The thought is enough to have a cold sweat breaking out over my body.
I can’t rush him in this, can I? Either he’ll love me in his own time and his own way or…he won’t.
“Fuck,” I mutter, dropping my face into my hands.
Virginia gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Love’s a bitch, huh?”
“It’s the absolute best and worst thing.”
A vibration from my phone has me pulling the device from my pocket. Virginia shoots me a small, sympathetic smile before moving off down the bar to serve other customers. It’s a text from Lawson. Of course it is.
Law: Where are you?
Jesus, is the man at my house?
Me: Just grabbing a drink. I’ll be home soon.
Lawson sends me a picture. It’s him and Bell…on my goddamn couch.
Me: Lawson Darling, you get that cow off my furniture!
Tugging out my wallet, I throw a ten down before giving Virginia a goodbye wave. Another text comes through as I’m heading out the door. One that has my feet drawing to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.
It’s a picture of a coil of rope lying casually over the top of my couch.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My pulse is a swift staccato as I head toward my truck. He wants me to tie him up? Truly?
I wish I didn’t want that as damn badly as I do. It’s not even the thought of Lawson bound that has my blood pooling hot. It’s the fact that he trusts me. That he wants to lie on my bed, boneless with nowhere to go, while I turn his world inside out.
Andfuck, I want to give him that. I want to give himeverything. I want to take care of his pleasure, soothe his pain. I want Lawson to rely on me, to know he’s not alone in this world. I want to tuck him in at night, my body surrounding his, the man’s heart beating beneath my palm.
I want till death do us part with Lawson Darling.
I’m his. And no matter what else, there’s simply no changing that.
The drive home is short, even as every scant mile seems twice as long as usual. The lights are on inside my house, Lawson’s truck waiting in the spot beside my own. The stars are out tonight, faint flickers, reminding me of Peter Pan and flying on until morning.
My front door is unlocked, Lawson seated on the couch but Bell absent.
“That didn’t take you long,” he says in greeting, the rope still draped over the couch next to him, anything but innocent.
“Well, I had to make sure you weren’t letting my cow ruin the damn house.”
“Really? It didn’t have anything to do with this?”
Lawson taps the rope, his face impassive enough but a slight gleam in his eye.
“You’ve gotten cheeky,” I note, letting my boots hit the front mat.
He shrugs, tracking my movements. “Maybe I’m curious to find out what you’ll do to me when I’m tied to your bed.”
It feels as if my lungs have forgotten how to function. “That so?”
“I think if I asked for anything at all, you’d give it to me.”
I swallow, the motion rough. “I think you’re right.”
