“It was. But I know you went through something similar with your dad.” She cups my jaw, and for some reason it hits me right in the chest. Apparently I like being taken care of, too.
That’s new.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “I’m guessing loss hits a bit different if you’re an only child.” Because the six of us had each other when our parents were out of our lives.
“I guess I had to grow up fast. All at once. I needed to make the kind of decisions I was never prepared for.” She lets out a long breath, like she’s all out of words.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s history,” she murmurs. Then she leans forward to put her lips on mine, like she needs the connection.
I move my mouth softly against hers, running my hands down her back. Trying to comfort her. Trying not to get hard.
And failing.
She feels it too. I know, because she rolls her hips against me, her movements completely deliberate. Her lips smiling against mine.
“You need to eat,” I remind her.
She lets out a long breath. “I just… want to not think for a while.” Her words sound like a plea.
And I want to do that for her. I want to help her get out of her brain, to just exist.
“You want me to help you?” I ask. And we both know what I’m asking.
Do you want me to fuck you until you forget your own name?
She nods again, her eyes so wide I could get lost in them. “Please.”
Christ, I could love this woman so easily if I let myself. I could happily come home to her every day. I could live to make her smile.
And then I would ruin her life.
I blink that thought away.
I run my finger over her jaw, down her cheekbones, then trace her lips. She parts them, exhaling softly, her breath warm against my skin.
“Go in my room. Take your clothes off. And wait for me.”
Her eyes soften, like I’ve said exactly what she needs to hear. She’s so damn perfect against my body I miss her as soon as she scrambles off me. And I realize that this is what she needs. For me to take away her thoughts, to make the decisions. To let her exist and forget about whatever it was that made her cry.
And I can do that. For her.
And for me, too.
I watch her walk into my room, waiting until she closes the door, then I make a quick phone call to the kitchen, asking them to bring toast, tea, and eggs in an hour, rollingmy neck to loosen the tension in my muscles before I hang up and stride to my bedroom.
Where she’s laid out on the bed like my favorite birthday gift, completely naked, and waiting for me.
Fuck. I can’t help but smile. Jesus, I’m a lucky bastard.
“Look at you,” I say softly, in a tone that’s praising but laced with a hint of darkness. “So ready and eager for me.”
Her breath catches. She likes this. The play. The power shift. And I like it too.
Watching her want to please me. It’s like a shot of adrenaline through my veins.
“Tell me what you want,” I murmur, taking my watch off, placing it on the dresser by the door.
