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Frown lines across his brow. “I don’t get the rule.”
“I pay my way. I make my way. You get to stand beside me, prop me up, but you don’t get to clear the path, or make the road.”
“That’s going to be hard on me.” He walked them to the sofa and sat on the edge, she stayed wrapped around him. He gathered her hair in his hands and brought their foreheads together. “I hate you stressing about money.”
And it would be so easy, too easy to love Reid for the sheer economic sense of it. He would keep her financially secure without a qualm. She sat up straight. This was important.
“I can’t do this with you unless you accept we’re in different places. I was nowhere for too long. It’s taken me years to work out who I am, and I’m still not sure what I want. I can’t have being with you decide that for me.”
“But it’s—”
She put her hand over his mouth. “You don’t want that either. You want me to love you for being you, not for what’s in your bank account.”
He peeled her hand away, ticked off. “I get to buy you things you need.”
“You get to buy me the occasional present, like any good boyfriend.”
He breathed a stream of exasperation out. “An expensive dinner and lingerie for Lux.”
“I knew you were trouble.” She could virtually see schemes forming in his brain. “I never doubted you respected me. Not once, despite the fact I dance in underwear for men to throw money. That was unexpected. But I need you to respect this decision, or you’re—”
“Just a rich guy who gets to call the shots.”
She put her hands to his face and nodded.
“Tomorrow we shop.”
She laughed. “I love you. Tonight you get to tie me up.”
“Hold on.” He stood, staggering slightly till he got his balance. “And after I’ve tied you up?”
“Make me wish you hadn’t.”
He put her in a sex coma. Too many orgasms to count, she lay replete in Reid’s arms feeling his heart thrash around in his ribs. The way he loved her was almost too good. He’d learned to use his body more to please her than himself. She only had to think about what happened in front of the window and she lit up, even now when all of her nerve endings were out cold.
“What’s your fantasy?”
He stroked a hand down her hair. “Got it right here.”
“You don’t have to be a suck-up. I’m yours. There has to be something you want that we haven’t done.”
“Flygirl, you looking me in the eyes and telling me you love me, that’s all the fantasy come true I need.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m wounded, but I’ll deal.” She double checked his expression—cocky grin. “Gives me something to work at.”
“What?” Challenging tone.
“Proving it to you. What about you? The window?”
“Was amazing.” Her face got hot, which was ridiculous given what she did for a living, given what they’d done together. Not ten minutes ago he had her so revved up, they almost tipped out of the bed. “I didn’t expect it to be so,” she groaned, “naughty.”
He laughed softly and she kissed her thanks into his chest, up his throat and over his lips. She would never have had that experience without him. Hadn’t known she wanted it.
In the morning they went lingerie shopping. And that too was an experience she’d never had before. Reid was no Cara. Cara would’ve loved the shop Zarley chose. It offered everything from baby doll to boudoir. There was a naughty librarian costume she considered for a few moments, but for Madame Amour she needed to be more sophisticated.
Reid had to warm up to the merchandise. At least this time he looked at the garments, telling her what he liked—way too tame; showing her what he was afraid to like with a nervous quirk of a smile. He blushed over pasties with tassels and cupless bras, black lace cage wear an
