I scrambled up off the bed so we traded positions, with him now sprawled out and me standing. “What about Lydia?”
His scowl was dark. “Just so we’re clear, I would never have come in here after you if there was anything at all left between me and Lydia Cahill,” he said, and I loved the gravelly, strained sound of his voice, like he was having trouble focusing as he stared up at me with molten eyes.
“You’re sure?”
“I am.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it turns out that no matter the reason,” he said, never looking away from me, “I can’t make a vow to someone I don’t love.”
“But you didn’t love her from the start, so what changed your mind?”
“You did.”
“How?” I asked, unsteady and scared at the same time because he felt so close to opening up to me and I didn’t want to lose him for any reason.
“You changed my whole life when you came through the front door,” he confessed, sitting up, taking my right hand in both of his. “And it sounds like overly romantic drivel, but I swear to God, it was like the sun came in with you.”
It turned out that drivel was my thing.
“Everything about you is kind and gentle and soothing and… hot.”
I exhaled sharply. “I think all the same stuff about you.”
“You do? Even the hot part?”
I chuckled because he sounded surprised. “Especially that.”
“That’s so… good,” he told me, sounding stilted, nervous, the catch of breath betraying him if the slight tremble had not.
“Why?”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. I wanna know what you’re thinking.”
He gestured at me. “I’m thinking about you, Brann, like always. You’re all I’ve thought about for months… all I dream about.”
I am?
His brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched as he struggled for a moment, glancing away from me, concentrating before his head lifted and he was again staring up at my face. “Having you all to myself,” he said levelly, “is the only thing I’m missing in my life.”
His words, the weight of them, the concern on his face, and how tight he was holding on to me told me everything I needed to know.
He wanted me.
He wanted to keep me.
He wanted me in his life.
“It won’t work anymore without you,” he whispered, easing me down beside him and then pushing on my chest until I was flat on my back. He rolled over on top of me before sitting up, straddling my thighs.
I bowed up off the bed, oversensitized after only seconds, his warm, smooth skin sliding over mine. It was more than I ever imagined I’d have.
“Jesus, Emery,” I groaned, staring up at him, admiring his wide, solid chest, smooth belly, and long, toned legs. The man was covered in hard, sculpted muscle, and I realized even though I was more powerfully built, he was not as lean as I’d thought he would be under his clothes. “Look how beautiful you are.”
I was marked with too many scars to count, from my time in the service. I was not the stunning creature that Emery Dodd was.
“Oh, no, make no mistake,” he said with a husky growl, curling over me, hands down on either side of my head, and his lips hovering over mine, “it’s you with your broad shoulders and those amazing muscles in your back, those sexy veins in your hands and that hair that won’t stay out of your eyes. You are an utterly devastating work of art.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “I didn’t think you noticed anything about me.”
“I may be an idiot, but I can see you clear as day,” he said with a wolfish grin. “And you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
It didn’t matter that he was seeing me through the lens of caretaker for his kids and his home; I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. What did matter was his desire to claim me that stirred a flutter way down deep.
Slowly he bent and buried his face against my neck, kissing before sucking, humming as he did it so the sound and vibration combined made me squirm under him.
I wanted to ask how he had just changed the entire direction of his life on a Saturday morning, but if thinking would lead him away from my bed, I could wait for my answers. The part that was important was that he was no longer engaged. He’d ended that before he reached for me. We would deal with the fallout together.
His mouth slid to my collarbone, kissing and suckling the whole way, and I wanted more, so I reached for his cock.
“Wait,” he stopped me with garbled words, clearly loving the taste of my skin. “Take this,” he directed, passing me the lube. “And touch us both.”
Quickly I snapped open the bottle and squeezed some lube into my hand before letting it fall near my pillow. He groaned as I palmed our cocks, stroking us together, tight, the feel of him twitching in my hand, full and hard, making it impossible not to lift my knees and cage him between my thighs. I didn’t want him to move.