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She seems smaller than usual and she’s shivering in her thick fur and she murmurs something about being tired. Turning toward me she asks,
“Are you going to tuck me in?”
“Be right up,” I tell her, figuring I should give her some time to undress and she nods. It makes me frown because suddenly she seems so compliant. Too compliant. It should make me suspicious but I don’t want to be. Fuck, I’m such a pansy with her.
Other people know me as growly and rough but I’ve never been that way with her. I was always too soft with her. Always treated her with velvet gloves because in my childish boy mind, I thought that it would make her want to stay.
I thought that I could be enough for her.
Shaking my head, I make my way up to her bedroom and she’s already propped up against the pillows. A small smile crosses her face when she sees me and it takes me by surprise but I don’t make a big deal out of it.
“Will you stay here until I drift off?” she asks.
I nod and sit down on the bed and she doesn’t scoot over, but she stays close and I can feel the warmth of her body seep through my clothes.
“Will you cuff me in my sleep?”
“Would you prefer it if I cuff you now?”
“No,” she bites her lip, “I suppose I don’t.” Inhaling, she stretches her neck a little to be able to look better into my eyes. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
“What’s that?”
Her eyes dart. “That you could just tell me what your name is straight up. We don’t have to play any games.”
“This isn’t a game,” I tell her. “This is serious. And I don’t want to make it easier for you. I want you to remember.”
“But what if I never remember?”
“Then I’ll never let you go.”
My words cause her face to flush and she looks away. “I don’t think you mean that. You’re a good person. Deep down.”
“I’m notthatgood. But I’m good to you. Don’t I treat you well?”
She nods.
“And I don’t make you unhappy, do I?”
Her lids lower. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel around you.”
“Shame because I know exactly how I feel around you.”
“How?” she whispers.
“Reborn. Like I’ve been brought back to a better life,” I rasp and stroke her over her soft head.
Daphne looks at me in surprise. “Aren’t you mad that I tried to escape?”
“Disappointed,” I reply because there’s no point in lying, “I’m trying to give you everything you want.”
Her lips purse. “Am I supposed to thank you?”
“You’re supposed to ask me to kiss you.”
She inhales, her gaze dashing everywhere to avoid landing on me before she looks at me again. “Then kiss me,” she breathes, clasping her hands over her chest and she squeezes her eyes.
My brows rise in annoyance. This isn’t what I’m after. I want her to be like she was in the garden, want her to be buzzing with need, not lay there stiff and passive. But beggars can’t be choosers and I take what I can get.
