Page 168 of Ex Somnis

“Tell me three nice things about yourself,” I demand, cutting her off before she finishes burying herself in it.

“What?”

“Three nice things. About yourself. Say them.”

She stares at me with wide eyes. “Paul.”

“Three.”

“This feels like a trap.”

“It isn’t. I’ve thought of exponentially more than three in the past ten minutes. You can manage three.”

I wait, and she narrows her eyes at me, so I wait some more.

“Fine. I bake really good muffins.”

I raise an eyebrow, and she huffs.

“You said nice things. You didn’t specify categories.”

“Lennon.”

“Okay, okay.” She glances away. “I’m… I have pretty eyes.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Yes. That’s true.”

She rolls those pretty eyes at me.

“I…” She looks down at her hand, which is still cradling my belt buckle. “My nails are pretty.”

I take her hand and kiss the back of it, glancing down at the fresh citron-yellow polish. “Indeed, very pretty.”

Her brows furrow as she tries to find a third thing, and it makes me want to commit violence. To drive to Boston and track down her worthless ex and friends. Maybe take Ridge with me and let him loose on them, using his acid tongue to cut them down to nothing.

Or maybe beat them all with Nevan until they apologize for having any part in making this woman feel small.

“Really, Paul?” Lennon sighs dramatically. “I just wanted to give you a blowjob. Why are you making things hard on yourself?”

My cock twitches hard in my pants, asking me the same question.

But she’s not getting out of this. She’s too important, and it’s time she said it out loud.

“Darling. The third thing.”

She glares, then a smirk tugs at her mouth, and she whips her shirt over her head, tossing it behind her, leaving her in a black bra.

Goddamn.

“And I have these.” She’s playing dirty, thinking this deflection will work, but I play along.

“You do,” I agree, licking my lips while my hands itch to reach out for them. “Good girl. You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and hold her gaze, letting her see the raw desire I feel for her.

“A plastic plant looks perfect. Always green, never wilting, but that’s because it isn’t alive. It will never die, Lennon, but it will never live either. I don’t want a plastic plant. I don’t want a dream version of you. I want the real you, the version that is perfect for me.” I grab her chin again. “Every curve, every inch, every little imperfection you don’t like, I cherish. I love everything about you, and I can’t get enough of you. So, until you can say a third thing, and then a fourth and a fifth, I will be here to do it for you. Do you hear me?”

She nods, but I suspect she’s not all the way there yet.

That’s all right.