her head said for the millionth time. You know where this is going.

  “John,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “If you leave me again, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “I know.”

  Turning her head, she caught his mouth with hers. She may have intended something soft and sweet, but as soon as they made contact, everything she’d been holding back poured out of her. She shifted her body, draped her leg over his, and tangled her fingers in his hair. Her tongue pushed into his open mouth. His arms went around her and pulled her onto him so she was straddling his lap. She tugged at his shirt while he tugged at hers until they separated long enough to discard their clothing, and then his lips were on her neck.

  She moaned his name, fisted his hair, and encouraged him to move lower. He slipped her bra straps off her shoulders and flicked his tongue over one of her nipples as she ground her groin to his. A sound left him, somewhere between a growl and a moan, that made her want to scream. Hell, she may have, because he stood up and eased her onto her bed before she even registered that he was carrying her through the apartment.

  She moaned a protest when he leaned back, but he was only gone long enough to push his pants down and help her remove hers. She wanted him in her, needed him deep inside her, moving with her. Instead he dropped to his knees and pressed his face between her legs.

  “Oh, God.” She gasped as his fingers slid deep inside of her while his mouth moved over her. Her hands gripped his hair again, holding him as she tensed beneath him. When she finally was able to breathe, she pulled him up and tasted her release on his mouth.

  “Shit. Do you have any rubbers?”

  Instead of answering, she thrust her tongue in his mouth as she fumbled with the box in her nightstand. She tore a small packet open and unrolled a condom over his erection. He groaned when she took the opportunity to squeeze his shaft.

  John gently but firmly pulled her hands away and pressed them into the mattress. He looked into her eyes and Meg’s chest suddenly felt so full she thought it may burst.

  “I love you.” He leaned down and kissed her with less passion and a lot more intent. “I love you more than anything.”

  “I love you,” she finally confessed.

  Putting her hand to his hip, she encouraged him and held his stare as he slid into her.

  It was in that moment that she finally let go of the past. He was here, looking at her like she was his world, touching her like he couldn’t get enough, and loving her like he’d never stopped. And she finally believed that he hadn’t.

  “This is ridiculous,” John said.

  Meg stood, arms crossed and brow arched, staring at him from the master bath. She looked like she was going for firm, but with her hair a tangled mess, standing in nothing but a navy blue panty and bra set, she was flat out sexy as hell. Even with a foamy toothbrush stuck in her mouth. He felt his desire renew.

  “Why?” She turned to spit and rinse.

  “Because I own a house. A house we both love.”

  “So?”

  “So you spend almost as much time here as I do at your apartment.”

  “So?”

  “Megan!”

  She stepped out of the bathroom, yanking a brush through her hair. “I’m not moving in with you. We’ve been back together for like five minutes.”

  “Over a month,” he corrected.

  “Do you really think a month is long enough to move in together?”

  “It’s not like we haven’t lived with each other before. Don’t,” he warned before she could say something snarky. He frowned when she disappeared into the bathroom again.

  She emerged a few moments later with her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. “What if this doesn’t work? I’ll be giving up an apartment that I love and all my things.”

  “Bring your things. And it’s going to work out.”

  She frowned as she walked to the closet where she’d gradually been adding more and more of her clothes. “You don’t know that.”

  Slipping from the bed, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his chest to her back. “I do know it.” He kissed her shoulder several times before putting his mouth to her ear. “There is no other place in the world, besides right here with you.”

  She dropped her head on his shoulder and sighed. “John.”

  “Move in with me. Please.” He smiled when he sensed her resolve cracking. Hugging her to him, he rocked her gently. “Pretty please. I hate waking up without you.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I’ll wake you up every morning like I did today.” He grinned as he thought about the sex they’d had less than an hour ago.

  “I just want to do things right this time.”

  He leaned back enough to turn her in his arms. “This is right. You being here is right.”

  “All right. I’ll think about it.” She laughed when he lifted her off her feet and spun her until he could lay her on the bed. “I have to go meet a client,” she said when he started nipping at her neck.

  He planted a kiss on her lips and then jumped up and trotted out of the room. “I’ll call Steven. We’ll take care of everything.”

  “Hey, I said I’d think about it,” she called after him.

  He smiled as he ignored her. She could try to resist all she wanted, but he was confident he’d be moving her in by the weekend.

  “Hello, Roger,” Meg cooed at the black lab she and John had re
scued the weekend after she moved in. She squeezed by the big dog and set her bag down on the sofa. “Honey, I’m home,” she called out.

  “In the kitchen.”

  “Mmm, what’s for… Wow,” she said coming to a stop. The table was set, candles where flickering, and John was pouring wine.

  He looked up and smiled, and her insides twisted. Damn. How did he do that?

  “Hungry?”

  She finally remembered to breathe. “Famished.”

  “Good.” He grinned as if he knew she’d been instantly turned on by the sight of him. “I made Chicken Puttanesca.” He pulled out her chair. When she was seated, he leaned down and kissed her gently. “How was your day?”

  “Fabulous. Yours?”

  “Much better now.” He sat across from her.

