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He’s early.
He can’t help it, he’s just very excited! He’s taking Alex Kingston on a date. They’ve been on many dates now; so many he’s lost count. He said he’d pick her up at seven; it is half past six and he’s standing outside her door. He just can’t wait to see her.
He knocks on the door, but she doesn’t reply. He frowns. He’d have thought she’d still answer the door to him if he’s early; perhaps she didn’t hear. He tries again.
Convinced she is not going to let him in herself, he searches his pockets for her spare key and lets himself in.
“Alex?” He calls out as he looks around, kicking the door shut with his heel. “I know I’m early but ... where are you?” He wanders up the hallway towards her bedroom.
Slowly pushing the door open he hears the sound of running water and instantly recognises that she is in the en-suite shower. He is about to turn back, head to the kitchen to place the colourful flowers he bought her into a vase, when he spots something out of the corner of his eye.
He gazes at her mirror, on the opposite side of the room, which reflects her wall length wardrobe. And there, hanging from one of the handles, is a new red and black lacy corset. He steps inside her room; listening out for the shower to stop, and he finds stockings, suspenders and a tiny pair of knickers to go with it.
Hanging beside the corset is a long, sleek, black dress that he knows fits her figure perfectly. He’s seen her in that dress a number of times; it’s one of his favourites, but seeing her in it tonight and knowing what she is wearing underneath it, is likely to send him insane. He decides then and there that they can skip the starter and leave before dessert.
He is running his fingers over the delicate lace at the neckline of her corset, biting his lip, when he hears her moan from the bathroom. He knows that sound; he knows it well; it’s the sound she makes when his hand or face is between her legs, or as he buries himself deep inside her.
He’s moving before he even knows what he’s doing; making a beeline for the en-suite door and pushing it open a little. Through the steam and the frosted glass of the shower he can tell exactly what she is doing and suddenly he’s not sure he’ll make it through even just the main course; perhaps they can have their date here tonight.
They’ve toyed with the idea of filming themselves, so that they have something to help them remember each other by when they are oceans apart, but they haven’t actually done that yet and Matt spends most of his nights, when she has gone back to LA, imagining the feel of her skin and the taste of her; but watching her would make his daydreams all the more vivid.
He doesn’t need to think about it twice; he pulls his phone from his pocket and opens the camera, setting it to film. God, she could send him over the edge with the sounds she is making alone. His camera picks up her shape through the mist and it is obvious what she is doing from her movement and those sinful noises. He can’t believe she’s his; she is so sexy and hot and amazing - and beautiful and caring and wonderful; but it’s harder to think about those aspects right at this moment.
He films her until she whimpers his name with her release and he closes the camera with a smirk, tucking his phone back in his pocket and backing out of her room until he finds himself in the kitchen. He takes a few deep breaths to get himself under control before finding that vase for her flowers.
“Oh,” he hears her surprised voice from behind him as he arranges the flowers on her dining table. “You’re early, darling.”
“I am so terribly sorry,” he grins as he turns to see her, gesturing to the table, “but I bought you flowers.”
“And they’re lovely,” she murmurs, pinning her second earring to her ear as she steps into him and places a delicate ‘hello’ kiss to his lips, “but I’m not quite as ready as I’d like to be. Would you mind...”
“Not at all.”
“You don’t know what I was going to ask...”
“Would I mind waiting a little longer,” he winks, “For you, Kingston, I’d wait forever.”
She smiles warmly at that and gestures to the sofa, “Make yourself at home; I think there’s footie on TV.”
“I’m always at home here,” he replies to her receding form as he flops onto the sofa cushions and flicks on the TV, “Surely you know that by now.”
His phone vibrates in his pocket and he checks it in case it’s family.
Daisy’s name pops up on the screen and he hurriedly opens it.
‘Hey, how are you? What you up to? Dx’
He frowns at the easiness of her text. A few days ago he had received a message from her to tell him that her mother had been taken into hospital; and as they had been going out for years, before she realised he was more in love with his co-star than he’d ever be with her, she thought he might like to know.
‘I’m fine, how are you holding up? Mx’ he replies and drops his phone back in his pocket just as Alex appears before him once more.
“Ready?” He asks, beaming.
“Ready,” she replies, holding out her hand to help him off the sofa.
She looks incredible and he knows she is even more delicious beneath that dress. He can’t wait to get her back home after their meal, tear her dress off and ravish her in those stunning new lingerie.
