Page 107 of She’s Worth the Risk

Her words from the summer come back to me, and while I know Labor Day has come and gone, that she hasn’t left yet, I also know she hasn’t promised me anything.

That she could leave at any time.

I push my glasses squarely up my nose, bracing for the worst. “What is it?”

Her eyes move between mine, bottomless and searching, and she takes a deep breath. “I… I love you.”

My heart stops.

“What?” I whisper, certain I’ve misheard her.

She lets out a tiny, self-conscious laugh. “I love you,” she repeats simply. No explanation, no justification, just those simple words.

She loves me.

Warmth spills through my chest. I stare at her, pulse racing as I try to process this. Here I thought she was going to leave, and instead she loves me? She loves me. This woman, so beautiful, so full of color and passion and life, loves me.

“Zinnia,” I begin, voice cracking. I don’t even know what to say. Don’t know how to express the deep, intense emotion I feel for her. Don’t know what words would ever be enough.

She squeezes my hand. “You don’t have to say it back. I know it’s a lot, but I wanted—”

“I love you too,” I say in a rush. “Fuck, honey. Of course I love you.”

A hopeful smile curls along her lips. “You do?”

I nod, tugging her closer. “I love you so fucking much, Zinnia.” I cradle her face, throat thick with emotion. “I didn’t know it was possible to love someone like this.”

Tears spring to her eyes, spilling over her cheeks. I wipe them with the pad of my thumb, blinking against the moisture in my own eyes.

She feels this. She wants this.

My chest could burst.

Our lips crash together, and she tugs at my jacket with impatient hands. “Nick,” she whimpers. “I’ve wanted you all day. Please.”

I know what she means. All day I’ve fought not to touch her, but now I let my hands trace her curves, following their outline in that dress. I walk her backwards into the bedroom, and she swipes something from her bag on the way, dropping it onto the nightstand. Then I toss my glasses aside and bury my face in her neck, slowly unzipping her dress. As gorgeous as she is in it, I much prefer her in nothing.

The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in a black strapless bra and matching panties. She tugs my blazer off, fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, and I take over, deftly unbuttoning each one, her burning gaze following the motion. The moment I toss the shirt aside, she pushes me onto the bed to straddle me.

“Finally,” she breathes, trailing kisses across my shoulder. I’m sure she’s talking about the wait from today, but there’s an intensity to her voice, to her actions, that suggests it’s more.

That maybe, just maybe, she’s talking about her entire life.

Her lips move from my shoulder to my chest, over my heart, to my tattoo. She traces it with her fingertip, expression reverent.

“I love you,” she whispers again, and my heart soars.

“I love you, honey. Come here.” I roll us onto our sides, wrapping her in my arms, kissing her deeply. Her tongue is insistent, sweeping urgently against mine, and my blood heats with need.

“I want to give myself to you, Nick.” She draws away, her eyes dark and hooded. “All of me.”

My dick jumps at the promise in her voice. I stare at her, the meaning of her words slowly sinking in.

“Are you sure?” I ask thickly.

She nods, reaching for a brown paper bag on the nightstand. “Yes. That’s why I stopped at the drugstore.” She pulls a bottle of lube from the bag, holding it up.

My jaw falls open. She’s actually thought about this. Planned for it, even. That’s how much she wants it. Wants to share that part of herself with me.