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Deacon kissed me again. “I’ll make us something light for lunch. I left one of my shirts on the bed for you to wear. Get dressed and come downstairs, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you, Deacon.”
He patted my ass through the towel and left the bedroom. I dried off and slipped Deacon’s t-shirt on before staring out the French doors into the backyard. It was snowing hard, and the wind still blew fiercely. As much as I enjoyed my Saturday with Deacon, I needed to leave before dark. Driving here last night in the dark in the middle of a blizzard had been terrifying, and I had no desire ever to do it again.
I headed toward the bedroom door and out into the hallway. I trailed my fingers along the wall as I walked slowly toward the stairs. God, I loved it here. It was peaceful, calm, and a million times better than my apartment. I’d stay here forever if I could.
Get your head out of the clouds, girl. Deacon doesn’t want a relationship with you. He was willing to pay for you to stay the night and have sex with him, remember?
Dull hurt flashed through me. I hated being upset by Deacon’s lack of real feelings for me. He’d been clear he wasn’t looking for a relationship, and just because he did nice things for me, like buy me glasses, didn’t mean he wanted more.
I’d spent the last two years alone because I couldn’t find a man who wouldn’t take advantage of me, and now I’d finally found him, and he just… wasn’t interested in more than sex. That dull hurt was now sharp and painful and digging at my chest, but I couldn’t blame Deacon. It wasn’t his fault I let myself fall in love with him. It wasn’t his fault that I’d almost blurted out last night that, for the first time, I finally had someone who actually loved me.
That would have been horribly embarrassing. Not just because Deacon didn’t love me but also because I made it sound like not even my parents loved me. They did love me. They just had a different way of showing it.
“Riley?” Deacon stood at the bottom of the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I walked down the stairs. “Have you changed your mind about lunch?”
“No,” he said. “You were taking a while, so I wanted to check on you.”
“I got lost,” I said solemnly. “But your bedroom alone is bigger than my entire apartment, so you can’t blame me for my poor house navigational skills.”
He laughed and tapped me lightly on the butt. “C’mon, smart ass. The soup is getting cold.”
* * *
“So, what do you think so far?” Deacon’s grin was eager and adorable.
“I like it,” I said.
Deacon paused the show, his grin still eager… still adorable. “Have you figured out who the killer is yet?”
“Not yet, but we just finished episode three,” I said.
He grinned at me. “I’m very confident I know who the killer is.”
“Well, la-dee-dah for you,” I said, and he laughed so hard that he nearly spilled his mug of hot chocolate.
I couldn’t help but giggle. I’d been surprised when Deacon had brought me to the family room after lunch to binge watch the latest season of his favourite television show instead of fucking me on the couch like I’d assumed. He’d made hot chocolate, wrapped a cozy blanket around us and urged me to cuddle with him while we watched the show.
It had been very… domestic, and my rapidly falling heart had soaked up the attention even as my brain rattled out increasingly alarmed warnings that Deacon was only being nice.
“Are you sure you’re enjoying it?” Deacon asked. “I don’t watch much TV, but this is my favourite show, and I’ve been waiting for weeks to carve out some time to start the new season.”
“I’m sure,” I said. “It’s a good show, Deacon.”
“It’s the best show,” he corrected me before reaching for the remote. “Let’s start episode four.” Before he could hit the play button, I pushed the blanket back and untangled myself from his warm, lean body.
“That sounds nice, but I have to go,” I said as I stood.
He scowled, standing up and following me into the kitchen. I rinsed my mug and put it in the dishwasher before smiling at him. “Thank you, Deacon. I had a great time.”
“Then you should stay,” he said, pulling me into his embrace and kissing my throat. “It’s not even four o’clock. Stay with me, good girl.”
I was tempted, especially when I felt the thick ridge of his erect cock pressing into my stomach. But it hadn’t stopped snowing all day and was snowing even harder now. My anxiety deepened just thinking about how bad the roads would be.
Deacon cupped my breast, his fingers brushing my hardening nipple. “You should stay. We haven’t even had sex yet today.”
