Текст книги "Can't Resist Him"

Автор книги: Molly McLain

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Twelve

“Jesus, you could have an orgy in that thing.”

Brody laughed from the doorway of the master bath. Ahead of him, Jenny stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the deep tub. “Pretty sure whoever built this house had something similar in mind.” Right now, his own thoughts weren’t so far removed either, between him and Jenny, at least. But tonight he’d be happy to get her a little wet...in every sense of the word.

“So how are we gonna do this?” She tossed a saucy grin over her shoulder.

“Do what?” He arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning into the door. Okay, so maybe he was hoping for completely naked, but if that happened, it’d have to be her call entirely.

“You’ve got some things you want to say, right?” She turned and faced him, her dark eyes heavier, more intense than they had been only moments earlier when they’d shared a quick brownie sundae and he’d given her the tour he’d promised. When he’d gone out to her car and brought in her overnight bag, an unspoken agreement that she’d stay forged between them.

“I do.” He dipped his chin, watching her intently. Her call, man. Bide your time.

“But you’re obviously dragging your feet.” Head cocked to the side, she bit her lip. Made him want to give her something else to nibble on. “Maybe I could offer some incentive.”

Yep, he liked incentives. “Keep talking.”

“You tell me your secrets and I’ll get into that tub with you.”

“Deal.”

She laughed, putting one methodical foot in front of the other until she reached him. “Don’t be so quick to agree, handsome. I wasn’t done laying out the game.”

Didn’t matter. The prospect of seeing more of her gorgeous skin was the only persuasion he needed. “Go on.”

“You have to get naked first.”

He had his fly down faster than it took her eyes to zero in on his belt. “And?” he asked, stripping his t-shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor.

“Are you playing me, Superman? I’m starting to think you don’t really have anything to say at all.”

“I’m a guy, sugar. You’ve just baited me with the ultimate reward. I may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but I’m with it enough to know a good deal when I hear one.” His jeans hit the tile next and her eyes widened as he kicked them free. Probably had something to do with his hard cock threatening to bust out of his boxer briefs. He grinned. “Ah, that’s right—I’ve got something you wanna see, too.”

“You sure know how to turn my games around on me, don’t you?” She shifted back a half step, her eyes still trained below his waist. A shiver rocked her body from head to toe and she muttered a not so secretive, “Good Lord.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, beautiful—this has always been my game.” With that, he stepped around her and cranked on the hot water.

“Mmm, if that’s what you want to think.” He felt her at his back, her soft lips pressing kisses across his shoulder blades. “I don’t think I told you before, but I like your tattoos. They’re hot. You’ve probably heard that before.”

He had. He’d even had a few women who insisted they lick every single one. Still, Jenny’s adoration stroked his ego. Being physically appealing to her was more important than it had ever been before. Especially given the evidence of war that had riddled his body.

“What happened to your thigh?” she asked quietly, her fingers gently brushing over the bumpy, once raw skin of his upper right leg. It wasn’t a big area. Seven inches wide by nine long and, really, it had been nothing more than a flesh wound. But it was still ugly. And yet it was nothing like Ernie and Troy had suffered.

“IED,” he muttered, that same instantaneous guilt brewing fast in his gut.

“I saw the bottom of the scar in Vegas, but didn’t want to ask. It looks like it hurt.” She continued to touch him and he ground his jaw. He didn’t deserve this attention. This pity. He was still alive while Ernie lay in a cold, dark fucking grave, a hole the size of Nebraska in his chest.

“I’m breathing. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” he snapped, fully aware that this was his issue—not hers.

She shook her head slowly. “No, Brody, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is. My buddies died and all I got was fucking road rash.”

“This looks likes more than road rash. It looks like—”

“It was burn, okay? Nothing a couple grafts couldn’t fix.” He cranked the water harder and raked a hand back through his hair, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Wishing he’d pushed her away instead of pulling her in. But he’d been helpless to it, stuck in a continuous game of wanting something he knew better to think he deserved.

She couldn’t fucking heal him.

“Hey...” Lifting her hand to his cheek, she toed up and brushed a sweet kiss across his lips. “Let’s just get in, okay?”

