“Because it’s gotten flipped. Used to be, you brought out the worst in me.”
I pet and massage the taut hardness of his ass, just enjoying that I can, how it feels. “Let’s make one rule, right now, going forward.”
“Okay?”
“No more talking about what used to be. Okay?” I kiss his lips, delicate and tender and slow. “It’s over. It’s past. I don’t care about it anymore. I care aboutnow. I care aboutyou.” I pause, hesitate, swallow hard. “Us.”
He blinks hard. “Us, huh?”
I bite my lip and nod. “On the plane home, I was talking to this older guy next to me, and I referred to you as my boyfriend.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Matthais
My heart,already stuttering from the intensity of what just happened, stops completely. “You…did?”
She nods, her fingernails tickling and scratching in circles on my buttocks. “I sure did. It just sort of popped out and shocked the hell out of me. And then I was just like…oh. Okay.”
I lever backward and upright, scooping her up—she ends up sitting on my lap as I sit cross-legged on the cold marble. “You’re my girlfriend.”
She grins, nods. “Sure am.” Her brow furrows in a frown even as her lips curl up in a smile; it’s a confused expression. “I’ve dated quite a few men, but I’ve never self-identified as anyone’s girlfriend. And I’ve certainly never claimed a man as my boyfriend.”
“How does it feel?”
Her eyes hunt mine. A shrug, which does delightful things to her breasts. “I like it. It’s still weird, that this is happening at all, and that it’s happening with you.” She clasps her hands behind my neck. “But I really like it. It just feels…right.”
I tuck her hair behind her ears, touch her face. The more I look at her, the more I marvel at her beauty. I hope she sees it in my expression, because I simply don’t have words for it. “It doesn’t feel right to me.”
She frowns, confused, the beginnings of hurt creasing her face. “W—what? What do you mean?”
I smile, not quite laughing. “I mean, it feels too good to be true.” I run my thumb over her lips. “I can’t believe I get to be here with you. That I got to experience that with you. I keep waiting to wake up, for this all to be a dream.” I swallow hard, emotion yet again welling up in me and threatening to take over, to make me a blubbering mess. I rule it, but just barely. “I don’t deserve you, Delia.”
“You may not think so,” she says, “But I do.”
Her expression so soft, so understanding, so…accepting, that it cuts into my ability to remain dry-eyed and stable. It just cuts my heart open and exposes all the soft gooey shit that I’ve kept bottled up my whole life. The need to be accepted. The desire to be the center of someone’s affection. The desire to belong to someone.
My parents cared about me. But their way of showing that was material. Not verbal, not physical.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Thai,” she whispers. “Please. I can see you thinking, and I can tell it’s deep, and I want you to share it with me.”
I swallow that lump—or try to, yet again. “I…”
She touches my face. “I have a better idea? How about we talk in the tub?”
“The bath was for you.”
“Overruled. The bath is for us.” She smiles, caresses my hair away from my face. “You ever taken a bath?”
“Not since I was a toddler.”
“So you’ve never taken a bathwithsomeone?”
I snort. “Not hardly.”
“Me either. So this will be a nice first for both of us” She kisses my chin. “Help me up so I can pee.” A wince. “I’m, um, juicy.”
I stand up with her, set her on her feet near the toilet, which is one of those that’s in its own separate little room.
