Full Circle (53 page)

“No pressure, of course.”

He grinned. “None at all.” He winked. “Baby,
you could wear a burlap sack and be gorgeous.” He grew more serious
and searched her face. “But I want the big wedding. The cake, the
flowers, the food. All our friends and family there.”

“Okay, so no Vegas.”

“June twenty-ninth gives us plenty of time to
pull this off. And it gives your dad enough time to recover so he
can walk you down the aisle. But given how he feels about me—that
might send him right back to the hospital.”

She shook her head. “Actually, I think my dad
might have finally come around.”

“How did you pull that off?”

“We had a long conversation, and I made him
see how much we love each other. And then he told me a story about
how my mom’s dad didn’t like him at first, either, so I think he
sees his story in ours.”

“Wait. You mean your dad went through with
your mom’s dad what he’s been putting me through?”

She shrugged and stifled a yawn. “So it would
seem.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad he’s finally
coming around. I didn’t like the idea that I was getting between
the two of you.” He gave her a squeeze. “Come on, we should
probably get some sleep. You look exhausted.

He clicked off the light and rolled toward
her as she turned onto her side. It was the same dance they did
every night when they went to bed. They got settled in then shifted
position until he was spooning her, arm slung over her body so that
his hand closed over hers.

She felt protected, even in sleep.

“I only have one question,” she said.

“Mmm, what’s that?” His breath warmed the
back of her neck and shoulder.

“What exactly did you mean by saying you want
to dance again?”

His arms briefly squeezed her as he snuggled
closer and kissed her neck. “Trust.”

“Trust?” Of all the possibilities she and
Lisa had conjured up, trust hadn’t been one of them.

“Dancing with a partner takes unconditional
trust,” he said, his voice quiet. “And, at least for me, dancing is
a metaphor for life.”

This actually sounded more ominous than his
tender tone suggested. “Are you saying you didn’t trust me?”

He shook his head and squeezed her even
harder. “No, baby. I always trusted you. I’ve trusted you since the
moment we met.” He paused. “It’s me I didn’t trust.”

“And you do now?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so you don’t really want to dance with
me then. You know, like
dance
-dancing.”

He chuckled softly. “Oh, I definitely want to
dance with you.” His lips brushed her skin as he spoke. “I want to
teach you the rumba and the Argentine tango and so much more.” His
body flexed as he burrowed closer under the covers. “And I think I
can finally do that now without having a massive panic attack.”

She tipped her head back. “Seriously? The
thought of dancing gave you a panic attack before?”

“Dancing, weddings . . .” He
uttered a soft, breathy chuckle. “I was fucked up, Karma.”

“But you’re not anymore?”

“No, not anymore. Because of you. You saw
what no other woman saw. You loved me in a way no other woman ever
has or ever could.” He made a gentle, introspective noise deep in
his throat. “For me, dancing is more than just steps. It’s more
than just leading a partner through choreography. It’s personal and
intimate. A union of souls with music, with trust at its core.” He
paused. “After what happened with Carol, I lost that. And it wasn’t
just the trust I lost, but the joy dancing gave me, too. And where
there’s no joy, there’s no life. And without trust, there is no
dancing. Just two people going through the motions.” He softly
shook his head, rustling the pillow. “Without that connection, I
didn’t want to dance anymore.” He pulled her more snugly against
him. “And then you came along and woke me up. Do you realize that
the night we met was the first time I’d danced in six years? I
never told you that, did I?”

She exhaled a tender gasp. “No.”

“It was.” He nodded and briefly pressed his
lips against the back of her shoulder. “I didn’t even realize that
until recently. But leading you onto that dance floor that night
felt so right.” He kissed her shoulder again then went quiet for
several seconds before he pulled back and rolled her so she faced
him. He cupped her cheek in his palm, brushing his thumb back and
forth. His eyes sparkled in the darkness as he gazed at her face.
“So, you see, Karma, you made me want to dance again. You’re the
reason why I put that item on my list. Because I wanted to dance
with
you
. In every way imaginable. And not just dance, but
live
. You’ve made me want to live again. You are my life
partner in every way. My heart, my breath, my reason for living.
And even if you and I never set foot on a professional dance floor,
I still want to dance with you . . . and
only
you . . . for the rest of my life.”

