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The serious way he had said it had me scooting back and sitting up. “About?”
“Something important.”
These past few months, we had grown closer. He’d faced his grandparents with their lie about Hayes’s death. His grandmother cried so pitifully that I truly felt sorry for her. It had been clear she was haunted by her grandson’s suicide. There would be no family get-togethers for Huck and his grandparents though. I wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive them. Even after his grandmother had admitted to being the one who had mailed him the letter.
There were times I would let my old fears in and worry that he would tire of me or realize he wasn’t in love with me. But somehow, he always knew when I was struggling with my insecurities and did all he could to reassure me. Which only made me love him more.
The Huck who had run hot and cold only ran hot now. When I wanted to touch him, I no longer held back, for fear of being denied or unwanted. I went with him to the shop several days a week. He was teaching me to ride horses at the ranch. For once in my life, I felt like I belonged. I had a home. It was wherever Huck was.
When he didn’t say anything more, I realized he was waiting on me to say something.
“Okay,” I said, clasping my hands in my lap.
“I’m working on how to begin,” he replied.
I felt a sick knot in my stomach.
“That doesn’t sound good,” I whispered.
His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “I guess it depends.”
I bit my bottom lip. “You’re scaring me.”
“Baby, when are you going to stop expecting the worst?”
I wasn’t sure that day would ever come. “I don’t know. You just look serious.”
He grabbed my leg and tugged me closer to him. “Do you remember when I told you that if you tried to leave me, I’d tie you to my fucking bed?”
I smiled and nodded.
“Last night, when you cried my name and came on my dick, what did I say?”
“That I fucking owned you,” I replied, feeling the heat in my cheeks.
He nodded, then ran his hand up my leg. “It’s not smart. Loving me,” he whispered. “But damn if I’m gonna let you stop.”
“Loving you is out of my control, but it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I’m not a good man.”
I smiled at that. “You’re right,” I agreed. “You’re a bad man. But that turns me on.”
He chuckled. “Is that so?”
“Yep. But I’m messed up in the head.”
He reached up and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “You’re perfect.”
I wasn’t, but if he wanted to think so, I would not argue.
“You’ll never know just how fucking dark I am. If you knew the shit I’ve done, that I do, you wouldn’t love me.”
I wrapped my hand around his arm. “You’re wrong.”
He closed his eyes. “What if I told you that I’ve tortured people for revenge?”
I was sure he’d done more than that. “They must have done something very bad.”
