Adoring You Read online

  Peter smiled, the lines around his mouth a little more prominent than the night he proposed to me. He looked a little older and a little more weary, but he never looked happier or more handsome in my eyes. He grabbed the ukulele I gave him that night, which occupied a permanent stand in our sunroom, and started to strum it.

  “Mommy, you gave daddy uku–uku, and he married you?” Michele inquired, her doe eyes round.

  “That’s right,” Peter chuckled. “That’s why I married mommy.”

  “Then when I marry, I give a boy uku–uku?”

  Peter and I shared a look, our amusement mirrored in our faces.

  “Sure, honey. When you find a boy you want to marry, you give him a uku–uku.”

  The doorbell rang, and Michele squealed, flailing her pudgy little arms and legs until I let her down. Peter and I followed her to the door, opening it to find Teresa standing there, holding her daughter, Brie, in her arms. The little blonde child was the spitting image of Teresa when she was younger.

  “Hi Michele,” Teresa said, patting my little girl’s head as she wrapped her tiny arms around her godmother’s leg.

  Brie squirmed out of her mother’s embrace to join Michele, and they ran out into the front yard, jabbering away like little kids do. As we watched them, my husband wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me close to him. He kissed the top of my head and then rested his cheek on it. When Teresa looked to Peter and me, she was beaming with pride.

  “Thanks for babysitting, Teresa,” Peter said warmly.

  “No problem,” she said, turning to leave and waving. “Don’t forget you’ve got them next week. Have fun on your date night!”

  We laughed and watched as Teresa ushered the toddlers into her car and drove away.

  “Happy anniversary, my love,” Peter said as he closed the door

  He wrapped his arms around my waist, and we shared a slow, lazy kiss in the silent house without any interruptions from our energetic baby.

  “Happy anniversary,” I murmured into his lips.

  “Ah,” he said, pulling away slightly. “Jorge wanted me to ask whether you’ve decided on that trip to France.”

  “To visit Richard?”

  Peter nodded, and I thought fondly upon my old agent, Richard Treble. He had come out of retirement for me, and I had made sure it was worth his while. Within a few years, I had established my place in the musical world, and not just the classical one. It had been a challenging trial, especially with my unexpected pregnancy, but with Richard’s expertise and my determination, we made a power team.

  He nearly cried tears of joy the year I won my first Opera Award and Grammy, and I sent him packing to France to finally have the retirement with his wife that he deserved.

  Now that a year has passed, I guessed he was getting bored of doing nothing, and he often invited his old peers and colleagues to visit him. If he didn’t find an excuse to visit all of us first.

  I giggled. “Sure. Is Lena coming too? I haven’t seen her in so long.”

  Peter smiled, nuzzling his lips against my forehead. “Yeah, since she’s not pregnant this time.”

  Not to everyone’s surprise, Jorge and Lena had a whirlwind romance. But what was surprising – shocking, even – was their enduring relationship. They got married not too long after Peter and I did. I guess Lena’s strong, grounded personality was good for our friend, who was absolutely smitten with his wife, giving her so many children that it seemed like she was constantly pregnant.

  Even after marriage, Jorge was exactly the same. Minus the womanizing. And Peter confirmed that he had been exactly like that before gaining a professional reputation in the music world. It was good to know that fame, money, or power never got to his head. Jorge just got to Jorge’s head. I was pretty sure he was born like that. In fact, I was certain of it.

  Peter let go of me, his hand sliding down to grasp mine as we walked upstairs.

  “What time is our reservation for Alléchant?” he asked, glancing back at me.

  I checked my watch. “We’ve got enough time.”

  He raised a brow. “For what?”

  “To reenact our anniversary,” I teased, smiling coyly.

  I ran past him, tugging on his hand urgently as we headed towards our room. He laughed.

  “You mean, the second part of the story?” His eyes twinkled.

  It had been a shock to find out that I was pregnant a few months after the night Peter proposed to me. The nausea and vomiting was so uncharacteristic of me that I immediately knew something was wrong. Or I guess, it was so right. But uncomfortably so.

  As soon as Peter got the news, he took the first plane to meet me, and with dark circles under his eyes and trembling hands, he proposed again, but with the idea that we get married sooner rather than later. We were both frightened and surprised, but at the same time, it seemed natural to take that next step together, despite how fast it was happening.

  From then on, we spent as much time together as possible, having as much loud and rampant sex in the next nine months before we committed ourselves to eighteen years of responsible parenting. Which, of course, included not traumatizing our child or teaching them about the birds and the bees too soon.

  Our wedding took place only a few months after I found out I was pregnant. Teresa was my maid of honor, and Jorge was Peter’s best man. It was an intimate wedding with our closest friends and family, albeit fabulously elaborate. I still remember how Jorge shook his head in disbelief the entire evening.

