“Shut it. You’re so fuckin’ stubborn, Kat. If I didn’t notice, you’d have tried to walk up to the cottage. Just like you kept dancing when you should’ve sat down. No. This ends now. I want full disclosure.”
“Full disclosure?” I wanted to laugh and instead it came out as a huff-laugh because he was looking scary again and laughing in his face would not help my cause.
“Yeah.” I had my arms linked around his neck as he carried me up the path. His face was stern, unrelenting. He was completely serious. “Hold on,” he warned as he held me with one arm and opened the screen door then proceeded to the bedroom.
He plopped me down on the bed. “Give me a sec.” He walked into the bathroom and came back with a towel. “Strip.”
I hesitated because I was in shock. Ream was really serious and I was realizing that no matter how much I fought others looking after me, Ream would do it anyway and … it was sweet and I felt like I wasn’t alone in this. His brows rose when I failed to move and he reached for me.
I did a girlie squeal, to my utter horror, and then he lifted my soaking wet top up over my head and tossed it toward the bathroom.
“Bra.”
Ream was my ultimate cookie-dough Haagen Dazs, and I wanted to taste him again. He was more concerned about my health right now than kissing me and I needed to change that. Biting my lower lip and tilting my head slightly to the side, letting my wet strands of hair fall forward as I reached behind my back to fiddle with my bra. It took me a while. A long while and I could feel Ream’s eyes on me. I didn’t have to look to know his eyes smoldered.
“Do you mind?” I asked and half turned. “It’s all wet and I can’t get it.”
I didn’t dare look at him because I’d be ripping off my bra so fast I’d probably hurt myself.
The moment his fingers touched my cool skin, shivers went through me in a domino effect. I closed my eyes as his fingers slid down my back to my bra. Then in one movement he had it undone, the straps slipping down my shoulders as it fell.
His fingers trailed up my spine and over my shoulders. He slowly pushed the straps lower until they caught on my elbows. I stopped breathing.
He didn’t move. Hands resting on the nook of my arms, straps between his fingers, and my bra no longer covering anything as it hung just below my breasts.
I closed my eyes as I finally inhaled a shaky breath, the edges of my control beginning to teeter as he paused.
And then … Oh God. He leaned in and his lips touched the back of my neck. It was a stroke of velvet and moisture clinging to my skin. “Ream,” I whispered.
He kissed up the side of my neck to my ear then took the lobe into his mouth and suckled. It was long and slow, a languished taste. His teeth grazed and sent tremors up my spine. Then he bit down and I gasped in pain. He licked the sensitive spot and I sighed exposing my throat and leaning back into him.
“This is a bad idea.” He went to move away and I panicked, spinning around, reaching up and grabbing his head on either side.
“No. You’re not leaving me like this.”
“I’m not leaving you. I’ll never fuckin’ leave you, Kitkat.”
Oh God. My heart cracked and so did my voice as I said, “I didn’t mean it that way.”
I turned into him and looked up. He was staring at me as if assessing the situation. Ream was cautious, I knew that. He didn’t jump until he knew where he’d land.
But his coping skills sucked. There was a good chance I’d be in and out of hospitals at some point. Ream had a past with needles, with hospitals, then someone he loved and tried to protect died and he blamed himself. Then there was the uncertainty I often saw in him, a darkness hovering over him. Everything was stacked against us for this to work. But I wanted it to. I had hope that it could.
He showed a side of himself I hadn’t expected bringing me to the cabin. He was spontaneous and I was getting that it was a part of himself he rarely showed others unless he … unless he trusted them. Him talking to doctors about my MS, that was something I’d never expected. It showed he cared and knew exactly what he was getting into.
He was frowning and I guessed he was calculating whether it was the right move to fuck me or not. I wasn’t sure why.
“Ream.” I grabbed the front of his soaking wet shirt and put my other hand on the bulge of his jeans. He groaned. I smiled then slowly undid his pants.
He grabbed my hands. “When we leave here, you’re mine.”
“Ream—”
In one sudden movement he had me on the bed and straddled me, my hands locked in his above our heads.
“Ream, the bed. You’re getting it all wet.” Who was I kidding? I was happier than hell he was on top of me. There was something about the feel of a guy on top that felt so dominant and hot. It was his power and control and that was all Ream.
“We get back … we’re together—entirely. We change my room back into your art studio and I sleep in your bed.” Before the band moved into the farm, my art studio had been Ream’s bedroom. I went to open my mouth when he said, “Not done yet.” I shut it because I really wanted to get this over with so he’d kiss me. “Crisis … him grabbing your ass … that does not happen.” He leaned closer, his mouth so close that if I inched my tongue out I’d touch his lower lip. “Dancing with other guys … does not happen.” His weight leaned into me, and I felt his cock pressing into my pelvis. What did he just say, something about dancing? All I wanted him to do was shut up and kiss me. “I’ve had one woman to look after in my life and I fucked it up. That does not happen again. I don’t make the same mistake twice—ever. That means I make certain you’re looked after.”