“That’s because of you,” he murmurs. His thumb drags lazily up the inside of my thigh. “You’re my muse, Sera. Every note, every word.”
The words sink into me, deep and slow, leaving warmth in their wake. I don’t know whether to cry or kiss him, so I just breathe, my heart echoing the rhythm he’s left in the air.
His words hang between us.
My muse.
The way he says it—like I’ve been the spark behind every chord, every note—makes my chest ache in a way I didn’t know was possible. I shift slightly on his lap, trying to hide the flutter in my stomach. My fingers rest lightly against his thigh, but I don’t pull away. Can’t. His gaze pins me in place, sharp and soft all at once.
“You know,” I murmur, voice almost too quiet, “I’ve never…I’ve never had someone…see me like you do.”
He tilts his head, studying me.
“See you? Baby, Ifeelyou. Every note you inspire, every line I write.” His hand drifts a little higher on my thigh.
“You’ve got no idea what you do to me.” I swallow hard. My pulse thunders in my ears. I’m too aware of him, of the warmth radiating from his body, of the lazy curl of his lips that makes my knees want to buckle.
“I shouldn’t—”
“Shouldn’t what?” His voice is low, teasing, almost a growl. “Baby, I’m telling you, you’re my muse.”
The words make me flush, and I can’t help the shiver that runs through me. His thumb traces lazy, invisible circles just under the edge of my sweater, close enough to tease, far enough to torture. I glance at him, lips parted, trying to steady my racing thoughts.
“You don’t mean it…you can’t—we—” I stop, the words tangling on my tongue as I try to collect my thoughts.
He leans closer, his forehead brushing mine, his voice a rough whisper.
“It’s okay, Dove. Say your piece.”
I need to. I need to saysomething, even if it comes out wrong. But what can I possibly say? Every thought feels silly.
“What we did. Last night was…”
“Marital bliss?” he teases, one brow quirking. My stomach somersaults.
“It…it was amazing. But it felt like sin.”
He grins, slow and wicked. “Everything you enjoy is almost always a sin, baby.”
“You make it sound like…sin doesn’t matter.”
“My Dove,” he says softly. “I’m sorry you feel that way. If you regret last night, then—”
“I’m not saying that.” The words rush out, desperate. “It feels like Ishould—but I don’t.”
I drop my gaze, biting my lip. I don’t know what else to say. Maybe I should just shut up. The last thing I want is to hurt him.
Trey turns away, lost in thought, and a lump rises in my throat. I must have said the wrong thing. I didn’t mean to.
“So, just to get this absolutely right,” he says after a moment, his voice rougher now. “One night with me, and you’re having some kind of existential crisis about sin? Shit…I should put that on my dating profile.One night with me may cause religious epiphanies.”
Dating profile?The words sting, even if he’s joking.
“Come on, Dove,” he says, catching my look. “Don’t you remember what we talked about last night? And get your mind out of the gutter…”
My cheeks flare hot.What we said. The memory rushes back, and the heat crawls up my neck, spreading to my ears.
Are you gonna be a good girl and cum all over my cock, baby?
