“Even knowing all it takes is one punch to kill you? That if I were to lose my temper one time, I could do irreversible damage?”
He rolled his eyes. “Flynn, I’ve never seen you lose your temper even once. And besides, you know now what harm you could do. It’s why you didn’t hit that guy at the pool hall, right? You only pushed him away.”
“It doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen,” I said. “I’m not infallible. You know how they talk about people being armed and dangerous? I’m always a weapon.”
“And so was Aiden’s dad,” Bailey said, looking me square in the eye. “He hurt your brother on purpose. You were just trying to save him. There’s a big difference. I have faith that you’d never intentionally hurt me, and that’s enough.”
“But what if?—”
Bailey leaned in and kissed me. “I can see I have my work cut out for me. Come on. Take me to bed and show me how gentle you can be. Your body isn’tonlya weapon.”
I was powerless to resist an invitation like that. We left the remains of our food on the bar, and I followed Bailey to the bedroom.
We climbed into bed—him in his underwear and me in all my clothes—and kissed.
There was no hurry this time, and I enjoyed getting to know the taste and feel of him pressed up against me. I stroked every inch of his body I could reach—his arms, the back of his thighs, the curve of his hips and ass.
Bailey pushed his hands under my sweatshirt, tracing them up to my pecs and squeezing.
“Fuck, this body is a work of art, Flynn. Do you know that?”
“No.”
Bailey tugged at the fabric. “Take off your shirt.”
I pulled it over my head and cast it aside. Bailey leaned in and pressed a kiss to the center of my chest. He cupped my shoulders, squeezing gently, then slowly ran his hands down my arms. His fingers passed over a crude prison tattoo, and I inwardly cringed, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“This strength of yours is sexy because it’s controlled,” Bailey murmured. “You can put it to good use, picking me up and throwing me around in bed.”
I laughed a little and grabbed his waist, flipping him onto his back and hovering over him. “That does sound like a good use for it.”
Bailey spread his knees to cradle me and coasted his hands along my flanks. “And you protected me the other night without hurting anyone.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I wanted to hurt him, though. For hurting you.”
There was still faint bruising around his left eye, a pale green now that it had mostly healed.
I bent and placed a gentle kiss there.
Bailey wrapped an arm around my neck, drawing me closer until I was cuddled against him. As if I were the smaller, younger one.
“You take such good care of me. But now, I’m going to take care of you.” He nudged me. “Take off your pants.”
“That wasn’t in the royal decree.”
“A grave oversight,” Bailey said. “I suppose it’s your choice whether you keep them on.”
“In that case…” I rolled out of bed and shucked the rest of my clothes. Bailey grinned as he watched me, eyes appreciative as they skated over my form.
I’d spent a lot of time hating my body. Hating my size and strength. Feeling trapped inside a weapon I didn’t want.
But right now, with Bailey looking at me with so much heat, a flicker of pride warmed my insides.
Bailey liked my body. Bailey wanted me, even with all my messy history. If he could accept that I wasn’t the sum of my parts—if he could look at me likethat, knowing that I’d killed a man—then maybe I wasn’t all bad.
“Get over here,” Bailey ordered, and I eagerly returned to the bed.
Bailey pushed me onto my back. “I think I need more practice with this giant dick.”
