Anchor - M. Mabie Page 0,1

the sun and moon filtering in from outside, I’d have no clue what time it was at all.

It was dark out when he carried me to bed. My bed? Our bed? There was so much that wasn’t clear. So much that needed discussing. Defined. Lines needed to be drawn. Sad as it was, I was still nervous that it could get worse before better. Would Grant cause more trouble? Would I have to go through a trial? I wanted to sever myself from the past, not continue living in it. My mind traveled into dark corners, so I focused my thoughts on him.

The beautiful man beside me. His physical appearance and the word ‘beautiful’ were exclusive. It was everything about him. His kindness. Passion. He loved me unconditionally. Goodness oozed from him and coated everything it touched. Including me.

I needed him forever.

I’d consistently asked him, twice a day it seemed, if he’d marry me. Persistent and stubborn, he’d say, “I’m asking you, honeybee. But thank you. And I will marry you.”

That was the same thing as a yes. Right?

My heart, and everything else, belonged to him. I had already been his for such a long time. I refused to wait any longer.

He loved me. I loved him.

I was single—for all intents and purposes—and he was free.

I wasn’t going to waste another minute not letting him know I was there for the taking. If he wanted me. Every part of me belonged to every part of him. My lips were the mate to his. My arms fit around him like wrapping paper on Christmas presents. My thoughts were stained with him, the same as my heart. My eyes never failed to look for his. The view was always such a nice bonus.

“You know you want to. Just ask me,” I quietly pleaded. “I’ll say yes, and we’ll run away.” That was something of a fantasy. But who doesn’t dream about being swept away by the man they’re in love with?

With all of the stealth and speed of a geriatric sloth, I moved away from him to take a little walk around the house. Maybe there was something on television that would hold my attention. I gently slid my feet off the side of the bed, then felt his hand find mine.

“Where ya goin’?” he asked. His voice was gravelly and thick with sleep. I glanced over my shoulder. I smiled because his eyes weren’t even open. It was possible he wasn’t even awake. Bringing my leg back up on the bed, I ran my hand over his chest and felt him breathing just as softly and evenly as before.

“Casey?”

I waited, but there was nothing.

I was sucked back into him. I didn’t need a walk. I needed his touch.

My fingers journeyed to their favorite playground—his hair. I combed through it softly and as curly hairs pulled away from each other, they fluffed up. The contrast of his dark hair against the creamy white pillowcase allowed me to see the effect I was having on it. Puffy hair and all, he still looked handsome.

Through everything, he’d been exactly what I’d needed.

He didn’t speak carefully to me like I was glass. But his touch, although still holding the heat that had always been there, felt cooler. Somewhat reserved. My body was still healing, so I could understand his hesitancy to go crazy. Still, I missed the feel of him. The way my blood and muscles felt new after the rush of pleasure he gave me.

He could heal me, distract me. Replace hurt with desire. Fear with ecstasy. Hate with love. Greedily, I just couldn’t resist him. I supposed it was typical. When it came right down to it, I’d always been selfish, but this time I wanted to please and give more than I took.

I changed course. I crawled back onto the bed closer to him and, carefully, wrapped my leg over his side-laying body. I cinched closer. He reflexively drew me near and a moan rumbled in his throat.

“You’re starting trouble, honeybee,” he said as he rolled onto his back taking me with him. I lay on his chest, legs straddling him. Even though his head was foggy, his body was awake. Evident by the hardness I felt when I stretched to kiss his mouth. Not just for his lips, but for the friction created by sliding against him.

“You don’t have to wake up. I can do this on my own,” I assured him sarcastically. “You just fall back asleep. Nothing to see

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