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“Most beautiful woman in the world.”
I snorted and almost choked on my own spit, but it sounded like he meant it.
“If things don’t work out, you have my number.”
I debated jumping back into the bed, but I didn’t want to hide that I’d been listening. Hiding things was never a good way to start a relationship.
When he came back to the bedroom, he said, “What did I say, woman?”
I laughed. “Most beautiful woman in the world, huh?”
“Aye.”
“What have I told you about getting cute?”
“And what’ve I told you? I’m already cute.” He winked and snatched me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing.
I curled my arm around his neck. “I could get used to this.”
“I’ll carry you around all day if you want.”
“Yes, that’s what we’ll do. When Chubbalicious is a success, you’ll be my cabana boy/bodyguard.”
“If that’s what you want.”
Everything I felt with him was a double-edged sword. Initially, the idea of him being all mine all the time thrilled me. But then I wondered what he wanted out of life, what he was passionate about. He had to be passionate about something besides putting his dick in me. Not that the idea wasn’t great for my self-esteem, but he was a person, a whole entity who existed outside of our relationship matrix.
Jesus. Why did I have to pick everything apart? Why couldn’t I just be happy?
“What about you? What do you want?” I asked him.
“To spend the day in bed with you.”
He was being purposefully obtuse. “As lovely as that sounds, I do have to work today.”
“No, you don’t. Not unless you’re working me.”
“I still have a few things to get done before the launch.”
“I guess I’ll just have to persuade you.” He laughed. “I need you this morning. At least twice.”
“You’re kind of a high-maintenance boyfriend,” I teased, but allowed him to carry me to the bathroom.
“You have no idea, but we’ll compromise this morning.”
He wasn’t kidding.
After a leisurely shower and two bouts of sex, I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to be able to sit comfortably for a week. Everything hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt. The kind that with every step I took, every twinge of discomfort, I remembered what I’d done to put myself in that kind of state.
As I made us breakfast, I kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye, once again wondering how I’d gotten this lucky.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll have you flat on your back again in about five seconds.”
“Oh my god, how can you go again? I really might die.”
He laughed. “I’m addicted to you, what can I say?”
I blushed and plated our food.
For such a big guy, he moved quickly. His hands were on my hips and he nuzzled my neck. “How did I get so lucky?”
For the first time, I’d gotten something I wanted. I’d had to give up some things to have it, but it was mine. Kieran was all I needed.
I didn’t flinch when he ran his hands down over my belly, he’d seen me naked a lot and he still wanted to touch me, still wanted to be with me. Maybe this was real. Maybe all the stuff I’d been telling myself was true and it was the little voice inside my head that was the damn dirty liar.
“Since you’re working today, I thought I’d go in to work tonight to make up for last night.” He watched me like he thought I was a ticking bomb.
What was I going to say? I knew what he did for a living. So I smiled. “I’m glad you stayed with me yesterday. I don’t know that we’d be at this point—together—if you hadn’t. But I get it. You have to work. We both have to live in the real world, too.”
The tension leached out of him. “Thank Jaysus.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m glad the girlfriend hat didn’t turn you into some needy freak.”
“Did you think it would?” I guess that still remained to be seen. I don’t know why it was okay in my head for Brant to still work there when he was seeing me, but Kieran… It twisted me up.
That stupid voice was back—God, I was such a fucking psycho. But that voice said that it was because Kieran couldn’t be trusted. A man didn’t simply stop fucking a new woman every night. It takes thirty days to form a habit or break one and he’d been doing this for years.
“I think we should establish some boundaries if this is going to work. What’s okay, what’s not.”
I’d have rather just stuck my head in the sand, but he was right. This was my chance to tell him what I wanted, what would hurt me and what I didn’t care about. Then I couldn’t claim the injured party if we’d hashed it all out, and neither could he.
