Page 85 of Reins

“Why then?” I frown as a knot forms in my chest. I can feel his hard crotch digging into my hip, doesn’t that mean he’s ready?

“Ros.” His thumb frames my cheek. “The last thing I want to do is scare you. Baby steps.”

I fight the surge of self-loathing threatening to spill. “Don’t you want me?”

“More than anything,” he growls. “But I’m also not going to ruin tomorrow because I’m rushing through today.”

“What does that even mean?” My chin trembles from the rejection.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Would you feel comfortable to get naked in front of me right now?” He tilts his head, pursing his lips. “Be honest with me.”

“Um. I would?” Who am I kidding? The idea absolutely terrifies me. My gaze drops to his chest. “No,” I admit weakly.

“Hey.” His palm grips my hip with a light squeeze. “It’s okay.” His knuckle tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. “I know it won’t happen overnight. Hell, it could take a year or ten, and I’ll still be here, loving you.”

I don’t deserve him.

My ribs feel like they’re locked in a vise and I crumple against his chest.

His hand flattens over my head, stroking my hair down my back in long pulls. “Maybe you could help me figure out the decorating in here? We could still go to that flea market tomorrow before I have to show my mug at the office again?”

I know he’s trying to change the subject.

Still clinging to the tiny pieces of smooth glass, my fingers open to stare at them. “Can we do a beach theme?”

He chuckles, shaking us both. “I think a big ol’ ship wheel on that wall would look mighty fine.” Tipping his beer, his Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow. “You know, I had to wear an eye patch for a few months after the accident.” He gestures with the bottle towards his scarred cheek. “Everything was so fucked up I had to have a couple of surgeries to fix it.” Then he smiles, tugging up the unmarked side of his face. “But I’m sure I made a hot pirate for a while. Everyone would look at me when I walked through. Then again—” His mouth droops as he tilts his head. “—most of them had the same expression that the waitress in Helena did.”

I remember that. I expect the same if anyone saw the marks I hide under all these clothes.

As if he can hear my thoughts, his hand settles on my hip again, but his thumb slips under the hem of my shirt to rub a slow circle on the small of my back.

I can’t keep myself from stiffening when I realize he’s touching my skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” His movement pauses with his gentle question.

“No,” I exhale. I desperately want to get used to him. The warm heat of the contact moves into me, relaxing the tension until I sigh and melt against him. “I like it.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Good. That’s the idea. Tiny steps. You’ll always have a choice, Ros. I want you to know that.”

It’s hard to wrap my mind around.

I’ve never had one before. Everything was dictated to me.

Now the options are endless.

I should learn how to drive. I need to get a job. Maybe get a degree? I can clean the house for him until I can earn my keep. Cooking counts too? Shit, Petunia. Her hay costs a lot. And her vet bills. How will I afford them? What if I—

“Ros?” he rumbles. “Your breathing shifted like you’re running a marathon. Talk me through it.”

He’s so aware.

“I just—” I don’t know where to start. “—there’s so many things I have to do.”

“Hmm. Tell me.” His voice drops into that tone again, compelling me to answer.

I shift on his lap to play with the glass baubles so I don’t have to look at him. “I have to get a job. Petunia eats a lot, um, so do I.”

His snort nearly interrupts my train of thought. “Continue.”