Planting my palms on his chest, I set a rhythm that has his eyes rolling back. The solid warmth of him inside me, beneath me, surrounding me, it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.
“Look at me,” I demand as I feel him getting close and his muscles tense beneath my fingers.
He does, and his gaze burns with such naked adoration that it almost hurts to witness. Six months ago, I would have run from that look.
“I love you,” I whisper. Though still unfamiliar on my tongue, the words are utterly true. “God, Lucas, I love you so much.”
Something breaks in his expression, and he rises to capture my mouth with his. The change in angle hits exactly right, and suddenly, I’m falling as pleasure radiates outward in waves that leave me trembling. He follows a heartbeat later, and his release triggers aftershocks that prolong my orgasm.
We collapse together, breathing hard, our hearts racing in tandem. His arms come around me, and he holds me close against his chest in that protective way I once resisted butnow crave. For several minutes, we lie in silence as his fingers trace idle patterns on my back.
“What are you thinking?” he asks finally, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I consider deflecting with a joke—old habits die hard—but instead, I offer him the truth. “That I never expected this. You. Us.”
“Regrets?” There’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice that most people would never notice but that I’ve learned to recognize.
“Not a single one,” I assure him, propping myself up to meet his eyes.
“I used to think we hated each other.”
“Oh, we did,” I reply with a smirk.
He laughs. “And yet, you married me.”
I shrug. “You were the only man who ever kept up.”
As we lie there in the calm, the comfort of our usual banter softens into something deeper.
“I admired you,” he says finally. “Even when we were at each other’s throats. You never backed down. Never sold out. I hated how much I respected it.”
“I knew you were in love with me the second you saw me in the home team tunnel at USC.” I tease him.
“I’m pretty sure the drool on your face was all the proof I needed that you wanted me.”
I roll my eyes and then shift closer, suddenly serious. “I love you,” I say, not as a declaration but as a truth. An offering.
“I love you,” he echoes, pulling my hand to his lips. “And I like you, too. Even when you’reinsufferable.”
“Same,” I reply, smiling into his collarbone. “Especially then.”
I sit up suddenly. “Oh! I almost forgot.”
Lucas raises an eyebrow as I scramble out of bed and pad across the floor to where my bag sits abandoned near the door.
“What are you doing?” he asks with amusement.
“I got you something,” I call over my shoulder, digging through the bag until my fingers close around the envelope. “Stay there.”
I duck into the closet and rummage through the drawer where I stashed the ridiculous purchase I made on a whim three days ago. When I emerge, Lucas’s expression shifts from confusion to disbelief, then to absolute delight.
“Are those?—”
“Mickey ears? Yes.” I place the sparkly headband on my head, feeling both silly and strangely liberated. I spent years crafting the perfect professional image, and now here I am in Disney merchandise, standing before the man I love. “I’ve been told they’re essential attire.”
Lucas sits up, and his eyes are bright with a childlike joy I’ve come to treasure. I hand him the envelope, suddenly shy.
“What’s this?” he asks.
