Page 104 of Inked in Bloom
“You heard her.” Ray turns to me and winks. “He’s a fan favorite.”
Derek nods behind me, where a bunch of harbingers whisper among themselves, glancing in Briar’s direction. They definitely appear eager for him to read.
I lay a hand on Briar’s forearm, thumbing over the inked thorns there. “Well then, we can’t disappoint your rabid fanbase, now can we, Sir Thumps-A-Lot?”
Derek muffles a laugh.
Ray lifts a brow at Briar. “Do I want to know?”
“No, you really don’t,” Briar says, then holds up a finger. “Just give us a moment.”
He grabs the tote of books and then his hand splays across the middle of my back, warmth spreads from the point of contact. Guiding me away from where they are finishing setup, he sets the books down and lowers his voice. Blooms watch us with rapt interest. “I feel like I didn’t give you a fair warning.”
Well, this is interesting.
“When I said live readings of various texts, it was my classy way of saying erotica.” The ball of his throat works. “And the volunteer participation is?—”
“Your classy way of saying live sex acts?”
He nods. “Exactly.As you’ve probably realized, Blooms tend to enjoy keeping things very adult in The Warren.”
It’s true. And now that I think back to the last time he mentioned open mic night… “When I saw you outside The Velveteen Rose, were you hiding out there so you wouldn’t have to do a reading?”
Pink kisses his sage skin, rising up his neck and spreading across his cheeks. “Not exactly… Corrigan was looking for someone, and I didn’t want to get called on to read.”
“Why?”
“Well, I was a bit distracted by my mate and her enthusiasm over someone else.”
“Tom?” I sigh, remembering how he’d suddenly disappeared and was so cagey the day after when I tried to flirt with him at the crêpe stand. “What did you do?”
“Nothing really.” Briar shrugs. “Tom is a great Bloom. We’ve known each other for decades… And I’m certain he would have given you an enjoyable night.”
My voice is a low rasp and my brows knit together. “How certain?”
“As certain as you can be about something like that.”
Oh. I swallow thickly. “So there wasn’t something wrong with him, you were just marking your territory?”
“You have never been and will never be my territory.” His rich tone rumbles from his throat. “You’re my mate. Even if you never claim the bond, your needs, your wants, your pleasure—they are mine to sate.”
Mate.
We’ve been dancing around that word and here it is, tossed between us like it’s his lifeline. His everything.
“And what about what I wanted?”
“If you wanted him so badly, why did I find you outsidethis very door?” His brow remains arched, waiting a beat for me to reply, but I have no retort. My cheeks heat in silent confession. “That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve cleared that up. Let’s get you home before things start.” He bends and picks up the tote bag, then waves to the owners.
He turns toward the exit, but I grab his wrist, halting him in place. “No.”
His body freezes, the bag swaying back and forth from his hand. “No?”
“I want to stay.”
Briar pivots to face me. He scrutinizes me beneath his spectacles. “You want tostay?”
“That’s what I said.” I keep my tone level, maintaining eye contact.
