“Why?”
“Because it makes my desire your responsibility.”
“No. It makes you honest.”
He looked uncertain.
I touched his wrist.
“You are allowed to want me.”
Reid’s gaze darkened.
“You should be careful saying that.”
Heat pulsed low in my abdomen.
“Why?”
“Because I want you very much.”
The quiet intensity of the confession tightened every inch of my skin.
I looked at his mouth.
Then at the hand resting near my knee.
“If I asked you to touch me, would you?”
“Yes.”
“Anywhere?”
His jaw flexed.
“Anywhere you asked, provided it did not harm you.”
“That answer is painfully clinical.”
“It is how I remain in control.”
“Did you always need control?”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“Especially with you.”
“Why?”
“Because you enjoyed testing it.”
A smile came before I could stop it.
“That sounds promising.”
“It was exhausting.”