The little Italian restaurant is quite quiet and they find a table near the window. He orders himself lemonade; as he’s driving, and treats Alex to a large glass of their best rosé wine. Alex doesn’t agree to skipping their starter so they share garlic bread covered in melted cheese; not caring that their breath will smell bad as they will only smell as bad as each other.
They chat and laugh and flirt like they have always done and at that moment neither of them can see themselves ever living without one another. They are happy. Sure, occasionally they come across a few blips in their relationship, but who doesn’t; it only makes them stronger.
His phone vibrates again as their starter is served and he resists looking at it until their empty plate it taken away.
“Sorry, Alex,” he mutters as he pulls his phone out. It is Daisy again, but he decides to ignore it until later.
“Who is it?” Alex asks in concern, taking a sip of her wine.
“No one,” he shakes his head and places his phone face down on the edge of the table, “nothing important.” He lifts his eyes to hers and smiles, nodding toward the glass in her hands, “May I?”
“Oh, of course,” she hands him her glass and he takes a tiny taste. “It’s nice,” she remarks before he can form his own opinion, “light and fruity; I like it.”
“I’m glad,” he places her glass back on her side of the table, humming, “it is nice. Next time you can drive.”
“Deal,” she giggles, taking another swig.
“Steady on, Alex,” he chuckles, “I don’t want you drunk tonight; I’ll be taking advantage.”
“Oh darling,” she purrs, “you took advantage of me a long time ago.”
“In that case,” he twists in his seat to call the waiter over, “let’s order you another glass,” he winks.
“Do you like me better when I’m drunk?” she asks flirtatiously, quirking an eyebrow.
“I love you drunk or sober,” he replies before speaking to the waiter, “another rosé please?” then focuses his attention back to the beautiful woman in front of him. “Sleepy or awake ... hungry or stuffed,” she suppresses a naughty giggle, “smiling or tearful ... playful or serious ... dominant or submissive...”
“Oh, Matthew, shush,” she places her hand over his mouth to quieten him and he leans over the table, kissing at her fingers until she replaces them with her lips and she hums in delight.
“I love you,” he whispers against her mouth.
“I love you, too,” she replies and they part with stupid smiles they cannot wipe from their faces.
She raises her glass to her lips and drains it, just as the waiter brings her the next one. She thanks him and takes a sip to check it’s still to her liking before contentedly setting it on the white, satin tablecloth.
“I’m just gonna spend a penny before our meal arrives,” Matt drops his dusty blue napkin to the table as he stands and winks at her again before striding across the restaurant.
She chuckles at his phrasing and focuses her attention on the people wandering around outside.
There’s a young girl, maybe in her early twenties, looking at dresses in shop windows as she walks past; a couple kissing on the corner and no doubt whispering sweet nothings in each others’ ear; a young man does a double take as he walks past a jewellery store, going back to take a closer look at some of the rings they have on offer; and a sweet family almost dance down the street, a girl on her daddy’s shoulders while a slightly older looking boy and his mother talk animatedly.
She smiles as she turns away, sighing wistfully, absently drinking her wine until Matt’s phone vibrates again at the end of the table, distracting her. Glancing around quickly, she reaches across and grabs it. She knows she shouldn’t look through his phone, but it’s not like she’s planning on opening it and reading all his messages; she just wants to know whose texts they are.
She presses a button and the screen lights up to show two texts from Daisy.
‘I’m hanging in there. Dx’
‘Glad I can talk to you though. Dx’
She hurriedly drops the phone back where she had picked it up, her heart dropping to her stomach. Why was he texting Daisy when she’d specifically asked him not to?
He comes back round the corner at that moment and she tries to return his smile, but he notices something is wrong.
“Hey, what’s up?” he takes his seat and spreads his napkin over his knees again.
“Nothing,” she mumbles, watching her finger tracing the rim of her glass.
Their main course is served and there’s little time to talk between mouthfuls, so they eat in silence. Usually this would be fine, they’re comfortable enough with each other to eat without chatting, but he can feel the tension and she senses him looking up at her in concern every so often.
“Alex, please?” he says at length, “tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong,” she snaps.
He drops his fork to his plate, deciding they need to talk more than they need to finish eating. “I only went to the toilet and I come back and you’re all...”
“All what?” she challenges him.
