Page 20 of False Start: Chicago Engines (Gridiron Warriors #3)

Georgia

“Georgie, are you ready to go? We need to—” Weston cut off sharply as he wandered into our walk-in closet to find me in nothing but a lacy thong I’d found when I decided to clean out my shelves.

“I might have distracted myself from packing,” I admitted, turning to face him and enjoying the way his eyes dropped to my chest.

“We’re catching a later flight,” he growled, stalking through the room and scooping me into his arms.

“Did I make us late again?” I asked, grinning unrepentantly as he strode toward our king-sized bed.

“No, but I’m about to.” He tossed me in the middle of the mattress, crawling after me with a hungry look in his eye.

“Blair is expecting us there in time for the dress rehearsal.”

Weston flicked a glance at the window, then got busy settling between my thighs. “Our flight was delayed by a snow storm. Nothing to be done but wait it out. Now, how about you ride my face?”

I lifted my hips and let him slide the thong down my legs, shivering as he kissed his way from ankle to the crease of my thigh. Without conscious thought, I let my knees drop open and thrust a hand through his hair as he took the invitation and drove his tongue deep into my aching pussy.

He had suggested cutting his hair off after his official retirement from football, but I’d nixed it immediately. He saw things my way as soon as I mentioned how much I enjoyed holding it while he ate me out.

“West,” I whined, lifting my hips to meet his tongue as pleasure flooded my system, lighting me up from the inside out.

“What do you need, princess?” he asked, lapping at my clit with firm strokes of his tongue.

“I want you inside me.”

He sucked my folds into his mouth, pushing two fingers into my pussy as deep as he could go.

“You want to come on my cock?”

“Yes,” I groaned, tugging on his hair until he crawled up over me.

“You want me to fuck you nice and deep?”

“And hard,” I said, working his zipper open.

“And hard,” he agreed, and pushed his jeans down over his ass.

Despite his retirement, Weston had continued to train like he still played professional football, and I was certain that Weston Naylor’s ass dot com would still appreciate what he had going on back there.

But these days it was only for my viewing pleasure.

I cried out as he hooked his hands behind my knees and pulled me beneath him, fully seating himself in one hard thrust.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, driving into me in powerful strokes that caused sparks to flash across my vision. “God, yes,” I cried, digging my nails into his back and groaning as he sank his teeth into my shoulder in retaliation.

“Fuck, you feel so good, princess. Tell me you’re close. I want to feel you come all over me.”

“I’m close. I’m — yes. There. Please.” I babbled incoherently as he thumbed my clit and pushed me into a mind-numbing orgasm.

He rode out my shudders, slowing his pace until I stilled before chasing his own release. When we were finished, he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a warm washcloth to clean me up before he began packing both our bags to head to the airport.

“I have a confession to make,” he said as we retrieved our bags from the back of the Uber.

“I booked our flight for an hour later than I told you. Just in case.”

I wanted to yell at him, but seeing as I’d made us miss every flight we’d taken in the last twelve months, I didn’t have the track record to argue with his logic.

“You’re lucky I love you,” I grumbled half-heartedly. He chuckled and pressed a kiss on my cheek before leading the way into the terminal.

As we waited for our boarding call, Weston’s phone pinged with a text.

“Wayne says good luck at the wedding.” He huffed a laugh. “And to make sure you catch the bouquet so Weston makes an honest woman out of you.”

Wayne Desmond had turned out to be the last piece to our little found family. He had become a father figure to Weston as he navigated his new career as a sports commentator, introducing him to the who’s who of the media and ensuring Weston’s transition was as smooth and drama free as possible.

His daughter, Sophie, had made fast friends with Amber and Zara, and the pair had even submitted their own entries for the over-the-fence bakeoffs that Weston and Amber still held.

“I’ve never met anyone more in love with love. Especially seeing as he doesn’t have anyone himself.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s living vicariously,” West murmured as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

Our flight passed uneventfully, and in no time we were pulling up in front of Blair and Cian’s house. As I took a step toward the house, Weston caught my hand.

“Wait. Before we go in there, I want to tell you something.”

I waited patiently as he tucked one hand in his pocket and squeezed my fingers gently.

“I told you once that I’d always have your back,” he started, and I smiled, thinking of how much he’d proven the fact over the last twelve months.

“There was a period there where I don’t think I did a very good job of it, but on the other side of it you proved that you’re a force of nature.

You are more than I could have ever dreamed of in a partner, and I’m so damn lucky to call you mine.

I know it isn’t the right time, and I know I could have made it more special, but I also know that this might make it just that bit easier to walk through that door.

Georgie, I love you more than I can ever express. Would you marry me?”

He pulled his hand from his pocket, holding out a beautiful emerald and diamond ring set in yellow gold.

“You just had to ask.” I gave him a cheeky grin, because what else could I say when the love of my life offered me forever?

He pulled me against him, stroking his tongue along my lips until I opened to him as he slipped the ring onto my finger. Light spilled across us as the front door opened and my sister let out a wolf whistle loud enough to wake the neighbors.

“Get a room or come inside for drinks, you two. It’s party time!”

I broke away from Weston with a laugh, noting the genuine look of happiness on my sister’s face as she watched us.

“So… after tomorrow, how do you feel about planning another wedding?” I asked, holding up my hand.

“Fuck yes,” she cried, bolting down the walk to tackle me in a hug. Her giant dog, Seelie, sat in the doorway, watching us as we slowly made our way back to the house.

My heart felt big enough to burst as Weston placed a possessive hand on my back.

Tomorrow was my sister’s wedding day.

I’d just agreed to marry the love of my life.

Shifting Sands had kept me on as a regular character, even after I testified against Denny Hayes and had the pleasure of hearing him sentenced to several decades of imprisonment.

My reality had become everything it had taken me most of my life to realize I deserved.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

***

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