She stared wordlessly at him. As he’d done so
many times before, he’d rendered her speechless. And when there
were no words to express how he’d made her feel, all that remained
were actions.

She pushed forward and claimed his mouth with
her own. As she was his life, he was hers. And as she was his
heart, his breath, and his reason for living, he was all those
things and more to her.

He rolled to his back, and she slid onto his
body.

“I love you.” She pushed her hands under his
shirt and curled her fingers against his firm, ribbed abdomen.

“God, I love you, too.” The way he said it as
he pushed her hair back from her face sounded like a prayer or a
proclamation of gratitude.

Despite exhaustion’s tug on both her body and
her emotions, she had to feel him inside her. She needed that vital
connection more than ever. To make her feel cherished and safe,
reassured that everything was okay.

“Love me,” she whispered against his lips.
“Love me now.”

His eyebrows pinched inward as his gaze
searched her face. A moment later, he rolled her to her back and
situated his hips between her legs. “I’ll do you one better.” He
brushed his fingers down the side of her face and stared into her
eyes. “I’ll love you forever.”

His lips met hers in a blazing promise as he
slammed her hands against the mattress and rolled against her
body.

Yes. This was the man she’d missed for the
last week. The man she longed for and dreamed about and desired. So
full of confidence. So virile. A force of nature who decimated her
body in such a pleasant, mind-altering way.

He released her hands, kissing her to within
an inch of delirious. Within seconds, he’d stripped her bare.

She tugged at his T-shirt, and he rose to his
knees and bent forward so she could yank it over his head as he
shoved his flannel pants down his legs and kicked them off.

He snagged a condom from the nightstand and
hastily rolled it on.

And then he was on her again, skin against
skin, his chest pressed against her breasts, his hips rocking
forward and back, sliding his hard cock against her.

His forearms stretched under her armpits
toward the headboard, and she felt the mattress bunch up beneath
her as if he’d gripped the edge.

Leverage.

A fevered chill raced down her spine as Mark
used his hold on the mattress to drag himself more forcefully up
her body, making his shoulders and biceps flex and bunch. He was
going to fuck her hard tonight. Fast and forceful. Like a man
determined to stake his claim.

A hungry growl rumbled in his throat as she
reached between them and guided the head of his cock to her
entrance. Then she hitched her feet on the insides of his knees and
locked her arms around his back. She instinctively knew she needed
to hold on tight.

His chest pumped hard against hers, even
though he was pressed so firmly against her it was a wonder he
could breathe at all. His intense gaze burned into hers, making her
belly clench. His mouth hovered barely an inch from hers. The
moment stretched as if he were torn. Did he go on staring at her,
or did he fuck her brains out?

She panted and rolled her hips, enticing him
to do the latter. He was barely an inch inside her, but the
pressure was incredible. If only she could shimmy down a bit, she
could feel more of him. She squirmed and tilted her pelvis,
managing to engulf another inch or two of his shaft.

One side of his mouth lifted in a sexy smirk.
“Are we impatient?”

Her body needed his. Heat consumed her core.
The muscles in her lower belly were already tight as a drum and
ready to let go.

“I want you.” God, she sounded like she was
begging.

His smirk deepened, revealing his lone dimple
in his right cheek. “How badly do you want me? Hmm?” He
ever-so-slightly angled his hips forward, giving her a little bit
more as she wriggled beneath him. She didn’t want a little more,
she wanted the whole enchilada. All of it. Now.

“Mark . . . please.” She’d
gone one step beyond begging, closing in on desperation now.

“Please what?” A tiny bead of sweat rolled
down his temple, giving away how much his restraint was taxing him,
too.

His body trembled as he tilted his hips even
more and slid halfway home.

But Karma wanted him flush against her, pubic
bone against pubic bone. And she wanted it now!

“Damn it, Mark. Fuck me. God, please, just
fuck me
.”