He nodded. Even if his head stood firm in the belief that nothing could change this personalized version of guilt-ridden hell, his heart still held out hope that this woman would be his salvation.

He climbed into the tub with his boxer briefs on, kept his back to her just long enough to hear the rustle of denim hit the floor, followed by the soft whisk of her shirt through the air. He turned, lowering himself into the water, as she stepped away from her jeans, wearing nothing but black satin panties and a lacy pink bra.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, unable to look away, even when she wrapped an arm around her waist and glanced down at the floor, a blush even darker than her bra creeping into her cheeks. “Why you hiding from me, baby?”

“I’m not perfect either.” She wouldn’t look at him, just curled her toes into the tile and kept that protective shield slung across her belly. A belly that wasn’t cut like she worked out every day at the gym or even once a week, for that matter. Instead, she looked soft and curvy. Feminine. And every fucking bit as beautiful as he imagined she’d be.

“Come here,” he rasped, but she hesitated, opening her mouth like she might refuse him. “Dammit, woman, don’t make me come get you.”

“Just...hear me out, okay? I need to say this.” She pushed a hand back through her hair and fisted it, all the while sucking in and then blowing out a shaky breath. “We both have our issues and this is one of mine,” she admittedly quietly. “I don’t usually worry about whether or not I’ll live up to anyone’s expectations, because I know it’s almost never about me personally. It’s just my willing body that most guys care about.”

“Jesus, babe...”

She held up a hand. “I like you, Brody, and when you do things like text me late at night, hold my hand in the freaking grocery store, and eat the stupid vegetables I cook for you, it’s hard for me not to like you even more. Even when you tell me there are things about you I don’t know.” She tipped her head to the side and the emotion that lined her eyelids made him want to go out and beat the hell out of every bastard that had ever hurt her.

“You’re angry and feeling guilty and I’m scared to freaking death that I’m not going to be enough for you either,” she whispered, a small, vulnerable smile trembled on her lips.

He was on his feet and out of the tub in an instant. His hands found her hair and his mouth came down on hers without hesitation. He wished he could kiss all the pain and uncertainty out of her, or even load it onto his own shoulders, so she could see how friggin’ real this was to him, too.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured between sweet caresses of her tongue against his. “But I’ve gotta be straight with you about something.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she pressed her fingertips to her lips, looking up at him with so much fear in her eyes that it hurt—actually fucking hurt—to pull in his next breath.

She wasn’t the only one who was scared. Fuck, he was terrified. If he told her the truth and she ran, not only did he lose her, but he’d lose the only, barely-grasped thread of hope he found for his recovery, too. Somehow, her non-judging goodness had become tangled up with all the chaos in his head and, despite his efforts, he couldn’t separate them. She was his recovery.

“Just tell me.” She shifted back a mere fraction of an inch, but he felt her retreat like she’d put the whole damn room between them.

“Stay with me, sugar. Please.” He reached and pulled her back to him, chest to chest, belly to belly, hip to hip. Yeah, he was begging. Didn’t give a damn. His humility went out the window when the Corps sent him to therapy. “I can’t do this if you’re not with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He wanted to believe that. Hoped like hell it was true. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out.

“Jenn...” He closed his eyes and gathered every ounce of strength and courage he could find buried beneath his rubbled insides. “I can’t deploy because the organization I’ve committed my life to rejected me.”

In the space where he hovered, somewhere between reality and the haven of numbness he’d spent so much time in this past year, he heard her whisper his name. Felt her fingers brush against his stomach and her lips press against his chest.

“I have PTSD and, according to the Corps, I’m too fucked in the head to be of any use to them. Not now, maybe not ever again. But you...” His eyes snapped open and the look of complete absolution on her face shook him to the core. “You make me feel like I’m needed. Like I’ve still got something to give and something to fight for, too.”

“You do,” she whispered, a silent tear falling down her cheek as she offered all her comfort to him. “God, Brody, you do.”

He nodded. “I believe it when you say it.”

“Then I’ll keep saying it. Over and over again, as often as you need to hear it.”

A moment of clarity broke through the perpetual fog in his head and he dropped his forehead down to hers. “That’s what I’m counting on, sugar.”

