“For tonight?” I ask, because I’m a masochist.
His bare chest rises and falls. “I know you’re a planner and a strategist, little bird. But I’m not. So, is this okay?”
This time he enunciates the last as if he wants to make sure I get it.
That it’s a temporary madness. That I shouldn’t draw conclusions or make assumptions. He won’t make false promises just to be inside me, even as the thick length of him brands my upper thigh.
That blunt honesty is at the core of Nathan Grayson, and it’s why I fell in love with him. Which is exactly when my brain decides to panic.
Imprinting Nathan into my heroes when I narrate is easy. But reality? The weight of him over me, the heat in his eyes, the way his voice roughens when he calls mebaby girl…
How do I make this good for him? Make sure he’ll never forget me?
I’ve done the minimum prep—plucked every stray hair, long shower, expensive-smelling shampoo, too much body lotion. But what if I don’t know where to put my hands, or miss the moment to do something he likes? What if—
“Jasmine.” His voice cuts into the spiral. “You’re thinking again.”
I blink up at him. “I’m not—”
“Yes, you are,” he says, a knowing smile tugging at his mouth. His hand slides under the hem of his shirt on my body, palm hot against my skin. “You’re running through some mental checklist.”
“I just—”
“What, little bird?” His voice is low, coaxing. One big hand slides over my ribs, warm and steady, his thumb brushing just under my breast. “Tell me.”
“I want this to be good for you. And I have zero idea how to make it so.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. The unexpected tenderness makes my chest squeeze. “Of course you want to, my competent-as-fuck girl. How about I tell you a secret then? Balance the scales a bit.”
The sheer combination of his touch and those words nearly undoes me. “Yes, please.”
“I haven’t done this in a long time.”
I curl my fingers around his forearms and the grounded strength of him tugs me out of my head and back into my body. “How long?”
“I don’t even remember. Maybe fifteen years. More” His sigh is heavy. “I’ve been lonely. Something I only realized recently.”
My heart aches for him, for this man who deserves every happiness. “Especially since your brother Zayn and Sasha got together.”
He chuckles. “Noticed, have you?”
“I notice everything about you.”
“And you think I don’t? About you?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, sudden shyness curling around me. My hands move to his shoulders. “Will you tell me how to make it good for you? I like to do things well.”
His mouth curves against my temple, and this time it is a smile, slow and certain. “I love that about you, little bird. How you take care of everyone around you. How you manage so many things.” His voice is low, warm, but there’s something else too. “But here, it doesn’t have to be like that.”
I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
The backs of his fingers brush my cheek. They pause, tracing the edge of the birthmark I’ve spent half my life trying to make people ignore. “You’ve been carrying everything yourself for a long time, haven’t you?” His voice is quiet. “Had to be competent and strong before most people even figure out who they are.”
My breath catches.
His thumb skims over the mark, the touch so gentle it’s almost reverent. “And when the world noticed you, it wasn’t always kind.”
I can’t speak.