With an animalistic growl, he plunged into
her to the hilt, making them both gasp. His eyes popped open wide
for a split second as if he’d just felt an explosion inside his
body, and then God in Heaven above, he gave her exactly what she’d
asked for.

With her breasts mashed against his chest,
his hips slapped hard and loud against her flesh in a merciless
rhythm. He used the leverage his death grip on the mattress gave
him to his advantage, surging ferociously against her, building
momentum. Under his breath, he uttered groan-like profanities that
sounded more like reverent murmurings of disbelief. As if he’d
never felt anything so pleasurable and never wanted it to stop even
though he knew it would. And from the way it sounded, the end would
come sooner rather than later. This wasn’t the kind of fucking that
burned hot and long like a dying star. This was
supernova-at-the-moment-of-detonation sex. Blinding, powerful,
all-consuming, and void-creating.

Each forward thrust pounded him deep into her
body, striking her G-spot with relentless brutality. Her orgasm was
already shooting to the surface, her body coiling, her fingernails
digging into his back, the desperation rising to a deafening
level.

But through the physical and sensual chaos,
he never tore his gaze from hers. The last time they’d had sex, he
hadn’t looked her in the eye at all. This time, he seemed hell-bent
on making up for that.

“Mark . . . oh God,
Mark . . .” Her feet were still snared around his
knees, and she levered them to the sides, wanting him closer,
deeper.

And now he had another weapon in his sexual
arsenal.

Digging his knees into the mattress, he
pushed forward even as his arms pulled.

She saw stars.

The bed rocked like a tossed rowboat in a
hurricane. The headboard thumped against the wall.

And Karma was about to explode.

“Fuck . . .
fuck . . . oh, fuck!” Mark’s eyes flared wide as he
stared down at her. “Tight . . . ” He gasped and
sucked in his breath. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Yeah, because she was about to splinter into
a million pieces as the supernova destroyed her body.

Usually, she came first, and she came
multiple times. Not today. This time, they were getting there
together for one massive, glorious sharing of nirvana. Karma could
tell by the way his shoulders tightened and the way the skin around
his eyes grew taut that he was on the same course she was. That
they were approaching the edge and about to leap together.

“Oh my God, Mark . .  don’t
stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” Each demand rose in pitch,
escalating as her throat tightened.

And just as she crested, crying out and
clutching him close, he thrust his hips into her and briefly
stilled as a bone-vibrating groan rolled from his throat and into
her waiting mouth as she took his lips with hers.

As he continued pumping his hips against her,
she swallowed every moan, every gasp, every muttered curse,
reveling in her own body’s euphoria.

This was what loving him and being loved by
him did. Their emotions fed one another, strengthening both,
delivering greater pleasure than either could find alone.

And now he was all hers. From this day
forward, she no longer had to share him with anyone. The last
remaining door in his heart that led to the past was finally closed
and locked.

Let the future begin.

Chapter 39

Life isn’t about finding yourself. It’s about
creating yourself.

-George Bernard Shaw

The next week breezed by in a flurry of activity as
they set their wedding into motion between trips to the hospital to
visit her dad. Daniel and Zach took on the task of finding a venue
for both the ceremony and the reception, a florist, and a hair
stylist and makeup artist to primp everyone on the big day. Lisa
worked on invitations and the rehearsal dinner. Johnny found a
photographer and videographer, as well as a DJ. Giada used her
pastry chef connection in Chicago to find someone local to bake
their cake. And Rob and Holly helped coordinate travel arrangements
for family and friends from Chicago. She and Mark handled
everything else and paid all the bills.

Their wedding became a massive group effort.
Everyone was involved and received marching orders to throw as much
money as necessary at any problem that presented itself.

Meanwhile, her dad’s progress after heart
surgery was good. He was sitting up in bed the next day even though
he was still groggy. The day after that, he was able to walk
himself to the bathroom a couple of times. The doctors said he was
recovering as expected, and by the following Friday, he was
discharged and sent home with orders to rest for six to eight
weeks. He would fully recover just in time for the wedding.