Page 125 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“Because everything I just said.”

“Sienna,” he rasps. “Look at me,” he demands, making me realize I’ve dropped my gaze to my lap so I don’t have to watch him leave. “Darlin’.” That one word is like a shot straight through my heart, and my eyes shoot up.

My breath catches at the compassion I find there, and when he reaches for my hand, twists our fingers, and pulls me closer once more, a sob erupts.

He gathers me in his arms and holds me tight. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers in my ear, ensuring I completely break down on his shoulder.

His hold on me doesn’t falter as the anxiety and fear over telling him all that and watching him turn his back on me drains from my body.

“I’ve never told anyone that before,” I confess into his neck after long minutes.

“Thank you for trusting me with it.”

His words settle in me, and I realize for the first time since college, I do actually trust a man.

I pull back and look into his eyes. The anger has mostly faded, but it still lingers. But there’s also desire swimming there.

“Please,” I whisper. “Please don’t make me regret it.”

His breath tickles over my face as he leans forward and rests his forehead against mine.

“I won’t hurt you, Sienna. I promise.”

36

CALVIN

Fury rattles through me as I stare into Sienna’s gray eyes. No one has the right to treat her that way. No one.

She’s…she’s so fucking perfect, and deserves to be treated like a queen.

“Calvin,” she whispers, her eyes hooded and her cheeks flushed.

“I’m here,” I promise, desperately forcing my need to go and hurt someone for what they did to her out of my system, so I can focus on her instead.

“I…” she bites down on her bottom lip, second-guessing what she wants to say.

I stay quiet, giving her the time she needs to process her thoughts. I can only imagine how fast her head is spinning after that confession.

“I…I trust you.”

Fuck.

Those words hit me like a puck to the chest.

Before I can stop myself, I lean forward, our noses bump, and my lips find their home against hers.

My hand slides to the back of her neck, allowing me to angle her exactly how I want her. The second her tongue pushes between my lips, I’m fucking lost.

My hand squeezes her waist as I dive in, and it seems she isn’t any different.

Her hands slide up my chest before her arms loop around my neck, anchoring me to her.

“Give me a safe word,” I tell her when I eventually pull back, my lips trailing along the line of her jaw toward her neck.

She hesitates.

“I don’t care what the word is. I just don’t trust ‘stop.’ How can I tell the difference between the fake cry of stop when I’ve found your G-spot, and you don’t think you can take any more but are desperate for it, and the other kind?”