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He does look tired, but—
Riot stands up and starts undressing, with brusque, jerky motions. He throws off his jacket, grabs his T-shirt and pulls it off. Seeing his naked chest always leaves me speechless, but tonight I’m distracted by worry and what starts to feel like annoyance. What is he playing at?
“Riot—”
“How do you want me tonight? On the sofa? Against the wall?” He undoes his zipper and pushes down his jeans, toes off his boots and pulls off his socks. “I brought the bondage rope if you want to tie me up again.”
What the hell.
“Stop it.” I stand up, too, rubbing my hands up and down my arms, a lump in my throat. “What’s wrong with you today? That’s not what I want and you know it.”
“Do I?” He sounds...bitter.
“If you don’t want to be here, then go.” I’m shaking and I can’t help it. There’s a burn at the back of my eyes. “I know I’m just a job for you, but I never thought I was such a chore.”
He stops in the process of pushing down his briefs. His hands are on the elastic, and he’s pushed them
down far enough I can see some of the dark curls of his groin. He’s soft, I realize with a start. Never seen him soft before. He was hard every time we were together.
“You’re not a chore.” He releases the elastic, pushes his hands through his hair instead and lets out a breath. “Never.”
“You don’t want this.” I nod at his crotch, and he huffs. “You could have said so. I didn’t realize…” I have to stop and swallow hard. “That you were having such a bad time with me. I mean, I know we had an awful start, because I was acting kind of crazy, but after that I thought…”
That he liked it. That he was glad to see me. That I turned him on.
“Pax…” he whispers and the pet-name breaks something inside me and the tears spill free. “Oh fuck, Pax. Come here.”
He opens his arms and I hesitate, but I walk into them because his eyes are warm again, and deep with sadness. He hugs me close, drops a kiss on top of my head. My head is resting on his chest and his heart thumps fast under my ear.
“Didn’t mean to make you cry,” he says, his voice a low rasp. “Tell me what you wanna do. I’d do anything for you, Pax.”
And it breaks my heart whenever he says that, because he sounds so sincere, so earnest I want to believe him.
“I wanted you to help me take the final step,” I say, safe in his arms, hiding my face against his warm skin. “Tonight.”
His hand that’s petting my back stills. “What do you...You mean sex?”
I wince a little, because yeah, that’s what I meant, and yet I’m scared. Better, sure, but still afraid of what might happen once I get down to it.
He pulls back, puts his hand under my chin, lifts it. “You sure about this?”
After the way he acted earlier, I’m not sure, no. I’m about to ask what really happened, why he was acting so cold, but I stop.
Because there’s that flare of happiness in his eyes that was missing all night. You can’t fake that, can you? That flash of joy that transforms your face.
So I nod. “Yeah. I want it to be with you.”
My trust is a little shaken, but he’s still Riot, still familiar. Still smoking hot.
A smile spreads on his face, and it does weird things to my insides. Heat spreads in my chest, and lower, between my legs.
“God, yeah.” He lifts his hands to my face, and I wait for the panic to hit, but nothing happens. He cups my cheeks. “Anything you like, babe. Dammit, Pax, you’re amazing.”
Looking into his clear eyes, so serious and bright, I know I’ve made the right decision.
Chapter Twelve
Riot
