Page 74 of Trade It All

Maddie’s hands are everywhere—fisted in my shirt, dragging over my shoulders, pulling me closer until there isn’t a microscopic gap left between us. She lets out a soft, needy sound andsinks to the floor, her eyes never leaving mine as she kneels on the carpet.

"Dean," she breathes, her fingers reaching for the button of my jeans.

I stand over her, my shadow eclipsing the light from the hallway. I reach down, my fingers tangling in her hair to guide her, my voice dropping into that low, authoritative register that I know makes her pulse jump.

"Slow," I rasp. "I want you to take your time. I spent all night watching people look at you, Maddie. Now I'm the only one who gets to."

I stay focused on her, my eyes locked on hers as she moves. Every hitch in her breath, every flicker of her eyelashes—I’m cataloging all of it. She’s perfect, looking up at me with so much heat it nearly stops my heart. But I’m not ready for this to end here. Not after the way I’ve been starving for her all night.

I reach down, hooking my hands under her arms and hauling her back to her feet in one powerful motion. I don’t give her time to find her balance before I back her into the wall. The thud of her shoulders against the drywall punctuates the silence of the room. I’m on her in a second, my mouth devouring hers while my hands roam her body like I’m trying to reclaim every inch of her.

I trail my lips away from her mouth, nipping at her jaw before burying my face behind her ear, breathing in the scent of herskin. My right hand slides up, my palm flat against the front of her neck, my fingers and thumb curling gently around the column of her throat to steady her against the wall. It’s a firm, grounding pressure—the kind that tells her I’ve got her, that I’m the anchor.

"I’ve got you, Baby," I whisper against her skin, my thumb resting right over the frantic, erratic jump of her pulse. "You’re right where you’re supposed to be. You're—"

"Red Hots."

The word hits me like a bucket of ice water. I don't pause. I don't hesitate. I don't ask why. My hand drops from her throat instantly. I recoil a full step, putting immediate space between us to give her air, to give her room, to give her back the control I was just holding for her. My heart is still red-lining, my blood is screaming for her, but my only priority is the woman staring back at me.

"I'm here," I say, my voice rough but steady, my eyes searching hers for the break. "I've stopped, Maddie. I'm right here. Talk to me.”

The second I step back, I see it. The shift. It’s small—anyone else might miss it—but I don’t. Not with her. Not now. Not after learning every little way she reacts when something feels too big, too fast, too much. Her eyes gloss. Her breathing stutters.

“Maddie?”

Her lips part, but nothing comes out right away. Her chest rises too quickly, her hands hovering like she doesn’t know what to do with them anymore.

“I—” Her voice breaks. “I ruined it.”

My entire chest tightens.

“What?” I step forward without thinking, stopping myself just short of touching her again. “No. No, you didn’t—”

“I messed it up,” she rushes, tears slipping free now, her hands coming up to her face like she can hide it. “I said the word, I—God, Dean, I’m sorry. I ruined it.”

Something in me snaps at that. Not at her. At the thought that she could ever believe that. I can’t not touch her anymore.

“Can I?” I ask, my voice softer now, controlled, even though everything in me is pulling toward her.

Her head lifts slightly, eyes glassy, and she nods.

“I need your words, Baby,” I keep my voice calm. “I need to hear you.”

Her breath hitches, shaky, but she doesn’t pull back.

“Yes,” she whispers.

I step in carefully this time, slower, giving her space to pull away if she needs it—but she doesn’t. My hands come up, cupping her face gently, thumbs brushing under her eyes as I wipe away the tears that shouldn’t be there. I let my thumbs move again, catching the next tear before it falls.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” I tell her, steady and certain, making sure she feels every word. “Not a single damn thing.” Her brows pinch slightly, like she doesn’t believe me yet. “You did exactly what you were supposed to do,” I continue, softer now, my thumbs still brushing her cheeks, slower this time. “You trusted me. You used your word. That’s not messing up.”

Her breathing starts to settle just a little. I lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her eye, then the other, catching the last of her tears as I go.

“You’re perfect,” I murmur against her skin. “You hear me?” Another kiss. “I love you.” And then I pull her into me, wrapping her up tight, one hand cradling the back of her head as she presses into my chest, fitting there like she always does.

“I’ve got you,” I say quietly, my chin resting against her hair. “Always.”

We stay like that for a second. Just breathing. Just… being. Then I shift slightly, my hand smoothing down her back.