Page 96 of Badd Love
He gave me a look of incredulity. "What do you do for me? You love me. What does that look like? Whatever you want it to. Hugs and kisses. Make love to me. Let me be the little spoon sometimes. Do things for me. Like what? It doesn't matter. Domestic shit. Affection. Gifts. Tell me I'm handsome and buff and smart—I'm sure you can find the right lies." He grinned and snickered, making that last part an obvious joke. “It doesn't matter. I don't need you todoanything but be who you are and let me love you. If you let me love you, you'll find ways to loveme back." He cupped my face. "That doesn't mean sex or being barefoot in the kitchen making me a sandwich, by the way."
I cackled. "Good, because a domestic goddess I am not."
He brushed a thumb over my lips. “We're getting ahead of ourselves, baby. We just gotta learn how our relationship is gonna look. We do that together, and we do it by being honest with each other about what we like and don't like, need and don't need, want and don't want."
I bit my lower lip, bunching his shirtfront in my fist. "Right now, I need to be alone with you." I dropped my voice to a whisper and lowered my eyes from his to his mouth. "I've been jonesing for your kisses since I sent you that postcard from Portland."
His sweet smile shifted to a hot grin. "Is that so?" He wrapped a big, hard fist around my hand clutching his shirt. He lifted the hand, kissed each knuckle in turn, one by one, without taking his eyes off mine. "Like that?"
I let out a growl which, embarrassingly, sounded like nothing so much as a tiny kitten trying to be fierce. "Unless you want to get arrested for public indecency, Dane Badd, you'll take me upstairs and kiss me properly."
His hand curled around the back of my neck, which sent shivers down my spine. "To be clear, you're asking me to take you upstairs so I cantake you…upstairs?"
"Yes," I breathed. "That's exactly what I'm asking."
"As you wish."
CHAPTER 14
Dane
Ipreceded Lindsey up the stairs. I felt her behind me, felt her gaze, her attention, her tumultuous emotions.
I was feeling a pretty wild variety of shit myself—sorrow for all that she'd been through, fury and rage and hate for everyone in her life who had victimized her, whether through simple neglect or active, outright violation; I felt an upwelling of love that made me so intensely protective that if the Cohen motherfucker wasn't dead already I'd be tempted to go take care of him myself. I felt a deep, driving desire to make sure she never felt pain ever again. I knew I couldn't protect her from the vagaries of life, but I could sure as hell try.
"I can feel you brooding up there," Lindsey said, a few steps below me. "Stop it."
"I'm not brooding," I muttered as we entered the apartment over the bar.
I carried her stuff into the spare room, set it down, and moved to reach for Lindsey. She was already in my space, tugging at my tie.
"You were hating. It was palpable," she said.
"You had no one to protect you. Everyone in your life failed you. It makes me angry." I toyed with the strings of her oversized Eeyore hoodie.
She looked up at me with wet, wide eyes. "You don't know how it makes me feel, Dane, hearing you say that. But I refuse to waste any more of my life, my time, or my energy on hate, especially now that he's dead. And I won't have you hating him either. He's not worth it." She unknotted my tie, tugged it free, and let it flutter to the floor at my feet. "Instead of being angry and hating, spend that energy on me. Please?"I sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I can do that. I just needed to be angry for a minute. You've had your whole life to come to terms with what happened, Linz, I just found out an hour ago."She gave a head-tilted nod. "I suppose that makes sense. I just…I want to put it all behind me. I want to be all in on you—on us."
I dipped to kiss her—a soft, dry kiss, a quick touch of the lips. "That sounds pretty nice to me."
“You know what sounds nice to me?" she whispered, pushing my jacket off my shoulders and letting it, too, hit the floor at my feet. "You, naked."
"Just me naked? Or us naked together?"
She bit her lip, smirking. "Let's start with just you. I'll let you get me naked after I've had my fun."
I smoothed my hands over her hips as she unbuttoned my shirt. "Just don't do anything that will trigger you. Don't ask, don't try, don't even think about it." I palmed her ass, feeling my zipper tighten just from the soft weight of her glorious ass in my hands. "You are all I need."
“You have me." She had my shirt undone, and it hit the floor too; my white tank top was next, leaving me in slacks, shoes, and socks. "You have all of me, Dane. I promise. I won't run again. I won't push you away again."
"No freakouts from pushing yourself into sex stuff that's gonna set you off."
"I promise." She swallowed hard. "Won't you miss blow jobs?"
I shrugged, shook my head. "Not really." I gazed down at her, tugging at her lower lip with my thumb. "Just a hypothetical situation, okay? Let's say you had no issues with giving oral, and let's say you were feeling generous, you wanted to do something that makes me feel good. If you were to tell me I could pick a blow job or sex with you, there wouldn't be a decision to make. I'd always, always pick connecting with you, being intimate with you, whatever you want to say. A blow job feels great, yes. We've talked about that. If you could do that without it causing you any problems, I'd be all for you giving me that once in a while, or as often or seldom as you wanted. But if you can't ever do that again, I won't be trudging through life all heartbroken or whatever because you can't nom my knob."
She snickered. "Nom your knob? That's a new one." She sighed, tugging at my belt. “I want to, though. I want to be able to. For myself, not just for you. I want my life back. I want my sexuality to be my own, not held hostage."
She opened my slacks, and they slid down my legs, pooling on the floor at my feet. My cock pulsed in my underwear, thickening, unfurling, tenting the front of my black boxer briefs.
