“Real?” he finishes for me. “People act like looking unkempt is some sort of statement of authenticity.” These words are muttered—all grumpy and under his breath. “Fuck them.”
I stop in front of him, amusement playing across my lips. “Touchable,” I say, reaching out to finger the hem of his old, threadbare shirt. “I was going to say, you look touchable.”
Toni hovers in front of me for an uncertain moment, as if he’s unsure what to do next. Then, he steps forwards, bringing his body so close to mine I can feel his warmth. “Go ahead.” He tilts his head back the few degrees it takes to meet my gaze. “Touch me. Anywhere you want.” He’s wearing the sultry grin he likes to bandy about whenever he’s getting his way. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Heat pulses through me and my fingertips tingle with the urge to follow his lead. His moods are mercurial tonight. If I let him, he’ll take every one of them out on me. The thought alone makes my dick swell, and I have to bite back a breathy moan. I take a step back. “We need to talk.”
With a humph, he stomps over to the couch and throws himself onto one end. “Talking is overrated.”
I sit on the other end, bending one leg up on the cushion so I’m facing him. “First up, I want to apologise for my part in what happened. I didn’t mean to ambush you with the whole dating thing. I’d planned to talk to you about it tomorrow, but then the topic came up. I jumped on it.”
He shakes his head. “None of this is your fault. It serves me right for lying in the first place. Then continuing to lie, over and over. I just wanted…” He runs his hands over his face and up through the product-free hair I want so desperately to touch. “I suppose, I wanted people to think I’m capable of having the kind of relationship that comes so easily to everyone else. Something meaningful. With a man who can stand to be around me longer than it takes the milk in my fridge to spoil.
“Instead, I destroyed the one relationship that did mean something.” He heaves a sigh before turning to look at me. “And I was mean to you. I’m sorry for that, as well.”
A smile tugs at my mouth. “I forgive you for being mean, and I forgive you for the other thing.”
He cocks his head in question. “What other thing?”
“Your relationship with Rodney is not the only one with meaning. What we have means something. At least, it does to me.” Scooting forwards on the couch, I take one of his hands in mine. “I know we’ve been doing everything out of order, but you said it yourself: we get to make our own rules. This is real, Toni. I want more of you in my life.”
Disentangling our hands, Toni stands and crosses to the other side of the room. “You’re sweet, Ned, and I know you care, I do. But let’s face it, pretty much everything you know about me is fake. From my hair colour to my smile, to my oh-so-fabulous attitude. Even my name is fake.” He gives an abrupt laugh. “Do you know what it says on my birth certificate?”
I stand, putting my hands on my hips. “Is it a Y?”
“It’s a fucking Y,” he confirms. “Anthony Fairweather, at your service.” He bends at the waist in a mock bow, complete with hand flourish. “Honestly, how could I ever expect anyone to have a long-term relationship with the empty, vacuous shell of nothingness that is me?”
Now it’s my turn to indulge in some eyerolling. “The part where you’re overly dramatic seems real.”
“Do you know why I’m dramatic?” he asks, pointing his finger at me. “It distracts people from looking too closely and seeing all the hot air.” He gestures irritably at his torso, which draws my attention back to how tempting he looks in those clothes… and how much more tempting he would look out of them. Yeah, that is distracting.
Shaking my head, I attempt to get my mind back on task. “Let me tell you a few things I do know about you, Anthony Fairweather.” His eyes narrow at the use of his full name, and I smirk in response. “I know you took care of me at Autumn Skies. You made me feel safe when I thought such a thing impossible.” I walk towards him, my steps slow and measured. He watches me warily as he backs towards the dining table. “You always seem to know what I need, and you give it to me, generously. Even when what I need is for you to hold me down and take all my power away.”
“I’m not being generous,” he insists. “I like telling people what to do.”
“And it’s sexy as hell when you do it to me.” I lick my lips and his gaze drops to my mouth. But then he pulls out a dining chair and stands behind it, as if it’s somehow going to stop me from getting closer. “The pride on your face tonight when you walked into that party with me beside you? That was real.”
“I’m possessive,” he snaps.
“I enjoy being possessed by you.” Rounding the chair, I stand beside him. “The way you look at me in public, the way you treat me in private. As though I’m everything you’ve ever wanted and all you need me to be is yours. That’s real.”
He faces me, one hand still on the back of the chair as he stares up at me with sadness in those big, brown doe eyes. “I’m bad for you.”
“You aresogood for me,” I croon, reaching out to take hold of his hips. “I’ll admit I went a little rock star at the party tonight, but I didn’t do it to please you.” I pull him against me, letting him feel my burgeoning erection. “I did it because it felt good. It’s a part of myself I’ve been scared of for too long, Toni. Scared of what I might do, of what I might let someone else do. But then I met you, and for the first time in years, I feel safe enough to let go for a while. You have no idea how badly I’ve missed being me.” My head falls back as I exhale. A long, satisfied sigh that flows through every limb and make all the embers in my veins glow brighter. When I look down at him again, see the wonder on his face, I smile. “You bring me back to life, Toni,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his. “You make me real.”
He sighs when I kiss him, filling his mouth with my tongue and my hands with his hair. The clean strands are softer than I ever would have thought possible, and I tunnel my fingers through them over and over. I want to crawl inside him, get under his armour the way he’s gotten under mine. I want every real feeling I’ve ever had for him to be returned so he’ll always want me to stay.
My fingers finally move away from his locks to delve beneath his clothing, taking advantage of the freedom provided by the loose material. I skim across the softness of his skin, pausing to knead a muscle here or tease a sensitive spot there.
“Let me show you what’s real,” I growl into his neck before latching on. He’s panting against me, each ragged breath loud in the otherwise quiet room.
I back him up against the dining table, pulling off his clothes as I go. He doesn’t try to stop me, but he doesn’t undress me either. Does he want a more thorough demonstration of my need for him? Does he want me to beg? I’ll do it, but I won’t be using words. Not this time.
Once he’s naked, I take a moment to look my fill. With his long limbs and flat stomach, the soft curves of his slender body and the sharp angles of his face, Toni is everything I’ve ever craved. He is my perfect example of masculinity.
I’ve never been drawn to men who are physically larger than me. The idea of giving myself to someone who could hold me down by force if they chose has never appealed. But being with someone who makes me feel big and powerful and strong—and then choosing to hand my power over to them—that’s where the meaning in my surrender lies. It’s the thrill of the choice that brings me to my knees.
This man is everything that sets my imagination on fire. And I’m determined to burn.
