“And as for the cost, we’ll figure something out,” he says.
“What are you talking about?”
His eyes capture mine, and I’m left breathless. This man is breathtaking. Handsome and rugged. So attractive even though I suspect he doesn’t believe it to be so.
“Exactly what I said. We’ll figure out how to make it work cost-wise. Besides, I know Scotty will feel better having a system set up with Sarah there. He’s whipped.”
“You don’t have to do that, Tucker. You’ve already done so much—”
“I want to. And it’ll help the club. We’ve had too many guys come back to the clubhouse hopped up on a sugar high. Do me a favor?”
Right now, I’ll do just about anything he wants me to. “What’s that?”
“Make them pay for the food they eat when they’re there. You don’t need to give away that much free stuff.”
I just smile. “It’s my way of repaying them for helping keep us feeling safe.”
“Seriously, Phoebe, charge them. You deserve to get paid for what you do. You’re good at it.”
If only he realized his compliment shot straight to my heart. Something about Tucker has captivated me since the day we met, and I’m starting to fall for him. As much as everything in me tells me it’s a bad idea, and I’ll only get hurt, I can’t help it.
There’s something exciting about Tucker Vega. And he has so many layers, it’s like peeling back an onion.
Luckily, I like onions.
Chapter Eight
Phoebe
Waking up with a moan, I lie in the guest bed sweating. It’s the fifth sex dream I’ve had about Tucker. All of them should scare me, but they excite me instead.
In each and every one of them, I’m unable to move. He’s free to do whatever he wants, and everything he wants feels so damn good.
“You okay, Yellow Crayon?” Tucker calls as he opens the door without knocking.
I’ve suspected he could hear me even with the door closed, but he never says anything. Brushing the hair from the damp skin of my face, I swallow. “Yeah, it was just a dream.”
“Sounded like a damn good one.”
Oh God, I hope I didn’t call out his name. “It was… an experience.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I want to relive it. I have since the first night I spent here with him. The way he changed into the caring version of himself when I freaked out had me aching for him in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“No, that’s okay.”
Rather than leave, he walks into the room, and the dim light from the hallway does little to allow me to see more than just a shadow of him. “Are you sure?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask any question you want. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer it, though.”
Tucker’s response makes me smile, and knowing he can’t see it makes it better somehow. I suspect he knows it’s there, though. “When you go to your… friend for sex, you said it’s because you have particular tastes. Are those particular tastes that you don’t like to be touched?”
“Why do you ask that?”
Here goes nothing. For some reason, I want to share everything with him. Well,almosteverything. “In my dreams, we’re, uh, we’re having sex. Except I’m always tied up so I can’t touch you. Is that how you like it?”