  Initially, he had been shocked about the culmination of Peter’s and my relationship. But pleased altogether, proudly toting the fact that he had been our matchmaker. During his best man’s speech, Jorge fought back tears, and I had burst out crying while he was speaking, which prompted him to shed a single manly tear. I didn’t tell him that it was mostly because of the wild pregnancy hormones that made me laugh and cry at the drop of a hat.

  The next few months were hectic as Peter and I frantically prepared and studied how to be parents. And when the time came, I gave birth to our beautiful little girl, Michele Ariadne Lennox. I thought it was weird to name her after me, but Peter insisted, saying she was going to grow up just as beautiful and wonderful as her mother. His absolute confidence in that statement warmed my heart, so I let him.

  The other day, I overheard my daughter telling Brie that I named her ‘Michele’ so that she would grow up to be the best musician ever and that her daddy would’ve named her ‘Peter’ if she were born a boy. Brie responded that someone told her her parents ate too much cheese so they had no choice but to name her ‘Brie.’ Children really were so strange.

  Thankfully, I had Teresa to freak out with since we went through our pregnancies together. And now that our children were older, we switched off babysitting duties so each of us had time to relax or do date nights.

  With raising a kid and managing our careers, Peter and I were busier than ever since neither of us quit our work. We couldn’t because we just wouldn’t be the same without it. So the times we managed to get some time to ourselves were rare and precious.

  Like today.

  As soon as we passed the threshold of our room, I grabbed Peter’s collar and pulled him in for a wet, needy kiss.

  My tongue flicked teasingly at his lip, and he groaned lightly into my mouth.

  “Happy birthday, my love,” I whispered before deepening our kiss.

  He didn’t respond, instead pushing me against the door. His hands slid down, cupping my ass and hoisting me up so his excited member was rubbing against my entrance.

  “That was quick,” I teased.

  “I can never get enough of you,” he breathed, sliding his hands under my sundress.

  “Even after having a baby?”

  “Especially after having a baby,” he corrected, pulling away and giving me his lopsided grin. “Seeing our daughter always reminds me how I made the right choice.”

  “What choice was that?”

  “Com
ing back to you,” Peter murmured as he trailed kisses down my neck. “Not getting on that plane after the night we first met.”

  “Ah, right, and that long week we missed out on potentially the best sex of our lives.”

  He chuckled, the vibrations of his deep laughter sending shivers against my neck and down my spine. “I thought we made up for it during our honeymoon.”

  “Never,” I whispered, pulling him back in for a kiss.

  He held me tightly as he walked over to our bed and laid me down on it, his hot, sturdy body leaning onto me. He teasingly thrusted his hips into mine, and a soft moan escaped me, desire flaring through my blood and pooling between my thighs. His lips nuzzled the hollow of my neck, a heated tickling sensation that burned my skin and heightened my need for more. I threaded my fingers into his soft hair and wrapped my legs around him.

  “I want,” I mumbled incoherently, my mind hazy with lust.

  “What is it you want, Mrs. Lennox?” He slid down, dotting a path of kisses between my breasts to my belly.

  “You. In me,” I said, biting my lip, knowing fully well it drove him crazy.

  “Are you suggesting we make another baby?” he teased.

  I exhaled. “I don’t know if we can handle that.”

  “Right,” Peter said, diving down and softly biting my lip. “I don’t spend enough time with you as it is.”

  “And not nearly enough sex during the time we do have together.”

  He chuckled. “We should take a second honeymoon to make up all that sex we’ve missed out on.”

  I laughed before he swooped back in for another kiss. His lips caressed mine, softly nipping and sucking.

  He pulled away and slowly took my dress off, his eyes taking in every inch of my skin. My body wasn’t the same after childbirth, and I was still self–conscious about the stretch marks that scarred my belly. I always felt the urge to cover them with my hands, but as though Peter knew what was on my mind, he dipped down, pressing his lips against each fading jag.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, his mouth tracing fiery hot tingles up my body.

  He made his way back up to my lips and kissed me deeply and passionately. His hand snaked behind my back and snapped my bra off. It flew across the room as he tossed it like it offended him. His hands cupped my breasts, squeezing and massaging as he ran his thumbs over my nipples. I moaned at the pressure swirling within the mounds of my chest

  Peter broke our kiss to move down, his eyes dark and hazy with desire. Then he smirked as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. His hot, wet mouth tightly sucked on my sensitive nipples, jolting excitement through my body. I gasped and arched my back into him, moaning as his tongue swirled on and around my nubs.

  He yanked the waistband of my panties down until they dangled off my ankles and slid his hand all the way up my legs to the pooling wetness between my thighs. He moved his mouth to my other nipple and nipped lightly with his teeth, his fingers tracing my wet slit before slipping inside.