“Moody,” he gestures with his arms as he speaks, “What have I done?”
“I thought,” she huffs; she doesn’t want to be this person; she doesn’t want to be jealous and controlling when it comes to her and Matt; she wants to be able to trust him to the ends of the Earth. She thought it was only Daisy she didn’t trust. “I thought I asked you not to talk to her anymore.”
“Who?”
“You know who, Matt,” she raises her voice and a couple of other customers look up from their meals. She ducks her head, saying her name through gritted teeth, “Daisy. Lowe.”
He frowns. “Did you just look through my phone when I...”
“No!” She retorts in outrage, “I didn’t look through your phone, Matt, I just wanted to see who was texting you; as you were being so secretive about it.”
He opens his phone and reads Daisy’s texts, then begins to type out a reply.
“Matthew?” Alex gasps in horror. “What are you doing?”
“Replying,” he doesn’t even look up.
“Why?” she feels tears come to her eyes. No, damn it, she will not cry.
“Because she needs me.”
“I need you, Matt.”
“Of course, but your mother isn’t in hospital is she?”
He presses send and his phone starts ringing in his hand.
“Don’t you dare answer that,” Alex warns.
He ignores her, standing as he answers, allowing his napkin to drop to the floor as he turns quickly and steps out through the door.
She sits back in her seat with her arms crossed tightly across her body as she tries to get her emotions under control. With her brow furrowed and thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose, she huffs in frustration before calling for the bill and downing the remainder of her wine.
Matt returns to the table, pocketing his phone just as she finishes paying.
“I was going to do that,” he complains.
“I’m leaving,” she states.
“What? Alex, no,” he grabs her wrist as she passes him, “don’t leave.”
“Let go of me,” she growls, staring at his fingers wrapped possessively around her wrist. He does and promptly follows her as she heads out of the restaurant and up the dimly lit street.
“Look, let me at least take you home and then we can talk about this.”
She hadn’t brought a coat tonight as she hadn’t been expecting to walk far and rather thought he would be warming her up all evening. There’s little chance she’ll let him touch her now though. But she agrees the car would be a better form of transport in this chill than her feet or a bus.
“Fine.”
He pleads with her most of the way home, attempting to get her to see that he would never cheat on her and that Daisy is only a friend and there is nothing going on between them.
“Bullshit,” she spits, staring through the glass as the drizzle now trickles down the passenger side window.
“Alex, she is with another man,” he reasons, “and they are more serious after four months than she and I were after four years.”
“I don’t care. That doesn’t mean you’re not talking to her. She’s trying to wiggle her way back into your life, Matt, she probably wants to keep you close in case it doesn’t work out and she can come back to you.”
“What?” he cries out in disbelief.
“That’s why I asked you last week to stop talking to her; that means texting, phoning, answering her phone calls...” she turns to him pointedly.
“That was Laura on the phone,” he thumps his hand against the steering wheel in his frustration; he should probably pull over to finish this argument; he can’t concentrate on driving.
“Yeah right, that was Laura,” she bellows, “I’m not stupid, Matt.”
“I never said...” he growls and pulls off to the side of a dark country lane, sticking his hazard lights on so they can still be seen. Turning to face her, he grabs her chin with one hand and forces her to look at him. “I never said you were stupid. That wasLaura; my sister. Daisy and I are over. I love you.”
“No,” she shouts, tearing herself from him, opening the door and dragging herself out into the rain. “You have no right to make that claim right now.” She storms to the front of the car and looks around her to see if she can recognise where they are and how far she’ll have to walk to get home.
He is out of the car seconds after her, rounding to the front to fix this.
“You’re blowing this all out of proportion,” he says, and regrets it instantly.
“I’m what?” she glares at him, curls swinging around her face and becoming heavy with the rainwater.
“I mean...”
“She was in your life for four fucking years, Matt. I’ve known you for just over three and we have only been together for not even half of it. She is so engrained into your life that you’re never going to let her go. Are you?”
He can’t tell now if she’s crying or if it’s rain drops running down her cheeks, but he sincerely hopes it’s just the rain. “It doesn’t matter...” he begins, attempting to explain that it doesn’t matter how long they were together if his love for her is stronger than it ever was for Daisy.
“Of course it bloody matters! Matt, I love you and I thought you loved me ... but if you’re answering phone calls from her in the middle of a date with me then I guess I must mean nothing to you...”
