“Nervous? Why?” he asks gently. “Your business is successful because you’ve earned it. Nothing is standing in your way.”
I swallow hard. “I’ve dreamt of a showing like this for years. I’m just… so close. What if I fuck it up? What if this is where I fail?”
The vulnerability slips through before I can stop it. I never do this. I hide everything. I wear that perfectly placed mask for the rest of the world.
Except it doesn’t work with him.
“Even if Marco doesn’t sign,” Drago says firmly, “that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means he has. There will be other artists. Other shows. You’ve already put your gallery on the map, baby. You’ve achieved so much already. You. Are. Incredible, Lily.”
I inhale slowly, trying to fight back the tears. “I’m being dramatic,” I mutter. “I’ll be fine.”
His jaw tightens. “You don’t have to brush anything off with me.” He tips my chin up so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Your fears matter. Talk to me. Don’t hide. Not from me. Please, baby. Let me in.”
My heart stutters. “You didn’t sign up to be my therapist.”
He chuckles softly. “Supporting you isn’t therapy. Talking helps. You are not a burden, Lily. Not now. Not ever. If something’s weighing on you, let me carry some of it.”
A tear slips free before I can stop it. “Where have you been all this time?” I whisper. “I could have used a man like you years ago.”
Something shifts in him, and he rests his forehead against mine. He opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it, subtly shaking his head. “I wish I’d have been there sooner,” he murmurs.
“You’re here now, moy zashchitnik.”
He kisses me gently.
“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly. “You’re always chasing the next height, the next goal. But don’t forget how far you’ve already climbed. You’re only getting started.”
No one has ever told me that before.
He pulls me into his chest, and I melt into him, my breathing evening out as the anxiety loosens its grip. “I’ll be there tonight,” he continues. “Across the room. Watching. Cheering you on. I’ll always be there for you.”
I hold him tighter. In his arms, the noise in my head fades. The weight lifts. That nagging voice telling me I’m not good enough shuts up. I didn’t even need the aftershave to calm me down. It was just him, being here for me.
Drago is helping me realize that it really is okay to just be who I am. I don’t have to hide from him; no matter how he sees me, he doesn’t falter. Nothing changes. He looks at me like I’m the most important person in the world to him.
I press my lips to the tattoo climbing up his throat, and he groans.
“Does my girl need a distraction before we leave?” he asks.
The way he calls me his makes my heart flutter.
“We’ve got five minutes,” I tease. “Do you do fast?”
He spins us suddenly, my back hitting the wall as I yelp.
“I can do anything for you,” he growls. “Anything you need.”
My leg hooks around his thigh as his hand slides under my dress, beneath my panties.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
His fingers sink inside me, and he kisses me hard, stealing the sound from my mouth.
“Good girl.”
His thumb circles my clit, and my head tips back, giving him my throat. My world narrows to his touch. It’s like he knows exactly what I need and when. And my body feels safe enough to forget my past. To let my walls down enough for him to actually pleasure me.
“So wet for me,” he groans. “So perfect.”
