Page 90 of Sin of Love
“Try again. Your eyelashes are angry-fluttering against my neck.”
A begrudging smile twitching a corner of my mouth, I lean back to see his face. His beloved, scruffy, gorgeous face.
I blurt, “Nate and London are at Crossroads right now putting together a playroom for us to use tonight because they think I need to relive—no, rewrite—what happened there, especially since finding out it was Julep who hurt me back then, and they think if you and I—”
“Whoa, slow down,” he interjects, shifting back. He clasps my shoulders and squeezes them gently, concerned gaze roaming my face. “Mon bijou, listen. I’m a little worried about where you’re going with this. There’s nothing you could say that would convince me to use a whip on you. Or hurt you at all. Even the thought is abhorrent.”
Tension in my body releases in a wave of warm relief. “Thank God. I mean, I wasn’t—didn’t want that.”
Confusion draws his brows together. “What, then? Tell me what you need and it’s yours.”
I can barely hold his gaze, but I hang onto the connection, leaning into the twisting discomfort, the feeling of full, messy exposure to another person.
Gideon has earned my trust a thousand times over. I can do this. We can do this.
“I want a new memory,” I tell him. “At Crossroads, in the same playroom. I want to face it. Make it something new. Will you do this for me? I know it’s a lot to ask, and it’s not fair to drop this on you...” I lose courage, my gaze falling to my lap.
His hand cups my jaw, fingers sinking back and around to capture my neck and guide my face back up. Our foreheads touch. Our breath mingles.
“Deirdre, if you’re asking me to make love to you in a playroom at Crossroads, the answer is yes, of course I will. But the curtains stay closed.”
I nod. “Agreed.”
“And there are no whips or other toys in the room, unless they’re fuzzy, silky, or otherwise harmless.”
I smile, knowing the request is already being taken care of by our friends.
“Agreed.”
“No pain,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. “Only pleasure.” Soft kiss on my other cheek, then my forehead. “Only love.”
I close my eyes. Sink into the moment. The space we make. This unlikely, unlooked-for home that I will never, ever take for granted.
Gideon.
“Only love,” I echo.