***

With her back to his chest, Jenny closed her eyes and let his voice and the soft massaging jets seduce her muscles and her mind into long-overdue relaxation. Even Brody, who’d started at the very beginning of the story he’d kept trapped inside for the past year, seemed more at ease than she’d ever seen him, despite the painful memories he shared.

“I didn’t even know my leg had been burned until we loaded up into the helo and the medics started cutting away my pants. In hindsight, I remember the blast rocking our ride, but what happened between then and me getting Ernie to shelter is gone.”

“You were in shock, but instinct kicked in and you did what you knew you had to do.” She smoothed a handful of water over his knee, tracing her fingertip over a raised scar. Not as angry looking as the ones on his thigh, but not pretty either.

“That’s from my first tour. Good ol’ barbed wire fencing,” he chuckled softly.

“Do you have more?” She wanted to know his entire story. Every little intricacy that made him this man with her right now. The one, who from the very start, had given her more of himself than he even realized he had to give. The man who still worried that he wasn’t enough.

“Yeah, but they’re nothing, you know? I’m intact. I’ve got all my limbs and everything works just fine. I see guys wearing prosthetics left and right and I feel guilty as fuck for that, too.”  He shifted uncomfortably behind her and she turned just enough to see his face.

“Just because we can’t see your biggest wound doesn’t mean it’s any less important. Or any less heroic.”

“Don’t say that. Christ, just...don’t.” He swiped at his face with a wet hand and droplets of water clung to his lower lip. So she turned, and leaning in on her knees, licked it away.

“Say what, Superman? That you’re a hero?” she breathed against his mouth. “That you’re not one of the most incredible freakin’ human beings I’ve ever met?” Another kiss, this one a little harder, more insistent than the last since Brody’s walls stayed firmly in place, his eyes open and his lips barely participating.

“I have worse nightmares now than I did as a kid. For all I sweat during the damn things, I might as well piss the bed, too. That ain’t exactly commendable shit.”

“We didn’t need new sheets in Vegas.” She brushed her lips along his jaw and then down the thick cord on the side of his neck, refusing to be deterred.

“That’s because you were there,” he rasped, and the vibration of his words tickled her tongue. Goosebumps spread along her bare skin like a slow-burning fire.

“Ah, so having someone in bed with you...that helps?” She didn’t want to think about him with another woman—or women, for that matter—but this was about him right now, not her.

“That’s just it...” One of his hands coasted up her back, the callouses on his fingers scraping gently over her vertebrae until he reached the hooks of her bra. Then his touch reversed, trailing all the way down to the band of her panties. “It’s you, Jenn. Only you.”

“Me?” She lifted her head, eyes wide.

He nodded. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“How do you know that? We’ve only slept in the same bed that one time.”

He lifted a shoulder and slid a hand under her ass, pulling her into his lap. “Best sleep I’ve had in months. Talking to you before bed helps, too. Not always, but I can usually get a few uninterrupted hours.”

“But...” Why hadn’t he told her this before? “We don’t talk all the time. In fact, we hardly even texted this week.” He’d been busy with work and she’d tried not to come off as too needy.

“I know.” He brushed the damp hair away from her face. “I didn’t figure it was fair to use you like my own personal dose of Ambien without you knowing. I wanted to tell you before it happened again and then you showed up today.”

Wow. “I’m not sure what to say. I mean...” Part of her loved that she could help him that way and another part of her worried that maybe he was just—

“No,” he said quickly, answering her unfinished thought. He folded his arm around her lower back, anchoring her in place, with her thighs hugged against his hips, warm water pulsing against their skin.

“Dammit, Jenn, that’s not why I want to be with you. It isn’t even part of the reason, though you’ve gotta admit—it’s damn coincidental that the one girl I can’t stop thinking about also happens to be the only person who’s been able to calm all this crazy shit in my head.”

When he tipped her chin so he could see her face, she closed her eyes, shuttering out all the confusion and, God help her, hope still rolling around in her head. He wanted to be with her. To hear him say those words with such conviction...

“I found out I’d been grounded right before Christmas, and the only people who know why are the guys in my battalion and my friggin’ shrink. I haven’t even told my parents.” He sighed and his breath feathered against her face, making her shiver. “Please look at me,” he pleaded, his voice gentle. “I need to see your eyes.”

