I suck in a breath. I didn’t really care for this game to begin with, but I really, really hate it now. This isn’t a casual fuck buddy type of conversation. “It’s from a surgery I had.”
Maddox stiffens beneath me, his finger finding the twin scar about ten inches from the first. I don’t give his mind time to wander, not sure what it’d come up with.
“I had a procedure done when I was nineteen. A bilateral salpingectomy.”
“Should I know what that is?” he asks, and it would sound dismissive if not for his genuine tone.
“It means I’m infertile. I had a procedure done to ensure I couldn’t have kids.”
The air is heavy. I’m glad I can’t see his face. He’ll probably ask why. Probably tell me I’mso young. Or maybe he’ll make it about him, since he doesn’t really seem to get the concept of casual. Maybe he’ll mourn the loss of the three kids he’d envisioned for us.
“Was it…” He clears his throat. “Was it a choice you made for personal reasons or was there something… wrong?”
“A personal choice.” I can’t tell him the real reason I made the decision, so I stick to one of the many, smaller reasons. “I just don’t want kids. I’m not very good with them and, if I’m being honest, I don’t see any positives of having them.”
He snorts and it takes me by surprise. I roll so that I can see his face and he adjusts me how he wants me from there. “Stop trying to pull me on top of you,” I argue, pushing his arms away. He huffs and pouts and I’m taken aback by his cavalier responseto the bombshell I just dropped on him. “You don’t care that I can’t have kids?”
“Not if it was something you chose for yourself rather than something you had to get done for health reasons, no,” he says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’recasual, Tex. Remember?” His voice is playful, but there’s a bit of resentment there. I act on the playfulness, rolling my eyes and tugging the hair on his chest. I won’t touch the resentment with a ten-foot pole.
“I know that, but I also know you probably still have this little fantasy in your head that one day we won’t be casual anymore, and if that fantasy includes children, you should get rid of it. The procedure’s irreversible.”
He hums, hand slipping down to rest on the small of my back. “So I can fantasize you’ll be mine one day and that’s fine, but I can’t fantasize about our little redheaded gremlins running around because that’s too unrealistic? What I’m hearing is that I have a shot at the first part.”
“You don’t have a shot at either part,” I tell him through gritted teeth and with narrowed eyes, but he still grins.
“At risk of scaring you off when you’ve already got one foot out the door, I don’t care that you can’t have kids, Austin. I’ve never really imagined myself as a dad, either. I’m too impatient.”
I don’t think that’s the truth at all. I’ve seen him at Sunday dinners with Callie, and I know how he treats his sisters. He’s as patient as they come, he just expects competence comparable to their skill set. He wouldn’t expect Callie to know how to saddle a horse, but he damn sure expects his ranch hands to. If she walked up to him, looking clueless, he’d help her through it the best he could. But if someone working for him did the same thing, he’d probably fire them on the spot.
“Your poor mama’s never gonna get grandkids,” I tell him, turning back over to settle against his side again, resting my head on his shoulder. He’s very comfortable, which is annoying.
His fingers thread through my hair as he laughs quietly. “Wekeep telling her Tyler and Tate are her best bet. You gotta work today?”
I shake my head. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone play with my hair before. At least not since Mom was alive. It’s really soothing.
“Good,” I barely hear him say. I don’t register that I’m falling asleep until I hear him speak again. “Tex?”
“Hmm?”
“This is submission, baby. It’s not me taking your power away from you. It’s you willingly handing me the reins and telling me how hard you want me to pull them. You have every bit of the power in a dynamic like this and there’s no shame in finding peace in it.”
I consider it through that lens. I’m not sure everyone thinks that way, but I believe Maddox does and I believe most dominants probably do. I had just twisted it into something wicked because I was feeling vulnerable. More often than not lately, he makes me feel that way through no fault of his own. We’re getting too close, but I can’t make myself pull away from him again.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He bends down to kiss the top of my head but it’s the only acknowledgment I get that he heard me. His fingers continue their journey through my hair and I shiver, curling closer to him.
Later, I’ll tell myself I only fell back asleep to force him into getting more rest himself. It was entirely unrelated to the hair thing he was doing.
Entirely.
Unrelated.
THIRTY-THREE
AUSTIN
After gettingmy voice damn near fucked out of me on Saturday, Maddox decides to postpone the whole cuff-and-vibrator thing until Sunday. It’s a decision I’m currently glaring at him for, cuffed to his headboard while he answers a call from his brother. We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.
