And he had a kickass Dyson fan pointed at the bed, so I knew he was a white-noise-while-sleeping man—I mean, did we fit or what?
He even had a gallery wall that, when I gave him a look after checking out all the kickassedness that was framed on it, he shrugged and said, “I get into art.”
Yeah, he did, and he had an eye.
He even had a dining room space with an actual table.
Like a grownup.
Which was where we were, eating his awesome food.
“No, my steak is awesome,” I told him. “What sucks is that you’ve totally got it way more together than me.”
“Babe,” he muttered, before shoving more sprouts in his mouth.
“Please tell me your mother, or even some ex-girlfriend, decorated your house,” I begged.
He chewed and shook his head.
“So you’re good at interior design too?” I squeaked.
“I can pick a couch,” he stated.
“And rugs. And art. And freaking coffee table books.”
He grinned at me. “I like Annie Leibovitz.”
I shook my head, speared a new potato and chewed on it angrily.
“I don’t get why this is an issue,” Boone noted, watching me chew.
“Well, you wouldn’t, because you’re the together one in this relationship.”
“I wasn’t the last three days.”
That shut my mouth.
“My woman had it together,” he went on. “She reached out. She kept us connected, even when she wasn’t getting anything in return. She had it together trying to keep us together. And I was a dick.”
“Boone, you weren’t a dick,” I said quietly.
“I was a dick.”
“Okay, you were a dick, but then you stopped being a dick and that’s all over. It’s behind us.”
“Your pad is kickass too,” he pointed out.
“I am dark and you,” I motioned with a wide swing of my fork, “are way light.”
“Can’t have light without dark, can’t have dark without light. Fit seems perfect to me,” he muttered, forking into a piece of steak he cut.
I watched him put it in his mouth.
God, how, even after our dramatic snafu, did he keep getting better?
“Got an answer for everything, don’t you, baby?” I whispered.
He was slightly bent over his plate, so it was sexy as all hell when he lifted just his eyes to me, swallowed and said, “Yup.”
“Just so you know, all that was my way of saying I dig your space and I dig you can cook.”
“Got that, Rynnie.”
I smiled at him.
He smiled back.
Then I stuck my fork into some Brussels sprouts, informing him, “You do know this means you’re doing all the cooking.”
“Don’t mind that,” he said.
“I’m hell on wheels in a grocery store though,” I shared. “So I can do that.”
“Nope, grocery shopping together,” he declared.
“But I can take that chore.”
“I like the idea of being out with you.”
Well, that was sweet.
But.
“It’s just the grocery store.”
“Ryn, you’ve had boyfriends.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’ve had Doms.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Have you had both in one guy?”
I shook my head.
He put his fork down, sat back, and I braced because I knew something big was coming.
I was not wrong.
“Then you best know what you signed up for, Rynnie.”
Yep.
Something big was coming.
I put my fork down.
He watched.
Then he launched in.
“You’re gorgeous,” he announced.
Oh boy.
My heart was hammering again.
“Boone,” I whispered.
“You’re gorgeous and you’re mine.”
Now my breath was quickening.
“Part of what I get off on is that. I can take you out, and you’re gorgeous, and men are gonna look at you, and want you, but you’re mine. But more,” he leaned toward me, “in other very important ways, you…are…mine.”
Yup, now practically panting.
“I own your pussy, Kathryn, and I’m gonna do what I want with it, and you’re gonna let me.”
I squirmed in my chair.
“I own your mouth and I’m gonna fuck it and you’re gonna suck me for as long as I tell you to, and I’m gonna do whatever the hell else I wanna do with that mouth, and you’re gonna let me do that too.”
I was captured by his gaze, captivated by his words, unmoving, unspeaking.
Just feeling.
A lot.
All good.
So, so gooooood.
“Every bit of you. Your ass. Your tits. Every inch of