“No.” On the ride back, she’d already resolved to stay over with him. He needed comfort, not alone time. She wouldn’t push him to talk, but if he wanted to, she’d be there for him. “I’m too tired to drive home. Can I stay here?”
She hoped that by appealing to his protective side, he’d let her stay, and then she’d be there for him when he was ready.
His forehead crinkled as if he were surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We’ve had a long night.” She started toward his bedroom. “Come on. I’ll tuck you in.”
He chuckled. “Are you going to read me a bedtime story too?”
So he wasn’t so distraught he’d lost his sense of humor. That was good. Rook wasn’t the only one at risk. This opened a deep wound in the whole family. They all needed to watch out for one another.
They made their way to his bedroom, and he shed his clothes once inside. Now she wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want to intrude if he needed space, and she hadn’t processed what had happened just before the hospital call. They’d had a night of amazing sex, and there seemed to be some understanding that they were together, but where did they stand now? She didn’t want to be presumptuous by getting into bed with him. Were they a couple? Was it just for sex?
She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Banner collapsed onto the bed. When he looked at her, she said, “Do you want me to stay in the guest room?”
“What?” He pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed. “Get in here.”
That order, she would obey. She took off her dress, well aware of her nakedness, except for a pair of flimsy panties. But it wasn’t the time or place for sexy time. She got in and laid there awkwardly, wanting so badly to pull him into her arms and tell him everything would be okay.
Seeing him so destroyed tonight over his brother’s pain had stirred something in her—a fierce protectiveness so strong she’d had to fight back her own tears on the drive back from the hospital. His suffering broke her heart. Right now, all she wanted to do was to fix it. To make sure Banner knew he wasn’t alone, that he’d never be alone again if she had any say in the matter, and, more than anything, that he was loved.
Love. Her eyes welled with tears. He’d fought with Ambrose—over her. He wanted her. He’d said so. She was his. He’d said that, too, from what she could remember. Or had it been a dream?
Unable to help herself, she turned and curled her body around Banner. She imagined herself as a protective barrier, shielding him from the world, at least for now. He may have thought she was his, but he was just as much hers. And if he thought he was the only one with a protective side, he was dead wrong.
He was already sound asleep, his snores filling the stillness of the room.
Poor guy.
She hadn’t known much about his family before that night. Now that she’d experienced it firsthand, it was obvious why he was such a nurturer. From what she could tell, he’d taken care of his little brother for the last few years. His mother seemed as though she’d checked out, but her tears and worry might have been a turning point. His sister was . . . awkward and didn’t seem to read people well. Rook may have fared worse if it weren’t for Banner in his life.
She’d known Banner had a big heart, but now she understood the depths of it. He’d given so much of himself for his family. How was there anything left for him? No wonder he had trouble settling down with a girl. Even knowing he had family burdens and other priorities didn’t scare her.
And if he’d meant what he’d said earlier—that he loved her and wanted to keep her for himself as more than just as a kinky sex partner—she could accept the “slave” label and make things work.
What was a label, anyway, but a futile attempt to classify something so people could understand it? Some things weren’t meant to be labeled and classified. Some things were so deep and personal that t
hey couldn’t even be explained in words, never mind words other people outside the relationship could understand. D/s was like that.
Whether Banner wanted to call what they had Master/slave or Dom/sub or whatever, it didn’t matter. It was special, and it was theirs.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she kissed his shoulder, hoping he felt the love in his dreams. The next day would be an interesting one. She had to find a way to express all of this. Were there even enough words? Maybe the timing was wrong. After what had happened with Rook, the last thing Banner needed was more crap to think about.
It would kill her, but she’d hold it in for now. She’d gone this long without acknowledging it. Another few days wouldn’t matter.
***
Waking up was like fighting through quicksand. Her eyelids felt like they were glued shut. Why was she so tired? The events of last night rushed through her mind, jolting her awake.
Crap.
Last night had been a shit storm. And now she had to help her . . . Master? Finally, she peeled her eyes open and took stock of her surroundings. Banner’s ceiling. Warmth cocooning her bare body. And there he was, staring down at her.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “Rook is doing really well. Meadow just took over for my mother, and I need to be there at two.”
“Thank goodness.” He looked so relieved that it made her smile. She crinkled her nose. “How long have you been awake . . . and staring at me?”
He chuckled. “Not long. And you’re cute when you’re sleeping. Not my fault.”