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“I want your fire. I want your courage; I want your loyalty. I want your anger, your disdain, your disappointment.” I brush a lock of hair off his forehead. “I want you smiles; I want your laughter. I want you fighting for my team. And yes, I want your pussy. Every day.” He squeezes my hips, and I want to give him everything he’s just asked me for.
But …
“I can’t.” I shake my head, caught between my fear and my love and feeling like neither one of them are serving me well right now.
“You won’t,” he chides me gently, but with real reproach in his voice. “But I understand.” He cuts off my protest. “You want to protect yourself. But you can’t. Not from me. Not from us. It’s all or nothing. And as long as we’re alive, it will never be nothing.”
“Hayes, don’t …” I pull back slightly and shake my head. I don’t know what to say.
“I k
now,” he says with real regret in his eyes. “I fucked up. But, I am not that asshole who treated you like you were nothing. I’m not ashamed of anything except that something I did made you feel like you were less than the miraculous person I know I’ll never deserve,” he says.
My hand comes to my chest and my fingers clutch the front of my blouse. “Oh, Hayes,” is all I can manage.
“But, I need you to understand—” His eyes go from pleading to demanding in a blink.
“That you thought I was hiding something?” I interject.
“No,” he says sharply. “That I’m responsible for my entire family. Not just the ones that are alive right now. But the ones who will be alive in a hundred years. I just had to keep the estate intact because I lost sight of that once and married someone who I barely knew.”
“Well, I’m not her,” I remind him.
“I know that … and I knew it in Italy, too. By the time the report came, I didn’t care what it said.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“I already knew everything that I needed to about you. You’re the woman who leans in when most people lean away,” he says. I want so badly to throw my arms around his neck and tell him it’s okay. That I see him, and that I’ll always lean in.
“I’m going to show you why us. How us. I’m asking for a lot. Your future. Your love. Your loyalty. Your body. Your children. Your life,” he says. “But I’m offering you the same things in return.”
Tears sting my eyes and I search his. All I see reflects my own feelings.
“I want you to be my partner. I’m not taking no for an answer, not when I know you feel the same way,” he says.
He reaches up and swipes a tear off my cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“I miss you,” I admit.
His eyes flare. “It’s about fucking time.” Fierce need replaces the tenderness, and he surges to his feet. Without pausing, he steps between my legs and pushes my knees open.
“And I’m going to let you go home without fucking you. Even though I know you want me to.” He chucks me under the chin.
“But let me tell you, when we’re right and we’re back, I’m going to wreck your pussy. I’m not good with words, baby, but when I fuck you, I feel like you always know what I’m saying.” He grinds into me.
“But let me speak your language for a minute, so that when I tell you that I love you, you don’t just hear it. You understand it. And you don’t question it,” he says.
“I know you love me. I do …”
“Then let me show you just how much.” He takes my hand in his and puts it to his lips. “Let me show you what you’ve shown me,” he says softly.
“What’s that?”
“What it’s like to be part of a team that you can trust. That won’t let you down,” he says.
“Give me a chance. Please.” He comes as close to begging as I’d ever like to hear him again.
“Okay,” I acquiesce. “But you better not fuck it up.”
