Page 74 of Size Doesn't Matter
As always, Jack’s delicious voice drew her attention back to him, the rich, deep timbre holding sway over her, and when she stared down into his gorgeous blue eyes, his indulgent gaze told her she was his world.
God knew he was hers.
“Sophie, I have adored you from the moment I saw your first make-up tutorial blooper reel on Instagram.” A twittering of laughter echoed around the hall. “And I have loved you from the moment we first met on that hotel balcony on New Year’s Eve. I can’t imagine a life without you in it. I refuse to imagine a life without you by my side. Say you’ll marry me, angel. Say you’ll be my wife.”
The urge to cry, to throw herself at him and scream yes was narrowly averted when she realised he hadn’t actually asked her to marry him. Cocking one brow at his thinly veiled command, she planted her hands on her hips and said, “I didn’t hear a question in there.”
Jack bowed his head and chuckled, along with everyone else in attendance. “It’s never the easy way with you, is it?”
She returned his grin and shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Jack lifted his head and stared at her, his shoulders bouncing with laughter. “All right, baby. You win.” He took a breath and shook his head at her, his wicked smile promising her arse was in for a world of hurt when they got home. “Sophie Bennett, will you marry me?”
“See?” she said, needing to push him further, needing to know he was there for all of it, all of her. Brattiness included. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Sophie,” he growled, his warning clear as he took her hand in his. “Don’t make me put you over my knee in front of all these people, baby.”
He’d said the same thing to her at the last wedding they’d attended. The first time she’d thought she was having his baby.
The night he’d truly claimed her as his.
“Okay, fine,” she said, giggling when he huffed a muffled “Brat” at her. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
As soon as Sophie said the words, the room exploded with cheering and streamers and music. But she didn’t hear any of it. She was too focussed on the man sliding the most beautiful—and enormous—diamond ring she’d ever seen onto her finger.
“Wow,” she said, her vocabulary failing her as she took in what had to be at least five carats of emerald-cut perfection now weighing down her left hand. “That is so heavy.”
Jack levered to his feet and inspected the ring. “Do you want me to buy you something smaller?”
“Don’t you dare!” she replied, feigning horror as she snatched her hand back and hid it from him, making him laugh. God, she loved his laugh. “I’ll just have to get stronger, that’s all. Learn how to carry the weight of it.”
Jack pulled her into his arms and pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re already one of the strongest women I know, and I’ll help you carry whatever weighs you down for as long as you let me.”
She smiled. “That’s not even remotely what I meant,” she said, knowing full well he knew that but loving that he’d said it anyway.
“But it’s the truth nonetheless,” he said. “You’re my woman, Sophie. My baby, my good girl, my brat. You’re my angel, and while I can’t promise you that every day will be sunshine and roses, I will spend the rest of my life reminding you that you are loved, you are cherished, and you are not alone.”
The urge to throw herself at him was clawing at her again, but she wasn’t ready to submit to him just yet. Pushing his buttons, on the other hand, was always a good idea. “So what you’re really saying is I’m stuck with you.”
He pursed his lips, but not before another laugh slipped out. “Yep.” He wasn’t taking the bait.
Dropping her gaze, she toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “You know you’re stuck with me, too, right? Fat arse, bratty attitude, and all?”
Jack smacked her arse and hauled her closer, pushed his thickening cock against the apex of her thighs. “Never forget, I have an abiding love for this arse of yours, especially when your bratty attitude gives me an excuse to paint it red.”
She bit back a fresh grin and popped the top button open. “Should I give you an excuse right now?”
He cocked one brow and stared at her in that bossy way she loved that made her heart race and her panties wet. “Are you that eager for a spanking?” he murmured, looking around at the other wedding guests as they filled the dance floor again.
“I’m eager to get off my feet,” she clarified. “But I wouldn’t say no to a nice spanking.”
“A nice spanking,” he repeated, shaking his head, then laughed. “Little brat. When I get you home, the spanking you get will be anything butnice.”
She grabbed his wrist and checked his watch for the time. “And when will that be exactly?”
“When I say so,” he said, leading her away from the crowd and towards a table and chairs.
“You’re going to make me wait, aren’t you?”