Page 121 of Run to Me

Miguel gasps, outraged that anyone has the audacity to consider themselves first.

Marcus narrows his eyes at the others—a silent threat.

They bicker among themselves, and Jensen whistles to get their attention. “Thank you for proving my point. We all love Maisy, but I’m the person she cherishes most, so I’ll remain standing while you four take your seats.”

Pouting, huffing, and grumbling under their breaths, the four sit down, not pleased with his joke. Then Jensen sets his phone on the table and addresses me as if we’re alone.

“Maisy, you allow people to love you in the shadows, but everyone here wants to love you in the light—proud and out loud. We respect the hell out of you. In fact, most of us have come to you for help or advice because you’re trustworthy and you accept us as we are.” Murmurs of agreement float around the table before he continues. “There’s something intriguing about you that makes people want to scale your walls. For those of us who succeed, the rewards are endless. Your smile is a gift. Your sense of humor keeps us on our toes. And your heart…it’s loyal, protective, and bigger than you let on. We’re lucky to call you a friend. And despite several people at this table claiming to be your best friend, I’m honored to have been the first to hold that title. Happy birthday, beautiful. Cheers.”

A chorus of cheers and birthday wishes rings out, but I stare at Jensen in awe, tears streaming down my cheeks. When he winks at me and sips his champagne, all is right in my world.

He organized a themed birthday party—a first for me—and invited all the people I love. He gave a speech and crushed it. I’m so proud of him, and I’m beyond grateful to have him in my life. I plan on expressing my gratitude many times over when we get to his house.

42

MAISY

“Are you mad about the party?” Jensen asks as he empties his pockets on the kitchen counter.

“Not anymore. You sort of made up for it with your speech.”

“Sort of?”

I lift myself onto the center island and shrug. “You won’t have my complete forgiveness until you give me a gift.”

Alarm flares in his eyes. “I didn’t think about a gift.”

Humming, I drag up the hem of my dress and point to a spot on my exposed inner thigh. “Right there.”

His gaze snaps to mine. “What?”

“This is where I want my gift.”

“Explain.”

I hold out a hand. “Come over here.”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot before he approaches. I place his hand between my legs, and he runs the back of his knuckles along my panties.

“Your panties are soaked. Why?”

I lick my lips, nervous about voicing my fantasy. The thought of it actually happening floods my cheeks and my core with heat. “I want you to bite me.”

He’s bitten me a few times when we’ve had sex, and I’m curious to find out if the biting intensifies my orgasms. I have a feeling I know the answer already.

His eyes pop wide open in surprise. “Bite you? On your thigh?”

“I just want to try it.”

Like he’s deep in thought, he absently strokes my center while staring at my leg. “Birdie, are you sure?”

“Don’t I seem sure?”

When the silence lingers, I wriggle away from him, wishing I could take back my request. The hand on my thigh clamps down, stopping my escape. He draws circles on the spot where I pointed and presses a finger into my flesh, as if he’s imagining the bite.

“I won’t draw blood,” he warns. Biting my lip, I nod. “But it won’t be a little nibble either.”

My core clenches, and I try to squeeze my thighs together. Because he’s standing between them, he catches my physical reaction to his statement.