“It wasn’t Daisy!”
“Shut up,” she snaps, “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Alex, please,” he reaches out to her and she turns away sharply. “I love you so much; you’re so beautiful and kind, funny and charming ... and sexy...”
“Don’t,” her eyes flash.
“But you are; I can see it now,” he implores her, “I saw it in the restaurant. I saw it when you were in the shower getting ready...”
“What?”
“I-I ... oh,” he ducks his head in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Well you said it - it’s out now - are you willing to explain yourself?” Her blood boils, hands on her hips, curls stuck to her face and mascara running. He still thinks she’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen.
“I was early,” he begins tentatively.
“I know!”
“You weren’t answering so I let myself in and discovered you were in the shower and then you moaned and I couldn’t stop myself,” he mutters quickly.
“Stop yourself?”
He nods; eyes downcast like a scolded puppy as he gives her his phone.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“I filmed you...”
“You did what?” she shrieks as she hurriedly opens his phone and searches his files for videos, clicking on the latest one and watching her shadow in the mist make the most obscene noises. She feels her ears heat up and a tingling between her legs and she curses, throwing the phone back at him with force. “How dare you.”
“Excuse me?”
“How dare you film me like that without my permission?”
“Alex, you’re my girlfriend, I’m sure I’m allowed...”
“Girlfriend?” she scoffs. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds; I’m almost fifty, Matt.”
“I don’t care...”
“I care! What if this gets out somehow? That’s why I never wanted to film us in the first place; if someone else gets their hands on that I’ll never live it down.” He tries to speak but she cuts him off, “I was supposed to be going on a lovely evening out with you and was just ... winding down before you arrived; I even bought new...”
“Oh that’s what you call it, is it? Winding down?” he finally snaps, stepping closer to her, but she doesn’t attempt to back away. “Well you sure as hell wound me up!”
“I didn’t do that on purpose,” she yells at him, their noses mere inches apart. “I didn’t even know you were there...”
“Well...”
“Quite surprising for you actually, you’re usually so clumsy,” she sneers at him, “I’d have thought I would have heard you coming a mile off.”
“Well, fuck you!” It’s all he can come up with. He loves this woman more than anything in the world; this is all just a simple misunderstanding, easily fixed, so why can’t he fix it? All he’s done is provide her with more ammo.
“Oh how eloquent of you, darling,” she draws out the pet name and he doesn’t like it.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t you like being called darling,” she taunts him.
“I love it when you call me ‘darling’, but not like that.”
“I’m sorry, darling.”
“Stop it!”
“Make me!”
He swears, pushing her away from him as he turns back to the car. This is stupid; they should get in the car, drive back home and discuss this rationally, like adults.
“Didn’t think so,” she mutters. She moves in the opposite direction, rage bubbling inside her like a volcano. She can’t feel the cold anymore, too numb, too angry. She will not get back in that car; not with him; she’d rather walk home. “I’m leaving,” she calls out over her shoulder, although she doesn’t really care whether he hears her or not.
He growls as he stalks back over to her. “God, you are so infuriating, woman.”
“Woman?” She spins and raises her eyebrows in awe that he actually just went there; he knows how much that pet name infuriates her. “Don’t you call me woman...”
“Would be a shame to ruin such fucking sexy underwear in the rain,” he interrupts her, grabbing her wrist again like he did in the restaurant, but with no intention of letting go. “I can think of some much better ways to ruin them.”
“Matthew Smith!”
“Shut up; you love it!”
She gasps in absolute shock and slaps her hand across his face, hard, in her fury.
It takes Matt only a second to recover from the blow and he swings her round, slamming her against the bonnet of the car and claiming her mouth.
It is a rough, bruising kiss and she thrashes, trying to push him off her. He leans his weight into her; hip to hip; chest to chest; and presses his lips harder against hers until she makes a small sound of pain, before pulling back and staring into her eyes, panting.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she yells in outrage.
“Helping you finish what you started,” he replies cockily and he dives in to bite at her neck and collarbone.
“Fuck!” she swears as she feels pain bloom out from where he has sunk his teeth into her skin. “You’ll pay for that.” She runs her hands up the seam of his shirt, scrunching the material tight in her hands before yanking hard and ripping the buttons apart.
“What are you doing?” he screeches, gaping down at his torn shirt.