A complete sucker for this man, she slowly gave him what he wanted and he let out a shuddered exhale, his arms tightening around her in a shaky embrace. God, he was handsome.

“That. That right there is why I can’t get you out of my head.” He pulled her head down to his, the tip of his nose brushing against hers as he peppered kisses over her mouth and along her cheekbone. “You know the truth and you don’t look at me any differently than you did that first night.”

“Why would I?” she whispered.

“The same reason you worry I might only use you,” he countered, a small laugh rumbling in his throat. “It’s what we know, babe. It’s what we’ve come to expect, even from people we thought cared about us.”

“But you’re the same man here.” Fingers spread wide, she dragged them over his heart.

“I’m not sure that’s true, but with you I want to try and be that guy again.”

And he made her want to take a leap she swore she wouldn’t. If they could share this kind of surreal intimacy with nothing more than words, what kind of physical connection would they have?

She kept her eyes glued on his, reached around her back and, one hook at a time, unfastened her bra.

His gaze darkened and his nostrils began to flare with every breath he took. “What are you doing, sugar?”

“You’ve trusted me with all the deepest parts of you, now I want to do the same.”

“Jenny...” His tone was all protest and warning, but the eager way his hands squeezed her ass beneath the water, paired with his eyes locked on the skin she revealed told a different story.

“Are you saying you don’t want me?” she teased, rolling one shoulder so the strap fell.

“Oh, I want you,” he growled like a caged animal.

“Then have me.”

Chapter Thirteen

The man was the freaking devil with his mouth.

The sweet swirl of Brody’s tongue around one pebbled nipple while he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger turned Jenny’s brain to mush in seconds. Dropping her head back, all she could do was hold on tight and turn herself over to his ministrations, letting him build the fire that flamed at her core with every hungry pluck of her flesh.

Back and forth he went, lips and hands driving her completely mad with desire until that invisible cord wound so tight in her belly, she shook with need. Between her legs, his thick erection pressed into her softness and she let go of any pretense of acting like a proper lady—she rubbed against him like the shameless, sex-deprived vamp she really was.

“Slow down, sugar.” Her wet, strawberry-red peak popping from between his lips as he smiled. “We’ve got all night.”

“I just...I need this.” And it had nothing to do with the actual getting off part, because she was damn good at that all on her own. She’d even done it two weeks ago after he’d whispered dirty words in her ear on her front porch. She’d flown higher and harder than she had in months.

What she needed now was that deeper, more intimate connection that only being with this man could give her. She didn’t understand the pull or why it was so damn intense with Brody, but he’d just laid himself bare before her and, God help her, she wanted more. She wanted everything.

She slipped her hands beneath the water and smoothed them down his hard, bunched abs, loving how the muscles jumped and tensed against her touch. The wide head of his shaft stretched the soaked cotton of his underwear to the point that one brush of her fingers set him free to her touch. One fingertip toyed with the ball at the end of his piercing and she shivered. How would that smooth steel feel against her tongue? Inside her?

He let her play with the jewelry and every solid, silky inch of him that followed while he laid wet kisses along her collarbone and thumbed gently at one nipple. “Is that what you need?” he rasped.

She nodded. “I think you need it, too.”

His stormy gaze drifted up to hers again as she wrapped her hand around his erection, her fingers not close to touching, and stroked him. “I’m afraid what I need and what you want are two different things.”

“Doubtful.” Up and down she went, memorizing every ridge and contour of him and loving the play of pleasure that flickered across his face. He reciprocated the touch by urging her onto her knees and pushing one hand into the back of her panties. His middle finger slid along the seem of her cheeks until the rough, calloused fingertip grazed her sex and she moaned. More of that please. Lots more.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, his fingers smoothing along her labia and mons, giving her some of what she wanted, though it wasn’t nearly enough. He wasn’t touching for her pleasure anyway—he was looking for something he wouldn’t find. “Did you do this yourself?”

She nodded and rocked her hips, eyes closed while her breath came in shaky pants. If she could just get his fingers aligned with her clit...

“Stand up.”

“Huh?” She blinked her eyes open, brow bunched in confusion.