  Meg laughed softly. He was clearly laying the seduction on thick. She wasn’t complaining. She was actually looking forward to whatever he had in mind. He’d been spoiling her with candlelit dinners, evenings curled by the fireplace, and just about anything else he could seem to think of to romance her. She was loving every minute of it.

  So much so, that by the time she finished the dinner he’d cooked, she was ready to crawl across the table and take him right there. He obviously had other plans. He refilled their glasses, took her hand, and led her into the living room. She sat on the sofa while he stoked the fire.

  “I was standing right here,” he said, “when I realized the depth of what I’d lost.”

  The smile that had been curving Meg’s lips fell. They had an unspoken agreement to not speak of the past anymore, and for the six months that they’d been back together, they’d abided by it. It was over, done. Why bring it up now?

  The fire roared back to life and he continued to stare at it. “I knew then that I’d never be that happy again unless you found a way to forgive me. I honestly didn’t know if you ever could.” Finally, he stood and looked at her. “You have, haven’t you? You know I was just a scared kid and that I’ve changed, right?”

  “I know. John—”

  “I never, not for a moment, stopped wanting you in my life, Megan, I just didn’t know what to do with all of it. I didn’t know how to love you, but I do now.”

  “Why are you—” Her question was cut short when he reached in his pocket and pulled out a ring. Meg’s breath caught, and she knew her mouth was hanging open. She didn’t even blink until Roger nudged her, silently begging to be petted. She put her right hand on the dog’s head as John knelt before her and took her left hand.

  “I promise to be the man you need me to be, to always be here, to always love you more and give you more, and support you in whatever you do, if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife. Megan, will you marry me?”

  She knew the beaming smile on her face told him what he needed, but even so, she whispered, “Yes. I would love to marry you.”

  He laughed softly as he slid a platinum band with four diamonds on her finger. He didn’t have to explain. She knew the significance. Four years, four diamonds, four reminders of what could be lost.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  His hand cupped her face as she lifted her gaze to his. “You’re beautiful. I love you.”

  “I love you.” Meg threw her arms around him. She pushed off, knocking him backwards until he was flat on the floor and then kissed him hard. She leaned back to look at him and realized she felt none of the underlying doom that had haunted her when he first returned to town. “We’re getting married,” she squealed.

  “We’re getting married,” he confirmed.

  As if sensing there was reason to celebrate, Roger leaned his head back and howled, causing his owners to laugh.

  About the Author

  Marci Boudreaux lives with her husband, two children, and their numerous pets. She recently hung up her freelance journalist hat to focus on writing books. Romance is her preferred reading and writing genre because nothing feels better than falling in love with someone new, and her husband doesn’t like when she does that in real life.

  She also writes erotic romance as Emilia Mancini.

  Visit Marci at www.marciboudreaux.com

  The Legend of Sarah Latham

  Nearly four hundred years ago, Sarah Latham and William Fuller disappeared without a trace.

  Legend has it she was a wicked witch and he was her demon. Legend also has it that whenever a Latham descendant reaches thirty years of age, Sarah comes to drag them to Hell.

  Good thing twenty-nine year old Elizabeth Latham doesn’t believe in legends. Or at least she didn’t until she happened upon a woman in the family cemetery who just happened to look an awful lot like the paintings in the local museum.

  Elizabeth is determined to stay ground in reality, but her idea of reality is shattered when she realizes Sarah and William have returned. But Elizabeth quickly realizes that Sarah is about as far from wicked as William is from being a demon.

  So if Sarah hasn’t been killing generations of Lathams…who has?

  See more at www.marciboudreaux.com

  The Messenger

  Just because Evelyn Thomas is working at her father’s newspaper doesn’t mean she isn’t a good journalist. All she needs is a chance to prove it.

  Unfortunately for seasoned reporter Wes Reilly, that chance turns out to be the exact same story he’s working on.

  When the journalists get separate leads on the same insurance scam, they butt heads over who gets to expose it. But when Eve’s source ends up in ICU she has no choice but to turn to Wes for help breaking the story.

  Every step they take brings them closer towards the truth and each other. But the path to vindication is filled with danger and uncertainty leaving Wes and Eve struggling to get out of sticky situations and fighting for their lives.

  See more at www.marciboudreaux.com

  The Road Leads Back

  Kara Martinson and Harry Canton weren’t exactly high school sweethearts, but they did share one night neither will ever forget. Twenty-seven years later, Harry surprises Kara at an art gallery opening and discovers he left her with more than just memories when he went away to college. Desperate to connect with the family he never knew existed, Harry convinces his son to move to Stonehill—and pleads with Kara to come, too.

  Kara hasn’t stepped foot in their hometown since the day she was sent away to a home for unwed mothers. Now Harry’s back in her life and as they put together the pieces of his parents’ betrayal, old heartaches start to feel anew. She wants to be near her family, but returning to Iowa means facing some things…and some people…she isn’t quite ready to.

  Can Harry convince her to forgive the past so they can embrace the future they were robbed of so long ago or will the pain of the past be too much for Kara to overcome?

  See more at www.marciboudreaux.com