Page 135 of Burning for You

I drag a couple of camp chairs over. I watch Carolyn enjoying the twinkling lake, with the sun shining gloriously.

“Close your eyes,” I say and reach into my jacket pocket. Then I get on one knee and kiss her. Her lashes bat open.

She gasps, looking at the ring I present to her.

“Will you marry me, Carolyn Meyer?” I say, almost unable to contain my tears.

“This is so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Montana sapphire. I found the stone here, can you believe it? I asked my jeweler friend to treat it and make this ring.”

Her mouth forms a silent ‘O.’

“So, what do you say?”

“Of course I’ll marry you, Levi Holt,” she says and kisses me. “You’re the first, you know.”

“Is this some kind of trick?” She’s been engaged twice before!

“You’re the first to be my last,” Carolyn says. “How many years have I wasted before I met you?”

“You haven’t wasted anything. We’re here, now, because we’re meant to be.”

Carolyn smiles proudly. Then she pauses in reflection. Looking at her devious eyes, I know this time she’s thinking dirty.

“Go on, tell me,” I say.

“You were the first real man I gratified myself over,” she explains—her gaze between cheeky and proud. “Real, like, you know, the opposite of Aquaman. I could touch you, and you could touch me, for real.”

I bet she could’ve gotten any celebrity she fancied, even Jason Momoa.

“So what did you do, Miss Meyer soon-to-be Mrs. Holt?” It feels so good calling her ‘Mrs. Holt.’

She forms a sideway smile. “I did it in the bath, with a huge fluffy towel.”

I throw my head back on a laugh. This chick was so unbelievably horny that she toweled her clit, imagining me? The thought hits my systems, sending me into an exigent state of hard-on.

“You told Josh I was always ready for you.”

“You will be, won’t you?”

I should count myself lucky. She’s smart, she’s determined, and she’s never short on libido.

As my arousal cranks up, I lead her to the bedroom and help her get to the mattress. She lays on her side, a gesture which I know means ‘spoon me please.’ But as I position myself behind her, she says, “Actually, I want to see you.”

“Okay.” I crawl around her form and then lay facing her.

Now it’s time for multitasking and maneuvering around her belly. I’ve become an expert at it, an achievement which tells me I’ve grown up—from someone who knew sex, to a man who knows a woman.

“Is this okay?” I ask under my kiss, right after I slide my thigh under her and cradle her belly.

“Divine,” she sighs, her belly resting on mine. “It feels like I’m not pregnant.”

I introduce my member.

“Levi…”

“Yes, Wing Girl?”