Eyes widening, she tries to scurry off my lap.
I grip her hips, keeping her where she is. “She’s not coming now,” I promise with a huff of a laugh. “She’s fucking seven hundred miles away. You’ve got time to get dressed first.”
She smacks my chest with an annoyed sigh.
I grasp her wrist and kiss the inside of it. “What?”
“When were you going to tell me she was coming?”
My lips twitch, even as I try to hold back a smirk. “Now. She called when I was driving home.”
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine, the emerald color dulling. “Do you want me to go back to my place? I don’t mind if you want alone time with her.”
Growling, I clutch her to my chest and lean back. “Baby girl, this is your place.Our place.And she’s coming because she wants to spend time with you.”
A shy smile spreads across her face. “Really?”
“Yes. That, and she has a few classes to teach.”
“Classes?”
“Yeah, the poles in the basement. She instructs pole dancing classes down there.”
A laugh sputters past her lips. “What?”
“My sister is a sex therapist. She helps women take back their sexuality after abuse or heartbreak. She’s very passionate about it.”
She splays her hands over my bare chest. “And here I thought you were the ultimate playboy with a bunch of stripper poles in your basement. But really, you’re just a caring brother.”
I stroke her hair. “You are painting me as entirely too good of a guy.”
A smirk plays at her lips. “Let me guess; you’ve fucked a few of her clients.”
I snort. “You barely sound jealous.”
“Like you were jealous when I told you about my past.” She cocks a brow.
I cup her ass and squeeze. “Just because I gave you orgasms, baby girl, doesn’t mean I wasn’t jealous. I hate thinking of you with anyone else. I know you’re open to sharing, but I don’t know if I could now that I have you.”
Just the idea makes my chest tighten. I’ve had friends who were into that, and in theory, it’s hot, but now I can’t imagine someone else touching her.
“That’s the beauty of this, baby,” she says, her tone soft. “It’s your decision whether or not we share. Because I’myours.”
I study her, memorizing each freckle, still amazed that she really is mine. “I love you.”
Her face softens, the sexy, taunting seductress fading away. I love that side of her so much, but I love this expression even more. Because like this, she isn’t putting on a show. There’s no artifice. She’s just this beautiful girl who feels safe opening up for only me. “I love you.” She nibbles on her lip, her focus lowering. “Can I ask you something?”
I hum. “You want to know why my sister took off, don’t you?”
And awkward laugh escapes her. “How’d you know?”
“Figured it was only a matter of time before you asked.” I twirl a strand of her hair, watching the way the many beautiful shades of red blend together.
I hate telling this story. But if anyone needs to hear it, it’s Savannah. I want to spend my life with her, so there can’t be any secrets between us. At least not big ones like this.
She shifts off my lap and pulls a white chenille blanket off the back of the couch. It’s one she brought from her place, a simple, cozy piece. She settles under my arm, putting herself in a position where I won’t be forced to look at her as I speak.
My heart pangs. I appreciate her thoughtfulness, but it’s completely unnecessary. I can barely go a few seconds without glancing her way. She’s too pretty, and as much as it hurts to talk about this, opening up to her doesn’t feel so awful.
