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“No, I just know,” I say. She doesn’t know everything about me. My tastes in the bedroom are all about control.
“Uh-huh,” he laughs.
“Fuck off.”
***
I would like to say we decided on the perfect plan. Unfortunately, all we decided was what to eat for dinner. Ryker and Serenity ate with us and are now back at their place. Marie is cleaning up the mess, and I’m letting her. I changed into another pair of track pants, sat on the couch, and watched my mate. She’s humming—her expression peaceful.
Why is she so fucking calm? She is a puzzle, and I want to piece her together. She is walking past me and reaches out to touch my head. I grab her wrist before she makes contact.
“Don’t touch my hair,” I growl on reflex.
Instead of pulling her arm away, she looks at me and walks around the side of the couch. She crawls into my lap and straddles me. “Why?” she asks.
“I don’t like it,” I say, releasing her wrist.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” she says.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t want to tell me why?” she asks softly.
“I’m not ready for that.” I ignore the voice inside insisting I tell her.
“Okay,” she whispers. She lays her hands on my chest. “Do you want to know the real reason I hide my body?”
“Yes.” Her light touch is soothing.
“To be invisible,” she admits. She takes her hands away and they flutter on the collar of her shirt. “I was smaller than anyone else in school. I tried to make friends. I would talk and talk, trying to find a connection. They told me I talked too much. I had nothing in common with them, especially the girls. They were into girly things like makeup and clothes. I didn’t care about the labels, just that I had something clean to wear. I liked reading books and doing well in school.” She starts to unbutton her flannel. “I was teased. I stopped talking, and then I was teased for being too quiet. I just couldn’t win. I didn’t want any attention, so I covered my body in baggy clothes. Also, I was small. Thrift shops didn’t always have my size in the cute clothes. I wanted to be alone. The boys ignored me after that. I wasn’t worth the bother. The girls pulled away, except for a select few who still thought it was funny to bully me, this time about my baggy clothes. It was better, so I kept doing it. After school, it was easier to keep it up. Adults can be just as cruel with their words. I built an armor around myself. I started covering my skin with art. It was beautiful and meant something to me. People could still say nasty things, but I was the only one that knew what was underneath my clothes. It helped me deflect because I had a secret that no one knew.” She pulls apart the edges of her shirt and pulls it off. “I choose who gets to see my secrets. I choose you.”
She’s stunning. Her art is beautiful. I slowly lift my hand to run my fingers down her arm full of colorful flowers. Her skin pebbles. It took a lot for her to show me. I heard the pain behind her words. My mate has been desperate for someone to see the real her, even though she claims to want to hide. She hasn’t trusted someone enough to be herself. I’m humbled that she trusts me.
“You’re beautiful,” I say reverently.
She takes off her tank to reveal more. “You never liked your hair. I never liked my breasts.”
“Why?” I ask, my eyes devouring her.
“They’re small.”
I outline them with my fingertip. “They’re perfect.” I trail my finger over her tattoo, showcasing them. “Your art enhances the beauty of you.” I slide underneath her bra strap, following it to her shoulder, and pull it down. I repeat the process on the other, reach around her to unsnap her bra, and slowly pull it off. I caress them with my eyes and then my hands, barely grazing her nipples, causing them to harden. “I’m so lucky to be your mate.” I trace the jeweled tattoos between them, moving closer to her breasts with every circle.
“Thank you,” she says, gasping as I pinch her nipples.
“They were the ones missing out. You are so much better than them all,” I say. I tilt my head to lick her nipple and blow on it. “I am honored to be chosen.” Her waist looks so small in my hands as I pull her closer. “Close your eyes,” I demand. She looks at me for a moment and then does as I said.
I blur to my room and lay her in the middle of my bed. She is waiting for my permission to open her eyes. She’s perfect for me.
“Bash?”
“Keep them closed.” I run my finger across her waist, following the edge of her jeans, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “If you don’t want this, stop me.”
“Keep going,” she says.
“Tell me your safe word.”
“Gardenias.”
