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“Yes. That you’re important to me.”
“That’s it?”
Now, he narrows his eyes. “What do you mean, that’s it?”
“I don’t want to be important to you. I want to be everything to you.”
He searches my eyes. “Done.” My heart skips a beat as I gaze up at him. “I haven’t been in a relationship for fourteen years, baby girl. I’m not sure if I know how to anymore, but I want to try. With you.”
Ha! Suck it, Elliot and Alex.
I try not to react to his words, try not to giggle and do a little dance. Instead, I ask, “So, what do I say to anyone who wants to date me?”
He makes a very dark noise that lets me know he doesn’t like the idea of someone else wanting me. “That someone owns you.”
I give him a look. “Do I own you?”
His eyes soften as he runs his thumb along my lips. “Completely.”
We lock eyes, and then he’s kissing me again with so much passion, I feel him deep in my soul.
The weight of his words hits me like a thousand frozen pucks.
I own Riggs McCoy.
But he doesn’t want anyone to know.
I’m not sure how that makes me feel, but it’s hard to think when his mouth is devouring mine.
CHAPTER 21
Riggs
Well, I just tossed all my cards out there on the table for her to see.
For Clara to know how much she affects me. How deeply I already feel for her when I’ve only known her a week. I don’t understand how I’ve gone so long without even wanting more than a fuck from a woman to now wanting all of Clara. For her to know that I don’t like other men looking at what is mine. I know Gavin isn’t even on my level. I am a man; he’s a mere boy, and my baby girl wants a man. She wants me.
Thank fuck.
Jesus, how she came apart on my cock is engrained on my soul. Watching her ass turn bright red from my punishment has me harder than a goal pipe and needy as fuck for her. I can’t explain it. How crazy she makes me. How possessive I get when I look into her navy-blue doe eyes. I needed her to know she is mine.
All mine.
It’s insane, but I can’t help but think of a poem my ma had cross-stitched for her and Da’s bedroom. I think I still have itpacked away somewhere, and I have this need to find it. Not only because I miss my parents but because the poem reminds me of Clara. It was by Robert Burns, and to this day, I still remember the lyrics.
To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever;
For Nature made her what she is. And never made anither.
I don’t know why it just came into my head, but it has, and now I can’t kick it out. But with the good thoughts come the bad. Did I fuck up? Am I allowing myself to feel so much for someone when I know I shouldn’t? When I know I failed once and probably will again? Though, with that thought, did I truly fail, when I gave my life to Peppa and she threw it back in my face? That’s a thought I never even considered. For so long, I allowed what Peppa did to ruin me, to hold my failure over my head, but then Clara came barreling into my life like her fool of a dog, and I seem to have forgotten all my past pain and trauma.
It’s insane.
It’s enlightening.
It’s fucking terrifying.
As I stand at the counter, alone, putting the final touches on dinner, lemon shrimp linguine with fresh Caesar salad and garlic bread, I worry I may have jumped the gun. I may have lost control and acted without thought.
