Something darkly possessive squeezes around my heart.
“That’s my good girl,” I murmur softly as my gaze drifts upward instinctively right to the hidden camera in the corner of the room.
A slow smile spreads across my face as an idea settles into place.
This…
This is a memory I’m going to want. I have to review all the fucking video anyway because of the break-in. Unfortunately, I didn’t set cameras up in my bedroom, and there’s so many people who come in and out of the Ruck House, I’m not sure how fruitful that endeavor will be.
I reach into the front pocket of my hoodie and pull out my mask. When I look down at it, I realize I’ve had her scrunchie on my wrist. Yes. This is definitely a photo opportunity.
The fabric slides over my face easily, and I tilt my head slightly toward the camera. I move both of her legs over my shoulders and grip the top of one of the socks like I’m going to rip the fabric from her body. I really fucking want to.
I pose for the camera and make a mental note of the timestamp because I already know I’m going to want to print this and hang it above my bed.
Hundreds of them.
Maybe thousands.
One in every room of the house I’m going to buy my girl.
Livy stirs again, her eyes flutter open suddenly, and she gasps softly when she sees me standing over her.
But she doesn’t pull away.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” she murmurs sleepily, her eyes drifting shut again almost immediately. She’s still exhausted from years of terrible sleeping habits. She’s fighting what she so desperately needs. I know that feeling, and I think tonight it’s time we both give in.
While she’s distracted, I slip the scrunchie back into my pocket because I don’t really want to have the discussion right now about who I am and why I’ve been hiding that from her.
My boots hit the floor a second later, and then I’m climbing onto the bed beside her.
I push the mask up slightly so she can see my mouth when she opens her eyes.
“We’re not going to spend another night apart, baby.” I tell her. “I promise you’ll never have to sleep alone again.”
BASH
Ishould let her try to sleep.
I know that.
But the way she murmured my name, and the sight of my handwriting across her thigh…
It’s too fucking much.
I settle over her gently, careful not to put too much weight on her as my hands slide along her side, bunching her top up under her breasts. God, I fucking need her.
She lets out a soft little whimper, her eyes open again and roving all over what she can see of my face.
Without a word, she reaches up and pulls the mask the rest of the way off, dropping it onto the bed beside us.
“I thought you liked the mask,” I murmur.
Her cheeks flush slightly.
“I do. I just…” She hesitates, looking away for a second. “I like your face more.”
My fingers slide beneath her chin, guiding her face back toward mine.
