“Erin.” The thought of her comparing herself to anything on a screen makes my stomach drop out from inside of me. I never want her feeling like she’s not enough.
She barrels on, voice shrinking.
“I tried to tell myself I was overthinking. Bella wasn’t here, and I was already feeling… insecure. And then Griff…” She groans and rolls her eyes. “He decided to be a menace.”
My brows lift. “What do you mean?”
“He turned into an annoying big brother,” she huffs. “He could tell I was bothered and kept poking until I told him. And then he offered advice I didn’t ask for.”
“This should be interesting. What did he say?”
She sighs dramatically. “That you didn’t want or need me to try and twist myself into a pretzel to impress you because you’re already ‘wussy-whipped.’ His words, not mine. But if I really wanted to do something for you, I should use feather dusters and handcuffs and—” She glares at the wall, cheeks flaming. “That I should call you a good, pretty boy. Because tickling makes you, uh, finish… harder.”
I barely suppress a laugh, and she looks up, her nose scrunching as her mortification practically radiates off her.
So. Fucking. Adorable.
It turns into a soft chuckle as I try to rein it in.
“One—nevertalk to your brother again about what he thinks I might like because he’ll say shit like that. Deal?”
“Yeah, I got that,” she mutters.
“Two—youdrive me crazy. Your body, your lips, your touch. The way you want me. The way you see me. The way your eyes shine with trust when you’re vulnerable or nervous. It turns me on, baby. All of you turns me on. I love that you trust me to make you feel special.”
I kiss her cheek.
“You.”
I kiss her other cheek.
“Drive.”
Another kiss to her lips.
“Me.”
A kiss to the back of her ear.
“Wild.”
“Stop,” she says breathlessly. I know she’s saying it to my words and not my kisses.
“I can’t get enough of you, okay?”
She nods, her eyes glazed over.
“Three—I wasn’t watching anything on any website. It was probably a pop-up.”
I lean forward and put my lips next to the shell of her ear. “Four—yourpussy has me seeing stars. Every. Fucking. Time.”
Her breath hitches.
“Five—I love you,” I murmur. “And I’ll show you and tell you every damn day for as long as you’ll have me. I’m never going anywhere. I’ll never need anything more than just you. It’s you and me, baby. Always will be. Tell me you understand.”
“I do,” she says. Her shoulders slump, relaxing back against the wall, but there’s still a slight furrow that remains between her brows.
“That’s not the whole story. Tell me what else is swirling in that pretty head of yours.”
