Page 54 of Newly Tied

“Yes, you do. Tell me.”

His eyes searched my face.

“Go on,” I prodded him.

“I—it’s stupid and⁠—”

“It’s not stupid. What do you need from me that you didn’t need from any of the others?”

He sucked in a breath. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Figure out what I was trying to say? Are you a mind reader?”

“With you, I’m pretty close.” I smiled at him.

“That’s what I mean. You get me, you know me, but because you do, and this is more…see, usually I don’t need to… but with you––”

“You need somethin’ more,” I concluded, certain I was right.

“Yeah. You have to tell me you want me. I need the words. You’re gonna have to say how you feel all the time, and that sounds so weak and⁠—”

“No,” I soothed him, rolling to my side, taking his face in my hands. “No one had to tell you anythin’ before because it didn’t matter, you didn’t care. But now you do.”

His eyes filled fast, and I understood. For one, it was very late, or very early—either way, it had been a long-ass day. And for two, this was new for both of us, a lot of emotion running back and forth between us like current through a wire.

“So you know, I feel the same.”

“You do?” He sounded surprised.

“Of course. It’s all well and good to say yeah, actions speak louder’n words, but we have our voices for a reason, and one of ’em is to tell the person we love what they mean to us.”

He was staring at me so hard.

“And though I do in fact think of myself as a bit of a mind reader where you’re concerned,” I said gently, playfully, “I don’t rightly know all the things that are in your heart unless you tell me.”

“Yes.”

“And I’ll do the same. Because I’ve wanted to say, but I’ve been too scared.”

“You’ve been scared to say what?”

“I’ll tell you in the shower,” I rumbled before kissing him, a quick brush of my lips over his, then let him go and sat up. “Come on.”

I rolled off the bed and stood there watching him, so entranced for a moment, admiring this beautiful man who now belonged to me, that I was surprised when he nearly took a header because he didn’t quite get his feet under him.

“You all right?” I baited him.

If looks could kill.

“Man, you are tired,” I continued goading him, chuckling, but went mute as soon as he started pulling off his clothes.

“So what if I—what are you doing?” He stopped with his shirt off, hands on his belt.

“I’m lookin’ at you.” I saw the flush hit his cheeks, and I moved close, crowding him. “You like knowin’ I think you’re gorgeous.”

“You think I never noticed you looking at me, but I did, and I liked it.”