She blinked.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he promised. “Not unless you tell me to. And even then, I might not listen.”
She laughed at that.
Zaire kissed her smile.
Meadow melted into him, finally letting the day slip off her shoulders and into his palms.
When they broke apart, Zaire tugged her waist just enough for her toes to lift off the floor a little. Her hand flew to his shoulder, startled.
He smirked. “You lightweight,” he teased.
“Boy, put me down,” she whispered.
“Nah.” He kissed her again, harder this time, making her toes curl in her shoes. He pressed her fully against the door, his hand sliding to the back of her neck.
Her legs shook.
Zaire caught her - one arm under her thighs, the other gripping her waist like he’d been waiting for her to fall.
She gasped into his mouth.
He pulled back, lips brushing hers, breath warm, voice deep and certain. “Tell me what you need me to do…tell me how you need me to handle it?”
“Zaire, you can go to the tournament…I’m not that pressed,” she tried to make it better with humor.
Zaire peppered kisses down her neck, licking the spots were her pulse thumped hard.
Meadow’s head tilted back, eyes fluttering closed.
“Now take your shoes off,” he said. “We talkin’ and you gon’ stop actin’ like I’m temporary.” He made his way back over to the bed. It wasn’t a king size but the queen would have to do.
Meadow’s heart flipped so violently she had to grab his wrist to steady herself.
Zaire flipped the comforter back and sat against the headboard, legs stretched, back broad and relaxed. Meadow hovered near the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around herself like she wasn’t sure if she deserved to sit there.
Zaire tapped the spot beside him. “Stop playin’. Bring your ass up here.”
Meadow crawled up slowly, settling near him but not touching him yet. He draped an arm behind her, not pulling her in, just giving her space if she wanted it.
For a minute, neither spoke. The room hummed with the soft buzz of crickets outside, the faint tap of the ceiling fan, the muted quiet of the night.
Meadow took a shaky breath. “Zaire…can I ask you something?”
He tilted his head. “Yeah.”
“How you like me so much already?” Her voice wavered. “Barely been a month.”
Zaire sat up a little straighter, eyes fixed on her. “You serious?”
“Yes.”
“You act like I ain’t been here with you every damn day. You act like I don’t see how you move.”
She looked down, nervous and shy.
He slipped his finger under her chin, making her look at him. “Meadow…you think it take a man years to know when he sees something or someone he wants?”
