. . .
Maggie
There is absolutelyno reason for me to go back to my bed.
I wear Dermot’s clothes when I’m not naked, and he has plenty of books for me to read when we aren’t trying to devour each other.
I didn’t even grab my laptop because I don’t need my characters to feel like I’m living anymore.
Dermot gives me all those feelings and more.
It’s only been two days since we started having sex, and I know I’m dick drunk on him, but I also know I’m falling hard for him. I realize that’s ridiculous, that it hasn’t even been two weeks, but everything I learn about him, I absolutely adore. I love taking baths with him, I love cooking with him, and most of all, I love just being together. Both of us reading as Kip lies across us.
It’s perfect.
It’s everything I’ve craved, and what I love most is how much he’s been smiling.
He isn’t running from me anymore; he’s running right to me.
When I enter his apartment, I hear the shower running as I greet Kip. If I weren’t bundled up for the sunny January day, I’d go in there to join Dermot. I took a shower over at my place then got ready before coming back over here so we can head to the market.
“Babe?” he calls out, and I smile.
Between babe and pretty girl, the man has my heart in a vise.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I call back as I love on Kip. “I’d join you in there, but I have layers on.”
“Damn cold weather is a cockblock.”
“I’ve always thought that,” I agree, and his laughter flows out to me, making me grin even harder.
I move toward his three bookcases by the windows. Each one is dark green with gold-lined shelves. They’re so pretty and so clean. Dermot is like that, very put together and maybe a bit OCD, but I like it. My ex was such a slob, and it caused me to become the same. I can’t help myself sometimes, especially when I’m deep into a deadline, but Jason made me so much worse. I’ve gotten better over the years, but after being with so many disgusting men, it’s nice to be with a man who takes pride in his space and wants to keep it neat.
Dermot has a lot of titles, but when I find that he has every single one of my books, not only trade paperbacks, but all my special editions, my heart explodes in my chest. Jason never believed in my writing, and when I date, everyone has always called it a little hobby. Saying I write porn for women. But here is Dermot, proudly showing me off.
“I can explain.” I whip around to find him shrugging on his shirt, his muscles rippling. “I love your words. And I know—sorry if that’s weird—but, babe, you tell a hell of a story.” My lips break into a wide grin. “Okay, and I’m obsessed with everything you do.”
God. How in the hell am Inotsupposed to fall for this guy?
I move across the room, and he opens his arms for me before I even get to him. He wraps me up, nuzzling my ear with his nose before hugging me tightly to his wide chest. I close my eyes, snuggling deep in his warmth. Against his chest, I say, “No one I know has a collection of my books like that.”
“You’re my favorite author,” he says, kissing my temple. “It’s not weird, is it?”
I shake my head. “No. I think it’s sweet.”
“Well, damn. I wish I had known you’d think that. I was so embarrassed, I wouldn’t approach you.”
“Oh,” I say, pulling back to look at him. “I thought you didn’t approach me because you were intimidated by my gorgeous face.”
His eyes burn just for me, that smile of his blinding as he gathers me closer. “It was a combination of all that and the fact that I’ve never wanted anyone as desperately as I want you.”
I kiss his jaw. “I’m so glad I got knocked out by a cock.”
He kisses my nose. “Me too.”
“Even though I’d rather be knocked out by yours.”
He waggles his brows. “Me too.”
