Undying Love by Nelle L'Amour

Instead, I folded my arm around her heaving shoulders and drew her close to me. I brushed away her tears with my other hand and smoothed her hair.
    “So, we’ll adopt. That’s one lucky son-of-a-bitch who gets to be our child!”
    Allee curled her mouth into a faint smile. “It could be a little girl, you know.”
    Whatever child would be ours was meant to be. It didn’t matter to me if it was a boy or girl. What mattered was that Allee was going to be the mother of my children. Our children.
    She rested her head on my shoulder, and we joked about baby names. While we couldn’t come to any agreement, one thing was for sure. There was never going to be a Ryan Madewell V.
    I swept Allee into my arms and carried her upstairs. Maybe we didn’t make a baby, but we made sweet glorious love until the wee hours of the morning. We were all over each other, groping, grasping, stroking, kissing. Just as the sun came up, I finished her with a tenderness that made her orgasm roll over my exploding organ like a crashing wave, washing me in a sea of ecstasy. Oh, how I loved this girl!

TWELVE
    I t was finally time to introduce Allee to my parents. My mother had told my father that I had a new girlfriend, and he was insistent on meeting her. What neither of them knew was that I planned to marry her.
    Allee took a lot of care getting ready for our evening together with my parents—acting quite the opposite of her usual carefree self who casually threw on her museum uniform, sweats, or a pair of jeans. As cocky and confident as she was, she was very nervous about meeting my parents. I couldn’t blame her. I was anxious too.
    “How do I look?” she asked.
    “Fuckable.” I eyed her from head to foot and grinned sheepishly. She was wearing an elegant, sleeveless black dress that came just to her knees and showed off the defined curves of her toned body and long limbs. She bought it with her own money. At some point, she was going to have to get used to the idea that my money was her money and that I could buy her things. In fact, the entire third floor of Barneys if she wished. As she slipped on a pair of sexy, black suede peep-toe pumps that made her long, shapely legs even longer, the burning urge to rip off her dress and fuck her right on the floor surged inside me.
    She rolled her eyes at me as though she was reading my mind. “What’s your father’s name?” she asked, catapulting me out of my fantasy.
    “How could you forget? The same as mine minus one. Except I call him Bastard.”
    She rolled her eyes again. “I know a lot of people with that name.”
    “But you don’t know one like my father.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’ll see.”
    I had given Allee some insight into my father, but nothing could prepare her for the reality of meeting him. If she was lucky, he’d shake her hand, test her on her knowledge of Ivy League schools, size her up, and then show her his collection of trophies—if she was worthy of such a treat. If she wasn’t worthy, he would mentally throw her into a trash bin and ignore her.
    I always hated the fact that I had to share his name. There was no way around it. There was another kid at Andover who shared his father’s name—Maximillian Wentright III. But lucky him, he got to go by Max. I was happy that Allee always called me “Madewell” and not Ryan.
    “What about Bastard’s wife?” she asked.
    “Eleanor.” I could have said her name was “Pathetic,” but I didn’t want to perpetuate a sick joke. I felt sad for my mother that she had to endure my father. But it was her choice.
    “That’s a pretty name.” Allee headed over to me, walking gracefully in the high heels as if she’d been born wearing them. I was wearing a suit to please my father—and a tie. She helped me finish knotting it—something she also did surprisingly well. Her skills never ceased to amaze me, from cooking to dressing—and undressing me—to fucking. Maybe she’d had a hot boyfriend in her past