She recoils a little from my confessions, but I don’t regret a word, no matter how overwhelmed she is. Besides, she told me that she likes me, and I’m the epitome of everything she hates. It doesn’t make much sense, but I’m still clinging to that small admission with everything I have.
“Lainey, you have filled every brain cell I have since I met you. I’ve fucked you daily in my head, kissed you to the end of the earth, and before we hooked up, you’re the reason I failed to get two separate women to climax.”
She cringes. “Too much information, Ty.”
“But it’s significant information, Lainey. Really fucking significant. I’m not functioning at work, and I’m definitely not functioning in the bedroom.”
“You weren’t that bad,” she counters quietly. Her attempt to try and make light of my situation spikes a light laugh, and I find myself dipping and pushing my lips to her forehead, inhaling her scent deeply. What I did with Jenna was fueled by an irate yet determined arsehole wanting to hurt the woman in front of me. Childish, one might say. Naturally, I’m not mentioning Jenna . . .
“I only seem to be able to function with you around,” I admit. “I’m fucked if I know why that is, but it is.” I pull away and push some sticky strands of hair from her face, shrugging my apology. “Don’t you see? What you’re doing is draining you. I can see it. You’re so determined to prove something to yourself, I don’t think you even know what that is anymore.”
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m telling you that you have nothing to prove to me, Lainey.”
She definitely goes a little soft against me. “And . . .”
“Just be with me. See what happens. Because I know deep down you really want to see where this could go.”
“I can’t trust you.”
I don’t point out that I’m in the same boat. She’s definitely been with more men than I have women since we met, and she’s definitely lied to me. “All I can give you is my word, Lainey. I want yours, too.”
Her head tilts, so I go on.
“Your word that if you’re in bed with me, you’re only in bed with me.” I need that to be crystal clear. She looks away again, shaking her head mildly, closing her eyes. She’s annoyed, but not with me. She’s annoyed with herself?
“And work?” she asks. “I don’t want people to think I get special treatment.” Looking at me, she swallows. “I love my job. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong somewhere.”
Part of me is wondering whether my presence at the firm is helping toward the sense of belonging. But I don’t raise my thoughts. Instead, I grin cheekily, leaning in and taking a bite of her bottom lip. “But you will get special treatment.”
She sighs. “Sal will be furious. It’ll make things awkward, and I really don’t want that.”
“No one has to know. I don’t want anyone to, anyway. Work is work and we are us. I promise to rein it in at work.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes.” I sound way too confident, and I might regret it. “Yes, I can do that.” I encase her face in my palms and tickle the end of her nose with the tip of mine. “Are you in? And that means no more lies, Lainey.”
She breathes in and holds it for a few, uncomfortable moments. At least, uncomfortable on my part. I’ve pleaded my case. I’ve done what I thought I’d never do. I’m putting my heart in the hands of a woman. And now I’m waiting, painfully waiting, for her to tell me if she wants to join me in this madness. To see where this crazy might take our fucked-up minds.
She releases all the held air and brings her hands up to mine on her face. The smile that breaks is wide. Dazzling. Fucking beautiful. “In,” she says, tilting her head and capturing my lips. “So we’re exclusive?”
Weird. “Yes.”
“No more making me jealous letting me watch you drive away with another woman?”
“No more making me jealous being in the arms of another man?”
“Exclusive,” she confirms. “Nice haircut, by the way.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks, but I’ll be looking for a new hairdresser.”
“Take me to bed.”
Never has that demand sounded so fucking right. “Hold on to me,” I order, feeling her arms immediately wrap around my shoulders as my hands move to her arse and slide her off the counter. Our mouths work each other’s perfectly as I carry Lainey to my bedroom, my eyes remaining open, as do hers. That connection, the frightening intensity of our chemistry, is being reflected back at me through her piercing, clear blues. It reaffirms everything I’ve just said to her—the confessions, the enlightenments. I’ve stumbled across something special with this woman, and a deep hope within me prays she lets it evolve as naturally as I sense it can. No more fighting it. No more running away. No more pointless chasing games. No more lies. This is it.
Lowering her to my bed, my mouth still glued to hers, I feel her hands go straight for my fly, but I quickly grab them, holding them still. I know what she has on her mind. “Oh, no,” I murmur against her lips, guiding her arms up over her head. “No crazy blowjob that’s going to knock me unconscious.” Ty Christianson just declined a blowjob, and not just any blowjob, but a Lainey Summer blowjob. Jesus, what is the world coming to?
She writhers and moans, biting at my lip impatiently. “You’re abnormal.”
“Your fault.” I roll us and push her up so she’s straddling my groin, planting my palms on her thighs. Her hair is in her face, but a quick flick of her head has it gone. I smile when she finds my eyes. “This is all your fault.”
Her head tilts in question and she rests her hands on my chest. “All?”
“Including this.” I flex my hips up subtly, and her lips straighten quickly.
“Then we need to fix it.” She performs a cheeky swivel of her own hips, grinding down.
“Wait,” I choke, pushing my arse into the mattress to escape her. “Just hold your horses one minute.”
“One minute?” she questions on a laugh. “Tyler, I’ve waited for one of your minutes before. It was the longest minute known to man.” She grinds again, making me groan. But no. No.
“Lainey, wait.”
She stills, her shoulders dropping a hitch. “You’re not going to suggest talking, are you? Haven’t we done enough of that tonight?”
This woman. I smile, bordering on embarrassed. I’m also in shock to some extent. So many of the women I’ve bedded over the years have wanted the words. The connection. Wanted me to know them. “I just don’t want you to think this is all about the sex for me.” I actually cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth. It’s official. I’m a certified fucking pussy.
“I don’t.” She swoops down and attacks my mouth in a total ploy to snare me. Damn her, she very nearly gets me.
But I rip myself away and hold her in place, stopping her from tempting me with her annoyingly irresistible wiles. She looks at me, quite rightly in question, and me? Well, I just shrug. Guess it’s better than spilling any more girlie shit.