“Wanna bet?” he asked.
“Yep,” I answered.
“You healed me.”
I clamped my mouth shut, shocked, moved, and trying not to let the latter penetrate.
“Gave me what I’m about to give you,” he went on, pulling his shirt off his shoulders, exposing his amazing chest.
With all that, I was trying not to let other things penetrate, primarily what I was feeling between my legs with the knowledge of what he was offering me (not to mention, the vision of his chest).
“Trusted me,” he kept at me. “Trusted me completely by taking me and my shit on and believing in me. But you proved how deep that trust ran by trusting me with that sweet little body of yours, letting me give you what you needed, letting me open up a world for you. You gave me that gift. Then you let me give you a sink.”
I blinked.
“And a mirror,” he continued, toeing off his boots.
“I—”
“Not stupid enough to know I’d win every fight, but you taught me I could take care of a woman again. You taught me I could be trusted with her. You taught me I could make her laugh and smile and you gave me back what it feels like, doin’ that for a woman you love.”
I couldn’t reply. All I could do was let the woman you love part sink deep, powerless to fight it at the same time thinking, God, what had his wife done to him?
His hands went to his belt. “Showed me a strong woman doesn’t need keeping, but feels good to take care of her all the same. Better, you gotta fight for that privilege. You taught me a lot of things, Cassidy,” he finished and then pulled down his jeans.
He straightened and he was hard, beautifully thick and hard, and my mouth watered.
My eyes shot from his cock to his when he whispered, “Try me, baby.”
“You want me to tie you to the bed?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”
I stared at him.
He’d walked out on me.
Six months, nothing, leaving me to believe he was married and I was an unwitting adulteress, but an adulteress all the same. Took all his magnificence away and made me feel more lonely than I’d ever felt in my life, lonely in a way that feeling knitted to every muscle, every tendon, making it hard to move, go about my days, all the time forced to fight against it just to be able to breathe.
I should tell him I wanted him to walk away and never come back.
I listened to yours. A million fuckin’ times, I listened to it.
He stood there, Deacon, naked and erect in front of me.
Beautiful war.
My voice moved through the room. “I wanna tie you to the bed.”
Without a second’s delay, he turned and climbed on the bed.
My knees got weak.
I watched in shock, amazement, warmth, and excitement as badass Deacon settled on his back and turned his eyes to me.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he said gently.
God, was I going to do this?