“I wanna see your pussy, sugar.” A feral grin twitched at his mouth as he hooked a finger in the band of her panties and tugged. “You’re bare and I bet you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Oh. Okay. Um...

“No one’s ever told you that before, have they?”

Never for her benefit. She shook her head and a flicker of something primal mixed with something even darker washed over his face.

“Fucking idiots. All of them.” Coasting her hands down the back of her thighs, he guided her up. Hazy and intense, his gaze stayed locked on hers until she stood in front of him, dripping wet with her feet planted on either side of his legs.

A bubble of unexpected emotion rose in her chest and her eyes darted away, heat in her cheeks once again. Dammit, she’d been with more men than she’d ever admit, yet Brody had a way of making her feel completely exposed. With her panties still on, for God’s sake.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands drifting up the back of her calves. “You’re also stronger, more real than anyone I know and it blows my fucking mind that you’re here with me.”

He’s not going to hurt you, Jenn. Leap!

“Let your walls down, baby. Let me in.” His fingers reached her panties and, inch by slow inch, he slid them down. “Trust me.”

Her heart hammered a chaotic beat and her knees shook as she lifted one foot and then the other so he could rid her completely of the tangled satin. It landed on the floor next to her bra and the rest of their discarded clothing, and the movement distracted her just long enough that she missed him leaning in to place an open mouth kiss on the inside of her thigh.

“Ah!” Ticklish and already aroused, her hands wound in his hair on instinct. She didn’t mean to hold him in place, but she did and she felt his smile against her leg.

“See, your heart knows what it wants, baby. Maybe you should trust that, too.”

I’m trying...

“Or I could always convince you.” Another kiss, this one higher up. Wetter. “I was right, by the way.”

“Huh?” What was he talking about? “Brody!” Her hand flung out, reaching for the wall, as he jerked her right leg over his shoulder and buried his face between her legs.

All of her hesitation, all of her fear, all of her ability to think logically disappeared when his spread her open and stroked his thumb over her clit.

“Jesus fuck,” he groaned. “Look how goddamn pretty you are.”

Roses. She hoped there were roses at her funeral, because she was going. To. Freaking. Die.

“B-Brody...” she stammered, but his name was the only word that would come out. Every last one of her brain cells had turned to mush. She couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed about the trickle of moisture sliding down the inside of her thigh.

“I wanna taste you...” He caught the droplet on the tip of his tongue and growled. “But I won’t be able to stop once I start.”

Oh, God. Her entire body quivered in anticipation. It had been a damn long time since—

“I’m gonna eat your pussy until I fucking own it. Until you come harder than you ever have, knowing you belong to me now.”

Yes! I want that!

“I take care of what’s mine, sugar, and, if you’ll have me, I’m make it my personal mission to worship every beautiful inch of you, inside and out...thoroughly and as often as I fucking can.”

He gave her no time to respond—not that she could have—before he nuzzled in deep and did exactly what he promised. His tongue slid over every curve and valley of her sex, sucking and teasing every secret spot he could find. His stubble was an erotic contradiction of pleasure and pain and his fingers... God, his fingers, when they smoothed along her opening and then dipped inside. One at first, then two, expertly working inside of her, while his mouth zeroed in on her clit and drove her higher than she’d ever been.

She was floating. Suspended in the air and rising, seeking out that elusive high in which her entire world came together, balancing like a ball on top of a pin. Perfect and precise for a few short moments before detonating into a million pieces.

She gripped his hair and held on tight, because coming for Brody was a hundred times more potent than anything she’d experienced before. Like jumping from an airplane at twelve thousand feet. Fast and intense and so much better than the anticipation.

Brody stayed with her until every last pulse of orgasm fluttered in her sex and then suddenly he was on his feet, lifting her out of the tub. Her legs found a home around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom, both of them dripping.

One knee on the bed, he tumbled them down and she gave a soft gasp as her back hit the soft black comforter. Brody loomed above her, seeming larger than life, with a determined gleam in his eyes.

“You convinced yet, sugar?”

Oh yeah and, feeling empowered, she reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock. “Not quite. Maybe you should get inside and try again.”

