She’s been protecting herself for so long, so I understand why she’s still holding back, why she’s not letting me inside her home yet, but I’m itching to know when she’ll open the door for me.
I smile, carrying her bags to my place, and remind myself that doing the right thing takes time. Pressuring her isn’t worth the risk.
“Two bags?” I ask.
She shrugs, and it’s both adorable and saucy. “I wanted options.”
“I didn’t realize this weekend would require clothing.”
She winks. “It doesn’t.”
I open my front door and narrow my eyes as she strides past me. “What do you have planned, you minx?”
All three dogs greet her with kisses, and it warms my heart watching her love on my babies.
“Did you know there are mallard drakes in your living room?” she asks, gesturing to where two of my male ducks lie, curled up in a blanket on the floor.
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Emilio recently bonded with Steve and they enjoy the soft life.”
“Aww, queer ducks.”
“You should see Peggy right now,” I laugh. “She’s pissed Steve left her this mating season.” Renée’s eyes twinkle when she turns them on me. “What?”
“Look at you, knowing about duck mating seasons and same-sex bonding.”
My eyes bug out. “Have you seen ducks in mating season? They’re the opposite of cute. They’re criminals. Every last one of them could have their own episode ofLaw and Order: SVU.”
The dogs follow us to my bedroom where I set her bags down. I give them a kiss on their heads and guide their sad faces out of the room so we can have privacy—or some semblance of privacy. I can hear them all grunt their displeasure as they lay down in the hallway. They’ll survive. Short of the world burning, not much is going to stop me from this valuable alone time with Renée.
She sets something on my nightstand and turns to me with a look that tells me she’s as ready as I am. Our sexual hunger has reached an all-time high, and now that we have the space and time to explore—now that we have mutual trust—it’s all about to erupt.
My heart thunders as I cross the spacious bedroom toward the woman I’m head over heels for.
She tilts her head and strokes her hands up my arms. “Are you ready to give up control?” she asks.
“It’s funny you think I had any in the first place.”
“You know what I mean.”
I delicately play with one of her gold earrings. “You want to control me. You want to be in charge of what we do in the bedroom.”
Her emerald-green eyes are fixed on mine and she nods almost imperceptibly.
“Yes, Professor. I want you to control me.”
The corner of her mouth curls and her gaze darts away. “You have a king-size bed.”
“I’m six three,” I counter with a smirk. “I needed the California king. Why? How big is your bed?”
“I’m five two. I have a full.”
I run my hand over my face and groan. “I can’t wait for my feet to hang off.”
I shouldn’t have said that. She shouldn’t feel pressure to let me inside her home, and I don’t want her to think I’m expecting it, even though I am.
Thankfully, she chuckles at my response, and hope ignites in my chest. Maybe she’s picturing us cuddled in her tiny bed, my bare feet poking out from the end.
I glance at the nightstand to find the pair of tortoise shell glasses she set down moments ago. “These arehot.” I grin and place them on her face.