“Take it off,” she demands and pulls him to her by the waistband of his trousers, before deftly undoing his belt. She slips it all the way out of the loops and smirks unintentionally as she feels the leather between her fingers.
“Don’t even think about it,” he nips her ear and tugs as he prises his belt from her tiny hands, throwing it on the ground far behind him and way out of her reach.
She pouts for a second but her fingers move to the button and zip of his trousers, unfastening them and shoving them roughly down his legs along with his boxers. “There he is,” she purrs, still an angry edge to her voice, “Hello friend.” Her eyes widen in delight and she licks her lips as she kneels before him, wrapping her dainty fingers around him and licking him from base to tip. “I like him,” she lifts her eyes to Matt’s, “I don’t like you right now, but I like him.”
His maddening chuckle is cut short as she takes him all the way into her mouth and moans. “Fuck, Alex.”
He fists his hands deep among her masses of curls, holding on tight so he can still have some control. There is no way he is letting an angry Alex have sole control over what her mouth does to his cock. He’s heard horror stories about her teeth and other men’s tongues...let alone ... yeah, well, it makes him wince to even think about it.
“Take him,” he says harshly, getting himself under control again, “If you like him that much, take him; take him all in and let him fuck your mouth.” He guides her head closer to his abdomen and she gags and pulls back. “Can’t take it? Poor thing,” he pouts mockingly, “Daisy could.”
His remark enrages her. She swipes her tongue over the tip, gathering the pre-cum there and growling before relaxing her jaw and taking him in further than he had just pushed her. She feels him hit the back of her throat and she swallows, before sucking in her cheeks and pulling back.
She sees his eyes flutter and she smirks before swallowing him again; she is going to win.
She gets her confidence back and his hand in her hair, forcing his cock deeper inside her mouth, becomes rather a turn on; it always did. She meets his assertiveness with her own; every time he presses his hips and her lips closer together, she takes it; she swallows, she sucks, she scrapes her teeth, she swirls her tongue and presses it against the vein on the underside until he is trembling above her.
Then, quite suddenly, she stops, pulls back and stands up before him; denying him what he is aching for most. She throws her head back and chuckles wickedly.
Her smug look is instantly wiped from her face as his lips crash into hers. She tugs on his hair as he hastily unzips her dress and pushes the straps from her shoulders, letting it pool on the ground. He takes a moment to admire her in her new underwear; red satin and black lace against the turquoise bonnet of the car, the rain coming down hard, turning into steam and rising again in a cloud around her. It’s an ethereal sight.
“What the fuck, Matt,” she shatters his beautiful vision, lifting her dress from the muddy puddle it had landed in. “You’ve ruined my dress,” her eyes are like daggers. But he takes it in his stride. If he truly loves this woman then her anger and resentment towards him is not going to dissuade him from her.
“Nothing you can do will ever stop me from loving you,” he sighs, taking her dress from her and dropping it again. She gasps in horror and he pounces.
He kisses her and bites her lower lip, revelling in the yelp he elicits from her. His knee presses up between her legs and she wastes no time in rocking her hips and grinding down against it. He drops his leg again and smirks as she whines.
“Stop fucking teasing me,” she tears her mouth from his and slaps him.
“I love it when you’re feisty,” he riles her.
She lifts her hand to strike him again but he catches it; and the other one that comes flying at him not a moment later; “That,” he presses a finger to the end of her nose, “is naughty.” He pushes her back until she is lying across the bonnet; heated by the engine, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand as the other travels down her body.
He presses his weight against her, keeping her in position; one leg between hers and kicking them wider. She can feel his hard length throbbing by the crease of her thigh, and she pants in anticipation.
He presses his fingers hard against her clit over her underwear and she cries out. Then he slides them delicately over the lace at her waistline before dipping underneath it and seeking out her wetness. He dances his fingers over her clit and circles her entrance as she squirms beneath him and she opens her mouth to scream at him in frustration when he plunges two long digits deep inside her.
“You still think I’m teasing?” he growls in her ear and she shakes her head vehemently. “Well,” he cackles harshly, “that’s where you’re wrong,” he pulls his fingers out before she has the chance to move her hips over them.
“You bastard,” she spits out, struggling against his hold on her wrists.
“You’re not getting away, Kingston,” he explains, all the tension from their argument finally getting to him. “You’ll not get rid of me that easily; and if you ever try to accuse me of cheating on you, or not loving you like I do, ever again...”
