“You don’t have to wear them,” I offered, slightly disappointed but not surprised by his reaction. “You can hang them from the rearview mirror of your truck or something.”
His eyes lifted to me but they gave nothing away.
What gave it away was when his hands lifted, he opened the chain and dropped it over his head to settle the chain around his neck.
“You don’t have to wear them, honey,” I repeated softly though I kind of wished he would since they looked freaking great on him.
“We’re in bed,” was his strange reply.
“Uh… yeah.”
“Don’t like bringin’ her here.”
Uh-oh.
I braced and asked, “Who?”
“Naomi.”
Oh boy.
“Kane –”
“She never gave me anything.”
I blinked.
Then I whispered, “She never gave you anything?”
“Birthdays, yeah. Christmases, yeah. For the f**k of it, ‘cause she was out somewhere and thinkin’ of me,” he held my eyes, his getting heated then he finished with his voice a low rumble, “no.”
“Handsome,” I breathed.
“You gave me this,” he wrapped a fist around the dogtags and gave them a yank, “so I should express my gratitude but I’m in a certain mood which means you’re also now gonna give me head.”
My ni**les started tingling.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, after, or maybe during, I’ll return the favor,” he went on and someplace else started tingling too. When I didn’t move he asked, “You gonna sit on your ass starin’ at me or wrap your mouth around my cock?”
“Do you like them?” I asked quietly.
“I’m never taking them off,” he declared.
Wow.
“Never?” I whispered.
“Not ever,” he returned.
God, I loved him.
“Babe, want your mouth,” he prompted and I didn’t move. “About now,” he growled.
His intensity wasn’t about getting head.
It was about the dogtags.
Yeah, my man liked them.