37. Michael

MICHAEL

C ollapsing, I pull Alice with me as I roll to the side, not wanting to crush her.

We’re a tangle of hot and sweaty limbs as we work to catch our breaths, but I still pull her into my side, not ready to lose contact.

“I’ll clean you up in a minute.” I kiss the top of her head. “But not yet.”

Alice snuggles her cheek against my chest, making a sound of contentment.

I kiss her hair again, the twinkling lights above us casting a colorful glow on her golden locks.

I can feel her smile on my skin. “Did you say I had mistletoe eyes ?”

“Uh-huh.” I stroke my hand down her back. “They’re green, like mistletoe.” I palm her ass. “And I want to kiss everything below them.”

She shakes her head, letting out a snort of laughter, and we settle into each other further.

Her hand splays over my stomach, and I feel her back rise, like she’s inhaling to speak, only she doesn’t say anything.

I close my free hand over hers. “What’s going on in that beautiful brain, Baby Cakes?”

Her fingers shift until they’re entwined with mine. “What does it mean?” Her shoulder lifts in a little shrug. “Are we dating now?”

A chuff escapes me, and I feel her tense against my side.

Before she can pull back, I drag her over my body until she’s sprawled across me.

“Look at me.” I wait until her vulnerable eyes meet mine. “I’m yours. And that wetness leaking out of you, soaking my cock, that marks you as mine. There’s no one else. For either of us.”

Alice blinks, and I know she can feel the truth in my words.

“So yeah, we’re dating for the next few days, or however long it takes me to find you the perfect ring. And after that, you’ll be my fiancée. Then, if I have my say, I’ll be calling you wife by the time the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve.”