Sand Angel Page 0,67

bed and her lips part on a cry. “Yes,” she hissed. Her body tensed, inner muscles flexing. Threading her fingers through his hair, she held him close. Her mind shut down, focusing on the growing pressure between her thighs.

Drew plucked a certain chord inside her and a heat wave exploded, swallowing her up. “Drew!” Her climax struck, hard and fast. Every muscle in her body seized. Powerful spasms tightened and released. Lost in the maelstrom of sensations, she was barely aware when he moved atop her. As contractions squeezed, one after another, she was filled with the most incredible fullness.

“Damn, woman, you’re tight.” Drew slammed his hips between her thighs. Over and over he thrust, driving deep and setting off another series of ripples inside her. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on—loving the friction between them and the musky scent that surrounded them.

His labored breathing whispered across her face. He stared at her with such intensity, and then he froze. She felt the tremor that assailed him. A throaty growl ripped from his throat. His cock jerked several times, spilling his seed as his eyelids slid closed. The fervor in his expression melted into a look of unadulterated pleasure.

Drew released a sated breath. “Mmmm…” He collapsed. His dead weight pushed her farther into the mattress. The sound of a horn beeping made him quickly roll off her and move off the bed. “Damn, we’re late.” He blew out the candle on the nightstand. Zoë heard a thump, knew he’d banged his knee on the edge of the bed when he said, “Fuck.”

She pushed into a sitting position as he made his way out of the bedroom.

He tugged on his pants, moving to retrieve his shirt draped over her bike. “Get dressed.” He disappeared beneath the material and reappeared, moving to switch on a light before he blew out the candles on the counter and kitchen table. Then he took a seat on the couch to put his socks and shoes on.

The horn sounded again, drawing his attention.

“Hurry.” He stood, tucking his blue polo shirt into his pants.

“What’s going on?” she asked, concern making the small hairs on her arms rise as she pushed from the bed. Drew was acting strangely. Instead of answering her, he opened the trailer door and was gone, slamming it closed behind him.

Chills raced up her back. Something wasn’t right. She yanked open a drawer and found a T-shirt, dragging it over her head. She shimmied into a pair of jeans from the next drawer. Underwear was the furthest thing from her mind at that moment. With hurried steps she made her way to the front door and swung it open.

Her breath caught.

Drew stood before a black stretch limousine with an armful of long-stemmed red roses. There had to be at least four dozen. In the center was one white rose. His smile looked a little strained.

Barefooted, she took the steps from the trailer to stand on the rough asphalt. “Drew?”

“Marry me?” He swallowed hard, sucking in a breath, revealing his nervousness.

Without pause, she nodded. “Okay.”

“I mean now.”

He had to be kidding. “Now?” she murmured.

“Let’s go to Vegas tonight. I’ve made all the arrangements,” he explained, removing her excuse that nothing had been planned.

Zoë’s pulse leaped. His smile deepened when he saw hers. He really wanted to marry her tonight.

“Someone will be by to drive your rig to your mom and dad’s,” he added.

The excitement surging through her veins froze. “Drew?” Would he realize how much it meant to have her family in attendance as they made their commitments to each other? She had left them out of her life for way too long. “I—”

The back door to the limousine opened and Josh stuck his head out. “Hurry, or we’ll miss the plane.” He winked at Zoë with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

Her gaze darted from Josh to Drew. “Mom? Dad?”

Drew pushed the roses into Josh’s awaiting hands. “Inside.”

Zoë felt tears well. Emotion gathered in her throat. As if she had wings, she flew into Drew’s open arms. Warm laughter caressed her ear as he swung her around once before setting her on her feet to usher her inside the car.

“I’ll get your shoes and lock up,” he said.

“What about clothes?” she asked.

“Trust me. You won’t need any.” His sexy expression made her giddy. She was getting married—to the man of her dreams.

As Zoë climbed inside the car, the scent of leather rose from the seats. Happiness was in her family’s expressions