#braden carmichael

[lilybookaholic]

Claro que podía ponerse difícil a veces, pero la vida no era una película de Hollywood. Cosas malas pasaban. Tú luchas, gritas y de alguna manera trabajas como loco para salir del otro lado aún intacta.

Samantha Young - On Dublin Street.

[ambanicole6]

I brushed my lips over his. “Happy Valentine’s Day number twelve, Braden.” He kissed me back and whispered, “Here’s to the next sixty.

[ambanicole6]

Do you still feel the way you felt about me when we first got together?” He stared at me, his eyes searching mine. “No,” he said quietly, as though it was obvious, and my breath caught. “I feel more.” He took my hand in his,sliding his fingers through mine. “You’re a part of me now in a way you weren’t when we first fell in love. It was just a connection then. A hot, exciting, sexy as fuck connection.” He grinned at me, the memories dancing in his eyes. “Now it’s a full blown fusion. A hot, deep, sexy as fuck fusion. If something had happened back then… if it hadn’t worked out… it would have floored me but I would have eventually gotten back up and started living again. Life would have been emptier but I would have gotten on with it. “Now.” He pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. “Losing you would be like losing myself.

[ambanicole6]

Do you love me, Jocelyn?” he murmured in my ear, and goosebumps awakened at the back of my ear and all the way down my neck and spine. A long time ago that question would have sent me scurrying from the room. I remembered that fear, those feelings, but they felt somehow separate from me… like I remembered them as though they were felt by a very good friend of mine—as though it all happened to a very good friend of mine—rather than to me. I turned my cheek, caressing my face against his, feeling the slight prickle of stubble on his cheeks. “No one could love you more, baby.”

[ambanicole6]

My being pregnant did not turn off my husband. In fact it seemed to flip as much of a horny teenager switch in him as it did me. He got all caveman and possessive. In fact he might as well have worn a T-shirt with the words “Me Man. Me Put Seed In My Woman’s Belly. My Woman. Mine!” on it.

Jocelyn Carmicheal

[ambanicole6]

What do you want to talk about until the flight is called?" "Cold wind. Sleet. The ugly doorman at Club 39. Porridge." I burst out laughing. "You mean anything that won’t give you an erection?" He smiled at me, his eyes roaming my face lovingly. "Maybe we should just stop talking altogether. And put a bag over your head. And cover your legs." "Just don’t look at me." "I can still smell you." "I could move." "Dare move away from me and I’ll put you over my knee, Wife." "That doesn’t sound so bad.

[ambanicole6]

I’m going to make you come shopping with me for maternity clothes." "I can handle it. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to you having a bump." He smoothed a hand across my stomach, something he’d taken to doing a lot. "My bump? Why?" "It’s a caveman thing," he joked. "Elaborate." I repeated his word back at him. "When every man sees our bump, they’ll know I was the one you let inside you, they’ll know you’re mine and I’m yours, and that growing inside you is our kid.

[ambanicole6]

I love you, you love me, our family loves us and they’re right here beside us. Nothing else matters . So no fears for the future, no fear that you’ll fuck it up beyond repair. Life isn’t perfect, we aren’t perfect, but I’m telling you now, Jocelyn, we’re indestructible. Stop shaking, and just marry me.