Page 99 of Floodgates

He wrapped his left arm around my stomach and slid his right hand under my arm, and across my chest, then closed it around my throat, tipping my head back. “You swore, Trace, and in bed is where promises are made.”

I was trying to start breathing regularly again. “Actually, lying is what usually happens in bed.”

“No. Not with us. Never with us.”

And he was right. My soul had been on display moments before, more naked than I had ever been in my life.

“Say it,” he prodded me, nuzzling his face into the side of my neck. “Tell me you’re gonna keep me.”

I chuckled softly and felt him tense behind me.

“Trace.” He growled.

“Of course I’m keeping you,” I soothed him, clutching his forearm, turning my head so his lips touched my cheek. “I want you in my bed and in my house as soon as we get home.”

He hugged all the remaining air from my body, but that was okay; I didn’t need to breathe. I had just claimed the man I’d always wanted: body, soul, heart, head. All of him belonged to me. Oxygen was a secondary consideration.

MY PHONE softly buzzing woke me up, and I realized my cheek was plastered over Cord’s heart. Somehow I had wound up draped on top of him with his arms wrapped around me. And while it could not have been comfortable for him, I had slept like a rock, which was probably what I felt like on his chest.

Gently, slowly, I extricated myself from his arms, rolled free, and reached for my phone on the nightstand. It was late, four in the morning, and I had a text from Ira telling me I needed to call him the following day and give him an update too. Apparently secondhand information from Matt was not making him happy. I noticed I had a new e-mail as well, something that had come in hours before. When I checked, it was from Cord, and I had test results in my inbox from a month earlier. It was sweet of him to have sent it even though I had missed it entirely. I too had a document at home that proclaimed me disease free, mine from five months ago, when I got myself tested after Breckin cheated on me. And as there had been no one since him, I knew I too was in the clear.

“What are you doing?” Cord rumbled sleepily.

I turned to look at him and smiled before leaning close and tracing a finger down the long, straight line of his nose.

“Don’t worship me now. Close your eyes.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Worship you?”

“Yeah, well, you think I’m gorgeous, so it’s gonna happen.”

Grunting, I bent and kissed him. He opened for me, sliding one hand in my hair and using the other to untangle the blankets and sheets between us until we were once again skin to skin.

“I have a piece of paper at home too,” I said between kisses, “so you know what we did wasn’t dangerous.”

“It never crossed my mind to worry about you. You’re too much of a Goody Two-shoes.”

“I beg your pardon?”

His husky chuckle was very sexy, and when he rolled me to my back under him, I parted my legs so he could slip easily between my thighs.

“You’re not the fuck-around kind of guy, Trace, it’s never been you.”

I would have argued, tried to make myself sound more adventurous, but I had a sneaking suspicion my need to have more than five minutes of connection before fucking in a bathroom stall was something he liked about me.

“So that’s how I know taking you to bed without protection was no big deal,” he husked.

“It’s a big deal to me.”

“You know what I meant. Don’t bait me.”

“Okay,” I relented.

He cleared his throat. “Are you sore?”

“No,” I answered, wiggling under him, edging up enough so that the head of his cock bumped against my hole. “Why?”

“Don’t tease,” he groaned softly.