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“When we were younger,” she says, gnawing her bottom lip between her teeth. “You were just a boy back then, but now...”
“Now?” I tilt my head.
“You're a man.”
“Glad you noticed.”
My chest expands with masculine pride, muscles flexing of their own accord. She notices, a smirk pulling at her lips and my god, do I want to kiss them.
“You gonna tell me what it is you wanted?” I ask.
Her self-consciousness returns in an instant. “I don't think I want to be alone tonight,” she admits.
“Okay?”
“Would you, maybe, lie with me a while? Only until I fall asleep, if you'd rather not stay the whole night.”
“Yes.”
I don't even need to think about it. Do I want to spend the night holding Thea in my arms, where I know that she's safe and protected? Yes, I fucking do. God, after everything she's told me tonight, I'd spent the rest of my life lying beside her if it meant I knew no one could ever hurt her again.
“Really?” Her eyes brighten, a thick blush burning her chalky skin.
I nod. “Really.”
She stares at me for a few moments, cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling. It takes everything in me not to kiss her right now, strip her out of those clothes and make love to her in the bed where I've only ever fucked other women. I want her naked body to be the last to have touched my sheets.
But the last thing she needs right now is me taking advantage of her vulnerability. She only wants me in bed beside her to shelter her from the nightmares that would inevitably plague her if she was alone. She needs my arms wrapped around her to protect her from the memories. She doesn't need my mouth on her pussy or my cock stretching her apart.
She doesn't, but I fucking do.
“Go get ready for bed. I'll finish up out here.”
There's not much that needs doing, but it's an excuse to put some space between us for a moment. I have to give myself a pep talk or something to calm myself down before I join her in bed with the hardest dick I've ever had in my life. It's fifteen minutes later before I accept that there's nothing I can do about it. So, I tuck it into the waistband of my sweatpants and pray to God that Thea doesn't notice.
She's sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed when I step into the bedroom and lean against the doorframe.
She's wearing one of my t-shirts.
It's long on her—so long, in fact, that it falls to her mid-thigh like a little black dress. And the sight of her in it is so goddamn priceless that it's worth more than any garment Chanel could ever design.
“That's mine,” I say lamely, mainly because I'm incapable of saying much else.
“Yeah.” She looks down at the top and bites her lip. “Do you mind? I can change if you do.”
“No need.” I push off the doorframe and stand at the foot of the bed. “I don't mind one bit.” I reach behind me to grab the top of my shirt and pull it over my head. “You okay if I sleep like this?”
I'm not much of a gym-goer, but I'm damn proud of the body I've built through hard labor and my morning runs around the neighborhood. Thea is staring so hypnotically at my abs that I wouldn't be half surprised if her tongue lulled out of her mouth like a panting spaniel.
“You're staring.”
“What?” Thea blinks, shaking herself free of the trance and snapping her gaze back to mine. “No, I'm not.”
“Yeah, you were.” I smirk and splay a hand across the hard ridges on my stomach. “But it's cool. It's hard not to. I get it.”
She laughs and tosses a pillow at me. “God, you're such an asshole.”
“You tell me all the time.”
