She glanced at the diamond ring on her finger. Tiny diamonds formed an X shape with an O of black diamonds, signifying the typical XO phrase. But to Gray, they’d represented sticks and a drum. He’d apologized for buying it off the shelf and not getting it custom-made, which boggled her mind. She’d never seen anything more lovely.
Dragging her attention from her ring, she focused on the sensation of his fingers tracing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Where?”
“Right here.” His hand crept higher, creating a path for his lips to follow. “They’re everywhere. I could spend a lifetime searching for them with my tongue.”
“Pretty sure you’ve already found most of them, especially in that particular area.” She sifted his hair through her fingers and sighed, dropping back against the mussed sheets. “It’s official. I’ve had more sex in the past two weeks than in the whole of my entire life.”
He nipped her lower belly. “Is that a complaint?”
“No. That’s a yay me.” She tugged on his hair until he got the memo and crawled up her body to settle on top of her, his cock heavy between her legs. “Not that I’ve done a complete study or anything, but I’ve decided engaged sex is way better than regular sex. Although that was pretty fucking amazeballs too.”
“You seem to be overlooking all the ways my native skills in this area are probably influencing your opinion.” He tilted her jaw upward and kissed the corner of her mouth. “How you could after all of the evidence I’ve presented, I don’t know, but…”
“Dude, your evidence is against my thigh. It’s way too hard to overlook.”
His laughter as he buried his face in her hair made her laugh too, just from sheer joy. If she’d ever been this happy, she didn’t remember it.
Her entire life had been building up to this moment. She was engaged to the man she loved. She was in a successful band with people she cared about and they were coming up with some kickass new material. And she had a terrific best friend who would make her into an aunt-by-proxy next summer. How could she ask for anything more?
“I want to show you something.”
“I’ve already seen it from a variety of angles. Pretty sure we’re on a BFF basis by now.”
“Forget BFF. I’m thinking your name’s tattooed there in invisible ink.” He grinned and pinched her nipple before rolling away to tug a notepad out of the nightstand drawer.
“Invisible’s not nearly good enough. I think your cock would look good with a nice big J.” She turned onto her side. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Remember that song ‘Finally’ that I mentioned at the band meeting?”
She sat up, tugging the sheet with her. “Yeah.”
“I wanted you to see it before I show the rest of the band. It’s not complete but—”
“Gimme.” She held out her hand.
He gave her the pad and sat back, propping his arm on his updrawn leg. Naked as the day he was born and casual as could be about it.
So she dropped her sheet. Hell, she could be casually nude too. At least she could work on it.
She glanced down at the words he’d scrawled, more conscious of her more than generous boobs flying free than what she was reading. At first. Then the lyrics snagged her attention and she forgot all about what he might be thinking about her curves.
A dream came true, finally
The moment you said you loved me too
And up until I take my last breath
I’ll cherish what is mine, finally
Goose bumps popped out over her arms. The song was so beautiful and poignant. She should’ve been dancing around the room but instead she trembled, as if the sudden wind shaking the windows blew cold air straight onto her bones.
“Change that line,” she said, pointing.
He propped his chin on her shoulder. “Which one?”
“The one about your last breath. Change it.”
“Jazz,” he said, chuckling. “It’s just a saying.”
“I’m serious. The rest of it’s perfect but take that line out. Look, we can even say—”
His cell went off and he went still at her side before moving away. “Sorry. I have to take this.”
He grabbed his phone and went into the bathroom. The sound of the door closing echoed, making her push aside the pad and draw her knees up to her chest. She was breathing too fast—had been even before the phone call—but now she would’ve sworn a panic attack was coming on. It had been years. The last time was since shortly after Brent had attacked her. Before then she hadn’t had one since her foster care days. But man, when they came back, they always knocked her flat on her ass.