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But I need something. I need something to assure me that this can be more, that she’s willing to take this to the next level with me.
“Claire…” I brush a soft, closed-mouth kiss to her plump, wet pout. “You’re going Friday night, right?”
Her brows pinch together and then relax. “To the Sick Kids fundraiser?”
I nod. There’s a huge fundraiser for the children’s hospital in two nights that Wyatt and I always attend. We donate a percentage of our earnings from the year before. This year, we’re collectively donating three-point-two million.
“I’m going,” she confirms, pushing my waves off my forehead. “Charlee and Dex and I, and a few other people from the brewery.”
“Would you go with me?” I force the words out of my mouth before I can overthink them.
“With you?”
“With me,” I nod. “As my date.”
Her jaw hangs. “You…you want me to be your date?”
“Yeah.” I pull my bottom lip into my mouth but resist the urge to chew on it. “I do.”
“Like…”
“Like I pick you up at your door, we ride there together, dance together, spend the night together in public. I get to show you off on my arm. Like a date,” I add with an amused arch of one brow, and maybe the hint of a smirk. I’m the one that’s new at dating, yet she’s the one who seems totally lost right now. I kiss the lines off her confused forehead and finish with the sweep of my lips across hers. “Say yes.”
Her fingers find her lower lip, rolling and pinching. I pull her hand away.
“Okay,” she whispers, finally meeting my gaze.
My grin is so big it’s actually painful. “Okay?”
She nods, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Yeah, okay.”
I drop my smile to hers. “Thought I was gonna have to beg on my knees all night.”
“You can spend the rest of the night doing so if you’d like.” Her teeth press into her lower lip with her mischievous grin. “You know, for good measure.”
My chest vibrates with a low purr. I trail my nose down the length of hers, my hand covering her hip. “For good measure? In case you change your mind?”
She lifts a lazy shoulder. “Eh, you never know. You really grind my gears.”
“Oh, I’ll fucking grind your gears.”
“As long as you’re on your knees when you do it.”
With a snarl, I devour her hot, filthy mouth, and then spend the rest of the night doing as asked: begging for her, on my knees. Well, the next hour-and-a-half, because we’re both pooched from last night still, and after four orgasms, Claire can barely keep her eyes open.
It’s just after eleven when I get back from taking Sully out for one last bathroom break and climb back into bed.
“Can you plug my phone in over there?” I hand it to Claire and watch her plug it in on the bedside table.
“Am I on your side?” she asks, fingers gripping the sheets. “Do you want me to move?”
“Nah, it’s cool. I want you to stay right there.” I scoop her up in my arms and curl my body around hers, hoping to God she doesn’t try to make out like a bandit in the middle of the night again.
Reading my mind, she whispers, “Maybe I should go home.”
I snuggle her harder. “Nope.”
But my grip loosens as I start to fall, unconsciousness claiming me. I don’t know how long it’s been or what time it is when I feel Claire shift, the mattress dipping, and I realize my arms are empty.
