“When you take the next step, please be careful with him.”She studies me, searching for any hint that I don’t understand what she’s asking.“He was abused by men, and I don’t know how he’ll handle sex with a man or what that means for you and him.I assume you’ll be the… One in control?”
“The top?”
“I guess?”
I spot a pile of folded clothes on the table beside me and lift a brow in question.
She nods and watches me dress beneath the veil of her lashes, her gaze clinging to my tattoo.
“This is weird.”She pulls in a breath.
“Which part?”I drag on briefs, jeans, and anaggressively normalwhite shirt.
“All of it.Talking about sex, watching you dress, making plans for the future… Youknowthis is weird for us.”
“It is.But it’s necessary.”
“I don’t know much about your sexual history.”She exhales, shoulders loosening a fraction.“Only what I saw when I was younger.The things you did for money, the women in Cracker’s house, and the friends and boyfriends I found you in bed with, all of that was bad.Traumatic.”
“I’m sorry.”I erase the distance and step into her space.“I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning for the pain I inflicted.And yeah, I sold my body for the first five years we lived on the streets.That was the last time I bottomed for anyone.”
She looks up, meeting my eyes head-on.There’s no judgment there.She stares at me with concern and sadness, sparking a strange, new honesty between us.
“With Wolf…” She chews the inside of her cheek.“When you top him, it can’t feel like ownership or pressure.He needs choice.Safety.”
“I understand that.”And I do.More than she knows.“I appreciate you telling me.This—” I gesture between us.“This is vital.The talking and honesty.Instead of circling old land mines, we’re clearing new ground together.Without the yelling and wall punching parts.”
Her mouth curves into a small, uncertain smile.“If we’re going to do this, whatever this is, we can’t pretend the land mines don’t exist.”
“Agreed.”
“When you left Alaska, what did Wolf tell his family?”
“He didn’t dramatize it.He told them to be patient with his absence.Promised he’d be careful.He warned them it could be months before they hear from him.”I pause, choosing the truth carefully.“He told them this is his life now and that he needs their support.”
“Are they freaking out?”She swallows.
“They’re worried.But they see him.”I rest a knuckle under her chin, lifting it.“Wolf’s happy.That’s what they want more than anything else.”
She sits back and fidgets with her unruly braid, her fingers worrying at it as lines form between her eyes.She looks unsettled, out of place, and painfully, irresistibly beautiful.
I want her with every breath in my body, and it’s taking considerable concentration to keep my dick from responding.
“May I?”I nod at her hair.
The look she gives me burns bright and unguarded, illuminating her stunning face.She nods eagerly, letting a glimmer of eight-year-old Dove shine through.
I lift her down from the vanity, set her on her feet, and lead her to the bed.We fall into our customary positions as she sits between my knees, her back to my chest.
With patient hands, I untangle and smooth her soft hair, unable to stop myself from lifting the strands to my nose.
A rush of long-lost fragrances fills my lungs.Clean soap, California sunshine, and warm Dove skin.The scents unleash an avalanche of memories, drowning me in pinkie promises, pockets of stolen peanuts, open windows, and a Trail Cat named Little Jag.
My chest caves in, and stabbing heat pricks the backs of my eyes.
“You’re smelling my hair.”
“I’m reminiscing.”I let the strands fall to her back and steady myself.
