Hard Fall (Trophy Boyfriends #2) - Sara Ney Page 0,81
legs.
Sighs all around once he’s fully buried deep inside. Fuck it’s fantastic, fuck it’s good. Fuck, fuck, fuck me.
And he does.
Gentle then hard, then fast then slow.
He pounds away at me.
Rolls me over so I’m on top, letting me use his body any way I choose.
Rolls me back so I’m beneath him, his hand gripping the headboard. Watching his bicep flex is like watching porn. Gets me hotter and wetter than I already am and I feel my pussy clench.
“God, Hollis,” he pants. “I love you.”
Say what now?
“I love you.” Thrust. “I’m sorry but I do.” Thrust.
He leans down to kiss me, one hand still on the headboard, pulling at it to push himself deeper. “Christ you feel good. God you’re beautiful.”
Intoxicating words.
Impossible to ignore.
My lips part. “I…”
His blue eyes look down at me, bright. Optimistic.
“I love you, too.”
Epilogue
One week later
Trace
“My dad said you’re the best closer they’ve ever had.” Hollis reaches over to my side of the mattress, brushing an errant hair out of my eyes. We’re lying in bed, down for the night, about to turn off the lights. “It makes me so proud of you.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“Yesterday when I popped in at his penthouse—I had an early copy of a book that’s the perfect read for him. A biography about some baseball player from the thirties.” She yawns.
Hollis knows nothing about baseball and it shows.
Fucking adorable.
“Did he say anything else?” I love compliments.
“About you? Not really. He still seems to think you dating me is a distraction, so I tread lightly.”
Dang.
I really wanted to hear more about how wonderful I am.
She kisses my temple and continues absentmindedly brushing her fingers through my hair. I love it.
I love her.
“Hollis?”
“Hmm?”
“Let’s get married.”
Her fingers stop and she twists her body so she can sit up in bed, turning to face me. “That’s not funny.”
“Do I look like I’m laughing?”
The more I think about it, the more I want it to be true, the more I want it to happen. I don’t fucking care how long it’s been—I am in love with Hollis Westbrooke. Have been since I bumped into her at work and she basically told me to piss off.
“You’re serious?” She studies my face.
“Dead serious.” I study her stomach. “Don’t you want babies?”
“Oh come on now, that’s not fair—you can’t bring sweet babies into this. That’s manipulation.”
I’ll say whatever it takes to get her to say yes, short of bribery, that is.
“I’m just saying…we could start trying for a family tonight.” I run a hand up her thigh and don’t stop until it’s spanning the flat plain of her belly.
An eye roll. “I am not showing up at my wedding pregnant.”
“So you’re saying we’re having a wedding.”
“I’m saying…” She bites her bottom lip as the hand on her stomach begins doing slow circles. Moves up to cup her breast. “Stop that—I’m trying to think.”
I lean over to kiss her nipple.
“Shit…I can’t think when you’re doing that.”
“Marry me,” I say.
“I…” Her throat constricts when she swallows. “Want to.”
“You want to marry me?”
A nod. “Yes.”
Holy fuck. I asked her to marry me and she said yes! Holy balls, my mother is going to lose her mind with excitement at the thought of a wedding to plan! And, I beat my brother Tripp to the altar, so he can suck my balls. Win-win.
“Who the hell gets engaged after knowing someone three weeks?” she muses. “My father is going to be furious.”
Since when do I give a shit what her old man thinks? He might be starting to come around, but he’s still a pompous prick.
“When are you going to stop caring what your dad thinks?” I roll her onto her back and gaze down at her. My fiancée. “He is not in control of your future—you are.”
She looks up at me, pretty eyes softening. “You really are…” She gulps. “An incredible man.”
Not one single person has ever said that to me before. Not one.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you. You’re my fucking fiancée.”
She kisses me then with a laugh as I climb on top of her.
Hollis, my beautiful future wife.
The future Mrs. Wallace.
Hollis Walla—
“Oh my god.” I clamp my lips shut.
The delicate hands on my ass stop trailing up my spine. “What?”
No way in hell am I bringing up that horrible name, not unless I want her changing her mind, and I absolutely do not. Nope. We are getting married and I don’t want her saying no.
“We’re having a wedding,” I say, kissing the corner of her mouth—it’s