***

She was the most addicting ride he’d ever been on. Up and down like a roller coaster with her emotions and confidence in a way that would have normally freaked him the hell out. With Jenny, however, she was nothing but honest and real and he wanted her all the more because of it.

He groaned and wound his hands in the comforter when her thumb flicked across the frenulum end of his piercing. His balls drew up tight, too, and, if he didn’t get inside soon, he was gonna come in her hand like a teenager.

“I want to see it.” She licked her lips like she had more in mind than just looking and his hips flexed into her touch. If her hand felt this good, her mouth would kill him. “Please?”

How the hell could he deny that sweet pout?

Getting onto his knees, he pulled her up with him and reached into the nightstand for a strip of condoms.  The moonlight streaming through the window lit Jenny up like an ethereal angel, spread open, showing off her prettiest parts just for him. From her lowered eyelids and the way she purred, seeking out his cock once again, she obviously liked what it did to him, too.

“So hot,” she murmured, one hand on his shaft while the other cupped his balls. “I’ve never...with a piercing.”

Oh hell yeah. The primal, greedy part of his ego puffed its chest and he gave a crooked smile. “I’ll be gentle.”

She smiled, too, and before he realized her intent, she shifted to her knees and bobbed down on his dick. Jesus Christ, her mouth. So soft and wet. Her tongue wasted no time getting intimately acquainted with his barbell like it was her own personal novelty toy.

“Jenn...babe...fuuuck.” His hand slid down the middle of her back, the bumps of her spine so feminine beneath his fingers, as she took him all the way to the back of her throat and then deeper yet until she’d swallowed every inch of him. Christ. She did it again and again, tonguing his piercing until his ears rang and then taking him deep until he lost all sense of control. He roared into the moonlit room, giving into the urge to fuck her mouth until he blew. To claim this part of her, too.

No. Not like this. She deserved better than him shooting his load down her throat on their first go-round, dammit. This was Jenny, not some meaningless bar head he’d never see again. What the fuck was wrong with him?

A quick twist and lift and he had her on her back again, panting hard beneath him as he pressed his rock hard cock into her drenched folds. Like the thirsty little vixen she was, her hips rose to meet the slip and slide of his body against hers. Greedier still, her nails scored down his back and into his ass cheeks, pushing his underwear out of the way.

So much for gentle.

He had the condom on in seconds. Faster yet, he aligned his shaft with her slit and pushed inside.

The display of sensation on her face was fucking beautiful. Wide eyes, parted lips, nostrils fluttering with every shallow breath she took. And then he bottomed out, her tight pussy snugged around him like a glove.

He’d been with lots of women in his thirty years, some he’d even cared about, but being inside Jenny...holy fucking hell. There weren’t words. Just...a million different sensations jolting through his body, promising him that this, right now with this woman, was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

His hands shook. His head spun. His friggin’ chest ached, because Jenny...fuck. She looked at him like he really was Superman. And she really did make him believe that, with time and a whole hell of a lot of self-forgiveness, he might—just maybe—be worthy of the smallest piece of her.

“Brody,” she whispered and he turned into the caress of her fingers along the side of his face. God, the hope she gave him. It was fucking surreal.

“Yeah, sugar?” he murmured back, his chest tight as he slowly moved inside her. With his elbows on either side of her pretty head, they were as physically close as any two people could be, but it wasn’t enough. The urge to connect with her—to consume her and to claim her—built fast and he took her mouth in a hungry kiss that quickly turned explosive.

His name was a breathless refrain on her lips as he pulled out and sank in deep, filling her body over and over again, giving her everything he had to give. If he could make her feel good... If he could show her that she wasn’t just another body to him... If he could make her see that he fucking needed her, then maybe—

“Baby, you’ve got nothing to prove,” she promised, holding his face so they were nose to nose, gasping for the same air. The emotion in her eyes reached in deep and gripped his heart. Just like her body clenched his cock as she came, back arched off the bed with a moan that made him want to beat his fucking chest. He slid an arm beneath her and held her close, pumping hard and letting her orgasm rock him over the edge, too.

He came with a grunt, buried to the hilt in her sweet heat and with only one conscious thought in his head...

He wanted this girl forever, and he’d go to any length to make that fantasy become a reality.