Page 38 of Keeper of Hearts
"Gage," she moans, squirming in my arms when I press my thumb to her clit. "We're going to be late."
"Too bad." I nip her skin, flicking her clit. "You should have thought of that before you decided to go without panties tonight. You'll spend the whole night soaked in your own juices, making a bigger mess for me to clean up when we get home."
She moans softly, but she doesn't tell me no. She just melts into me, letting me play with her until she's soaking my hand and crying out my name.
I still don't want to go to this fucking reunion when she's limp and boneless in my arms, but there's nothing I won't do for her. She's been my whole world for twenty-four years.
We survived high school and the chaos of a short-lived film career together. We survived college, medical school, a grueling residency, and a fellowship. We survived two adoptions, two perfect little girls, and four different cross-country moves. Troian has been my rock through every single thing life has thrown at us. She's taught me grace and compassion and how to love like she does, and she's never once stopped looking at me like I'm her hero.
Hell no, I won't tell her no.
So we go to the reunion. We dance and we eat and we make nice with people who stopped mattering a lifetime ago. And, like always, Troian shows more grace than any of them deserve, especially Victoria, who looks like life gave her exactly what she deserved. But Troian doesn't rub it in her face when Victoria haltingly asks for forgiveness.
She never does. She simply forgives.
My wife has had two hearts beating inside her body, and she loves hard enough to do them both justice. She loves me enough to bring my whole world to life, over and over again.
And at the end of the night, when we're home in bed and she's on her hands and knees for me, I love her hard enough to remind her that she is—and will always be—the only thing in this world that I need.