“Matt,” she whimpers, blinking rapidly as the rain falls across her face.
“I. Sodding. Love. You.” He rolls his hips against hers to emphasise each word and she moans. “I will literally drive those words into you until you believe me, because it makes me angry that you don’t.”
“You’re angry?”
“Yes! I’m fucking angry, Alexandra Kingston, with you; and now I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me with you wherever you go and you will never forget how much you mean to me and how I will do anything to keep you with me, forever.”
They both fall silent. Breathing heavily and staring into each others’ eyes. Nothing but the sound of the rain bouncing off the metal roof and bonnet.
“Understood?”
“Mmmhmm,” she nods, whispering, “yes.”
“Good,” he closes the gap between their lips and forces his tongue inside her mouth, pressing his hips harder against hers and she makes another tiny sound of anguish. His hand moves down between them once more and he takes himself in hand, moving her tiny knickers to the side before lining himself up quickly and thrusting hard until he is buried inside her.
Her mouth forms a silent scream as she stretches around him and he releases her hands, hiking one of her legs up over his hip before pounding into her.
She clings to his back, scraping her nails across it and leaving marks she knows will be there for days afterwards. His fingers hold her thighs so tight they’ll leave bruises as she wraps her legs around him and links her ankles together.
She rocks her hips in time with his ever increasing thrusts, biting and nipping at his neck and shoulders and lips, scratching his back and his scalp and tugging on his floppy mop of hair.
He hammers into her over and over; unrelenting; digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs as he lifts her legs to his shoulders and returns her nips with bites of his own. He bends his head, pulling a breast from the confines of her corset and sucking a nipple into his mouth; she arches into him in pleasure, before he clamps his teeth down and she screams; yanking his head away from her heaving chest and kissing him until the need to breathe consumes them.
She shudders in his arms as her orgasm takes over, but he doesn’t stop; he drops her legs and orders her to turn around, pushing her down until her corset clad breasts and stomach are pressed against the hot bonnet, then spreading her legs and sinking into her once more.
With him standing behind her she is helpless to do anything but push her hips back and meet him thrust for thrust. She tries slipping her hand down between her legs but that earns her a shocking smack to the backside.
“Did you like that?” He asks; a mix of delight and curiosity in his voice. She’s not going to dignify that with an answer. He smacks her again and, goddamn it, she whimpers. “Ah, you do like it.” She can hear the triumphant smile in his voice. And she bites back a moan. “That’s one point up on Daisy.”
This side of Matt scares her a little, but not nearly as much as it turns her on. She was wrong; oh she was so wrong about him. He would never leave her for Daisy; or for any other woman for that matter. He’s kind and caring and loving; and he loves her; like she loves him. But what about when he’s angry and frustrated and his dick is controlling his actions. A man drugged by lust and anger can be very dangerous.
He hits her again as he pounds into her from behind and she feels a tear run down her cheek as she comes again. The fluttering and clamping down of her sex around him, along with her scream of his name, causes his release; he thrusts his hips deep inside her and comes hard, her name falling from his lips.
He pulls out and collapses next to her, helping her as she rolls back over and they lay there, partially entwined, half naked, soaked to the bone and sticky on his car bonnet as they attempt to get their breathing under control; and are able to stop for a moment to think about what just happened.
“What was that?” Alex finally breaks the silence; her voice sounding hoarse; her throat sore from shouting and screaming.
“I ... err,” he creases his brow, “I’m not sure.”
“We were supposed to be having a nice evening out...” She wanders out loud to the star-studded sky; the rain having subsided.
“Then I answered my sister’s phone call, you accused me of stuff and we got angry with each other.”
There is a long pause as they mull it over, all their previous tension gone.
“Did we just have ‘angry sex’?” She tries not to chuckle.
“I think we did,” he smiles and rolls on his side to face her.
“Well, I think I had a right to be angry,” she shrugs.
“What? No,” he shakes his head and points at her, “don’t start that again.”
“But it all ended so well, darling,” she teases, snuggling close to him and looking up into his eyes.
“Alex?”
“Mmm?”
“As awful as arguing is...” he begins after a few moments, “there is no one else in the entire universe that I would rather fight with.”
She smiles, genuinely, for the first time since she was people watching earlier, and kisses him affectionately before he pulls away with a life changing question on his lips.
“Will you marry me?”