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“I would never dream of it, Master.” It still felt strange to use the title for someone after so long, but with Grant it felt right, just new. Her Master. Her cheeks warmed at the thought, and she hooked a stray lock of his pretty red hair behind his ear.
Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her toward him and slid her down his body onto her feet. The bulge of his dick felt like it had dug a furrow up her belly.
He snapped his fingers and pointed at his feet, and despite her reluctance to feel the flagstones against her knees, she sank down. The floor didn’t hurt her knees anywhere near as badly as she’d thought it would. She glanced down and saw he’d placed her in the middle of the tiled sun mosaic that graced the middle of the foyer.
From her knees, her gaze slid up the formidable height of him until she could see his face. She was happy he wasn’t the type of Dominant who always wanted her gaze averted. Part of her pleasure in submission was the unspoken conversations that passed between a Dominant and submissive, and it was so much easier and deeper when she could read his expressions. It was hard to do that while staring at the floor.
Grant’s gaze held hers, his expression full of love. It stole her breath. Gently, he ran a reverent hand through her hair, watching her as though he still couldn’t believe this thing between them was real.
“I don’t know how or why I overlooked you for so long.” He laughed softly at himself. “I think you were just too perfect for me. We clicked too well. I didn’t trust it.”
“That’s how I felt about you. I was worried about fucking things up. I still am.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—why did I friend-zone you in the first place?”
“You didn’t see me because I wasn’t what you were looking for. You’ve always had a thing for tall, leggy blondes. Preferably with big tits. I don’t exactly fit the criteria,” she replied wryly.
“You know, I don’t think I ever did have a thing for tall leggy blondes. I think I assumed that was what I was supposed to want. I’d never really questioned it.” He traced the curve of her cheek, then shook himself as though looking at her had dazed him a little. “I have a feeling you’re going to make me soft and sentimental in my old age.”
She gave the bulge in his jeans a pointed look. “Apparently you haven’t reached your old age yet, because your dick isn’t looking very soft.”
He rolled his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “You just had to go and ruin my moment, didn’t you?”
“What moment?”
“I love you,” he said, his voice echoing with certainty in the empty foyer.
Her heart skipped and skittered, the same as it had when he’d said it to her outside. His expression, so intense and sincere, made this all the more real. They were actually doing this. She’d tried so hard to convince herself she’d just wanted a friends-with-benefits situation with Grant . . . all because she’d been too chickenshit to let herself be vulnerable again. Meanwhile, their little feud had hurt her deep down in ways even losing Nigel hadn’t. The potential for Grant to hurt her worse was a terrifyingly reality, but it was high time she put on her big girl panties and gave them the chance to be happy together.
“I love you too,” she said, her throat hurting like she’d swallowed a swarm of angry bees. A well of emotion strangled the words. Did he even know how much courage it had taken for her to admit her feelings for him?. This was Grant—her Grant. He wouldn’t trample her feelings.
His green eyes shone. Maybe he thought it was their time on the island making her sentimental, but her words were true, and they had been for a while. So strange, saying “I love you” after so many years without the customary, manly punch on the shoulder that used to go with it. She hadn’t had anyone to sincerely say it to for what seemed like forever.
Grinning, he swung her up into his arms, then strode through the lodge, carrying her like a fragile cherished thing. He mounted the stairs, holding her close, as though afraid to jostle her.
When they reached the master bath, he stripped, then got into the tub, pulling her on top of him before he even turned the water on. Warm water rose around them as the tub filled, tickling, leaching the lingering chill from her body.
He cuddled her and cared for her as though she were a treasure, putting her into a strange, subspace-like trance. After a long while she came back to herself, although her head still felt as if it was stuffed with cotton.
“I can’t believe I fell in love with such an evil man,” she teased. “You’d better not make me regret this.”
“Haven’t you heard? Good guys never get the girl. Not when the girl is kinky.”
“I’m betting the good guys are a complete snore in bed.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, you might be a snore in a bed. I have no way of knowing.”
He smiled down at her, dazzling her with his masculine beauty. “Sex indoors really doesn’t seem to be our forte.”
“Sex with you is like being hit by a freight train.”
“Well, this freight train has transcendent experiences with you, even if you don’t enjoy them.” He smirked at her, obviously knowing better, but she’d be damned if she’d succumb to his blatant request for ego stroking. The man was cocky enough as it was.
“Well then, I guess I can forgive you.”
“And am I back on the Christmas card list?”
“Maybe not the naked Christmas card list yet, but at least I haven’t scratched you off altogether.”
“What do I need to do to get back on the good list?”
