Finding Forever

Chapter 23

Three and a half years later

The receptionist greets me, clicking away on a keyboard before I walk into Ryan's bright, sunny corner office. He opened an extension of his father's firm, Owen's Law Office LLP, in the Los Angeles area, leaving his brother Reggie sole ownership of the location in Sacramento. After our trip to Paris, France, Ryan transferred from Yale to UCLA to be closer to me.  His father, Reginald, took a long time to accept Ryan's decision to leave Yale. Up until his graduation last spring, things remained tense between them. But after Ryan was awarded a commencement medal for his stellar academic performance and his father saw how happy we were together, he eased up. Ryan is now a patent attorney. He decided not to follow in his father's footsteps like Reggie did to practice corporate law. Instead, he specializes in representing clients in obtaining patents. He loves what he does just as much as I love my new job as a Senior Animation Artist for Disney.

After I accepted my promotion only a few short months ago, we bought our first condo together in West Hollywood. Before that, we'd rented a one-bedroom apartment while Ryan was in law school. Once our careers started taking off, we decided we should probably start adulting correctly and invest in a place to call home. 

He smiles when he sees me. "Hey there, beautiful girlfriend of mine."

I lean over his desk and kiss him on the lips. "Are you ready to cut out of work early to nerd it up?"

Ryan laughs and bites down on his lower lip. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest, amusement twinkling in his dark eyes. I will never get tired of seeing him in a three-piece suit. One of the many benefits of having a boyfriend who's a lawyer. His offensive graphic t-shirts are for weekends only.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm still catching up on all these files," he motions to a stack of paper files on the corner of his desk. "It's not my fault I was late to work this morning," he whispers, flashing a smile and trying his best to smoulder me.

Honestly, it doesn't take much. No matter how many years pass, his smile will always melt my panties off.  

I stop, admiring my painting of the Golden Gate Bridge I promised him our freshman year, now hanging on the wall behind him, and then look down to toy with him.  "Oh, I'm sorry, I won't wake you up that way ever again. Is that what you'd prefer?"  A thrill runs from my chest, down my belly, and between my legs when my mind flashes to the sweet memory of climbing over top of Ryan this morning to feel him inside me. I couldn't resist. He just looked so...perfect. 

"So, what you're saying then is that you'd rather be woken up by a beeping alarm instead of my mouth?"

"Maybe." He teases.

My eyebrows raise, a smile curling onto my mouth. I step closer, and he leans back further in his chair. His eyes travelled the entire length of my body from my feet to my eyes. "Or that you'd rather shower all alone?"

"Obviously. Who wouldn't," he smirks, lying through his teeth.

"Or that you'd rather catch a few extra z's instead of asking me to do that thing you like?"

He runs a hand along his chin in false contemplation. "Yeah, if it meant making it to my office on time."

He closes his eyes as I lean in close, grazing my lips over his jaw, "So you'd never want me to wake you up to do those very, very dirty things to you ever again?"

He sucks in a sharp breath. "God, I love you so fucking much, Ella." Images from the morning pull me deep into the hungry, achy place I practically live in whenever I am with Ryan. I remember his rough hands and commanding voice telling me exactly what he wanted me to do. I remember my hands tugging his hair, my body moving over his for hours, his voice finally low and begging for my kisses, and harder and faster and more.

"I suppose I could enjoy a few more late mornings," he admits. "Actually, I may have been more productive than usual today because of your magical mouth." He kisses me and returns to his computer, smiling as he finishes typing an email and then turns back to face me. "Did you bring your costume?"

"It's in the car."

"When do you plan on getting changed?" he asks, confused. "I've got mine hanging behind my office door to get changed before we go."

"I wasn't planning on letting you see my costume until we get there," I say, strutting around the front of his desk just to tease him a little bit more with my backside. "It's a surprise."

"Whatever. Just be prepared to wait in a long bathroom line-up."

He stands up and gives a playful smack to my backside before unhooking his costume bag from the back of his office door. 

"I'm so excited," I murmur, leaning into his shoulder. I nod to the bag draped over his arm. "Seeing you dressed up in a black vest and tight pants with riding boots is sooooo sexy."

"How nerdy of you to be so into costume play."

"I'm serious. Seeing you transform into a fictional man from a galaxy far, far away may cause my ovaries to burst."

"Don't get too excited just yet." Ryan looks over at me, bends to kiss my nose, and whispers, "My receptionist is still here for the afternoon, and I am not sending her home early just to bend you over my desk unless you're in full costume, too."

"You're like a Jedi in the streets and Sith in the sheets, huh?"

He laughs. "Exactly." And kisses my nose. "Are you ready to go?"

I hum, kissing him again. "Yes, let's go."

I stare up at him — at the familiar dark lashes and dark brown eyes, at his five o'clock shadow, and the goofy smile he's been wearing since I woke him up five hours ago with my mouth on his cock.

"You do realize your costume isn't a surprise, right? I know what you're wearing and who you are dressing up as. You may as well just get changed here," he suggests. 

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure my costume will blow your socks off."

He shrugs, clearing a bit of the love-struck gleam in his eyes. "Of course, I'd prefer that we walk into Comic-Con already dressed as Hans Solo and Princess Leia, but I get that you may not want to drive to San Diego in a white robe with two big-ass buns on either side of your head. I'm just excited we're finally able to do this. And that you were so willing to be a geek-o-rama with me."

"Who said I was wearing a white robe?" I whisper seductively.

He leans in eagerly, whispering back, "Don't even tease me with the idea of you dressed as slave Leia unless you mean it."

"Oh, I mean it. Golden bra and all."

With a smile, he murmurs, "Jesus Christ, Ella. If this is your way of celebrating our fourth anniversary –"

"Eight," I correct, always insisting I was his from the first day he walked into my dorm room.

"Fine. Have it your way, eight. Then I need you to get changed into that naughty outfit right now so I can have my way with you before we drive anywhere. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure I won't make it."

My smile straightens, my eyes moving over his face. I kiss him once and then again. "Your wish is my command," I pause and bite my bottom lip before whispering, "Master."

He pulls back to look at me for a long, heavy beat. "Fuck. I love you so much. Not only are you the best girlfriend, you're the best damn friend I've ever had. I may have to marry you."

I stare up at him, my chest suddenly so tight it is hard to breathe.

"Okay," I whisper.

He leans forward and kisses me. "Probably sooner than later. I hope you're ready for it. Four years, I mean eight," he winks. "I think it's about time I made you my wife."

I lean forward and rest my nose against his, wrapping my shaking hands around his neck.

"I think that would be a pretty good idea."

THE END

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