  I moaned, feeling him fill me as he pushed two fingers in and out of me at a tantalizingly slow speed. My walls twitched as he massaged against them. Each thrust rubbed a slow building coil in my sex. He lazily smiled at me, his mouth still wetly sucking my breast.

  He popped up, kissing my shoulder, my neck, before settling on my lips. His kisses were slow and deep, his lips teasing me and his tongue flicking at the opening of my mouth. His fingers started picking up speed, thrusting faster and faster until I was on the verge of climaxing. My breath hitched until I was gasping his name over and over again.

  “Yes?” he murmured, nibbling on my ear.

  “I need you inside me,” I pleaded.

  “I want to watch you cum first,” he said, his fingers expertly stroking the insides of my walls.

  “I want us to cum together,” I begged, although it came out more as a whine.

  “But it’s my birthday,” he laughed, the sound deep and low in his throat. “I think I get what I want first.”

  Defiant lust flared in me, the need for him to fully fill me and pump himself inside me overwhelming my body.

  I grabbed his collar, pulling him down as I whispered seductively into his ear, “I want – no, I need – your long, hard cock all the way inside of me –”

  He groaned, his fingers halting their movement inside me.

  “– as you shoot all of your hot, delicious cum into my pussy and pump me full of your babies.”

  His breathing hitched, and he cursed softly, pushing himself upright as his wet fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. He impatiently stripped each layer of clothes off. When his pants slid off, his erect cock swung up enticingly, bouncing against his taut stomach.

  “Fuck,” Peter groaned, a rejuvenated lust in his eyes as he soaked in the sight of me, sprawled naked in front of him.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “Fuck me.”

  He grabbed my thighs and yanked me down until our hips collided, his cock sitting on my lower belly. He guided the tip of his head down, rubbing it up and down my slit. The dew of precum on his cock mixed with my own wetness, and he exhaled slowly as he slid all the way inside of me.

  We stilled for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes as we relished the feeling of becoming one. Then he leaned forward onto me, and his cock pushed deep inside, stretching me completely. I whimpered under him, and he looked deeply into my eyes as he started moving. Each thrust slid his hard, velvety cock against my slippery wet walls, both satiating our sexual desire and igniting it further.

  I wrapped my arms around him. His head nudged against the opening of my womb, and he started thrusting faster, his hips slapping against mine.

  Peter gazed intensely at me, panting. The sweet, tight tension building inside inside my core coiled tighter with each thrust until I was about to reach the climax. I moaned right as I approached the peak.

  “I love you,” I breathed as my climax overtook me.

  He thrusted faster and harder, groaning beautifully.

  “God, I love you,” he said, grunting as I felt him twitch inside me, ropes of cum pelting and pooling inside my vagina. He took a deep breath, his cheeks flushed after his orgasm. “So much.”

  His cock pulsed, squeezing out every last drop, and then he collapsed onto me.

  I traced lazy circles onto his back, relishing the feeling of him still inside of me, and he breathed heavily into the crook of my neck.

  “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” his voice muffled from my shoulder.

  I giggled. “That’s what you say every time.”

  He chuckled.

  “Cancel the reservation for Alléchant,” I murmured into his ear. He lazily turned his head towards me. “Let’s call in a pie from Lombardi’s.”

  He hummed in pleasure. “Are we reliving our anniversary night?”

  “Yupp. And it’s your birthday. Is there anything you want?”

  Peter raised his head and kissed me gently, and a flutter of butterflies danced in my belly. It amazed me how we spent this many years together already, and the prospect that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives only excited and warmed my heart.

  He nuzzled against my neck, his embrace tightening around me, and as he spoke, his voice was soft and satisfied.

  “I have everything I want right here.”

  FROM THE AUTHOR

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  VIC’S SCRIBBLES

  This is actually my second work, and I thought it almost natural to share the story of Maria’s parents! After all, I had been thinking about it while writing Redeeming You.

  Michele and Peter hold a dear place in my heart. They actually started out super weird, and I got more than a few prodding jests about it, but in the end, they came through! And I had a lot of fun writing about Jorge as well. He just about may be my favorite character. Haha!

  This was meant to be a novella, a shorter work compared to my other books, and I tried finishing it succinctly. There’s just so much to their story that I’m a little rueful to leave it so short!

  I hope you loved this lovely musical couple just as much as I do.

  I couldn't have done this without many people, so a big shout out to everyone who contributed and supported me throughout the making of this book.

  To my beta readers and ARC team. Your words are so precious and meaningful to me and your support irreplaceable.

  And to all who've worked with me behind the scenes, xoxo. Rain, your hilarious commentary and insight were an unparalleled pain in my side, but this book couldn't be what it is without you. Cheers!

  Also to my anonymous helper wizards who didn’t want to be named. You know who you are and how much I appreciate you!

  Thank you!

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