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He turned to look at her, and that’s when she realized he’d parked his truck in front of a nice-looking hotel. A far nicer hotel than she could ever afford.
Uh-oh.
“I’m talking about the fact I’ve been driving for a long time. What did you think I was talking about?”
“Um. Nothing.”
The hotel had three stories with long balconies running along the length of each level.
“Are you ready to go inside?” he asked gently. “We can wait if you need a minute.”
What? Why would he think that she needed a minute?
That’s when she noticed that not only was her hand wrapped around his wrist, but that she was holding on tight. In fact . . . she might even be pressing her nails into his skin.
Oops.
Shit.
She loosened her grip and then took hold of his hand so she could look at his wrist. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.” She ran her finger carefully over the red marks she’d left. “So sorry. Shit.”
“Hey. Hey. Listen, it’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t. It isn’t fine. I hurt you.”
“Greer.” Moving slowly, he cupped her chin and tilted her face back until she had no choice but to look up at him. “You didn’t hurt me. And even if you did, I wouldn’t care.”
“It’s wrong to hurt someone.”
“Normally, I would agree. But you didn’t hurt me.”
She sniffled. She still felt terrible. She didn’t like the idea that she might have harmed him.
“I want to be a good girl,” she whispered.
“Oh, Greer, you are a good girl. I promise.”
Shit. What was she doing? With her defenses down, she was practically broadcasting that she was a Little to him.
Deep breaths.
“Sorry.”
He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, which sent a shiver through her. She longed to lean into his touch, to rub up against him like a contented kitten.
Shit.
What she wouldn’t give to be able to let everything go for a while. To just give someone else all her worries.
No one will want to do that for you. To take over. You’re too much of a burden.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Aidan would do it. But then she’d get mad at him for trying to take over and probably kick him in the balls.
Right . . . she was starting to worry about her violent thoughts.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Kicking Aidan in the balls,” she answered truthfully.
