“You did nothing wrong.”
“I know.” His brow furrowed. “I think I always felt like I did or that I should’ve done things differently. Like I should’ve done more, reacted like my brothers would’ve, and when I didn’t, it meant I was the weak Bailey.” He rolled a shoulder. “Instead, I’d rather he directed his meanness toward me than anyone else. I had my family. Others didn’t. And it wasn’t like I couldn’t see the connection between him and my dating life, but after Katrina, I doubled down on being me. Yet somewhere in my brain, I was convinced nothing mattered. No one would really want me.”
“I want you. If we do nothing but go to the jobs we enjoy and come home and read and paint models, I’ll be so damn happy.”
“I thought that was exactly the life you’d eventually run from. Somehow, I thought I wouldn’t react appropriately and you’d leave.” He lifted me off the counter and I hugged myself to him. He took me to the couch and sprawled over the cushions with me on top of him. Need swept through me. Being on top of his hard body made mine go haywire.
“I just need to soak you in.” His hands roamed up and down my back. “I missed you.”
“I couldn’t read romance anymore.”
He reached over to the coffee table and grabbed a book from a small stack I hadn’t noticed. “I have some for you.”
I pushed up, my hair tumbling over my shoulders. Without getting off him, I flipped through the books he had. Various space marine romances greeted me, including two others fromthe series of the first book I’d read at his house. He had tabs in each book.
“I can’t believe you did all this.” I selected a book and curled into the nook created by him and the back of the couch.
He plucked the book from my hands and opened it to a tabbed and highlighted page. “‘You were my everything, and I took you for granted.’”
“Tenor.” I flattened my hand on his hard chest.
“I wanted to say so much to you, and I was afraid I wouldn’t get the chance.” He paged further into the book. “‘You’ve sucked me into your orbit and I don’t want to be freed.’ You’ll have to excuse the space metaphors, but I wanted to get books that were relevant to us.”
“I like them.”
He flipped to another page. “If you like that, how about this one? ‘You are my atmosphere, the very air I breathe.’”
“It’s perfect.”
He turned to a new page. “‘Do you want me on my knees for you? Because I will drop right now, honeybee. I will beg for you, but it’ll come at a cost. I’ll give you everything you want, but you’ll come with my name on your lips. It’ll be your sweet nectar on my tongue each time I have a craving. You will spread for me and you will need it. You will need me. But I’ll be right there, on my knees and waiting for you.’”
Heat flushed through my veins and wicked under my skin. I scissored my legs, desperate to ease the ache between my thighs. “Oh god, Tenor. I’m not going to make it until after dinner.”
“You’ll make it.” His deep voice was a rumble under my ear. “And I’ll be right there, waiting for you. On my knees.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Tenor
I stripped off her thick sweats, revealing each creamy inch of her thighs. The shower was running and the water was probably warm already.
Time had ticked by agonizingly slowly until dinner was done and dishes were cleaned up. I wasn’t rushing her. By the time we’d been done eating, her eyes were no longer glassy, but her cheeks were flushed and her breath shallow. Each time she looked at me, a furnace roared hotter in her gaze. That wasn’t from the alcohol. I hadn’t had a drop and I felt the same.
I yanked every strip of clothing off her. She did the same to me. Our arms were getting tangled and we were dancing around to get each other naked.
She smiled at me and the damn sunrise was right here in my bedroom while outside the sun had set.
“You’re mine, Goldilocks.” I picked her up and stepped into my oversized shower. Carefully, I set her down, then dropped to my knees. Warm water hit my back. Her nipples were peaked and begging to be sucked.
Later. I needed a fast, hard connection with her, but I had to make sure she was ready.
She twined her fingers in my increasingly damp hair. “If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me up.”
“You’re not dreaming, and I’ll make you come so hard that you’ll be sure of it.” I hitched one of her legs over my shoulder and went right for her swollen clit.
“Tenor,” she groaned.
Her salty-sweet scent surrounded me. I lavished her tight little bundle of nerves with attention, vowing to make up for the time we’d missed. A month might be a blink in a lifetime, but it had crawled by for an eternity.
