And I Love You the Most (This Love Hurts 3)

He takes his time to place a palm on the dresser on either side of me, essentially caging me in. “You know what,” he answers and places a small kiss on my bare shoulder before pushing off and taking his place on the end of the bed.

One thing I’ve noticed in the past few days is how he doesn’t stay still for long until I lie with him. Then it’s as if we could lie together forever.

“I was thinking of something,” he says, letting the previous conversation go for a moment. As I slip on the cami, I keep my eyes on him.

“What’s that?”

Falling back onto the bed, he watches the fan spin above it as he tells me, “I remembered this plate. You know the switch plates for light switches in children’s rooms?”

“The wall plate?”

“Yeah,” he answers and I still don’t know where he’s going with this.

“Yeah, I know them.”

“I don’t remember much about my parents, or my aunt really. But I remembered last night that I had a wall plate of this cartoon character in my bedroom when I was a kid, and I think it was at my aunt’s house too.”

“A wall plate … what made you think of that?”

“I was just wondering what my parents would think. And I remember they loved me. They loved me so much they screwed a cheap switch plate on the wall with some cartoon dog on it. I barely remember living with my aunt, but I think she took the switch plate and put it up too.”

I’m careful with my words. I’ve never talked to Christopher about his family. With Cody I only ever spoke about his uncle and even those conversations were short. He’s not well and the last Cody spoke of him, he’d forgotten who Cody was. “You’ve been thinking about your childhood?”

“I was wondering why … you know … why it happened and if there was any sign that I would be like this before I was taken.”

“And?” I prod him for more after a long moment of quiet.

“And all I remember is how much I loved that stupid wall plate and that my mother was the last one to kiss me good night and turn off the light. I remember watching her do it.”

“I don’t think I had a wall plate that I remember, but I had wallpaper of pink polka dots, just a few inches off from the ceiling.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” he comments and I let out a small huff of a laugh.

“Do you want to keep talking about it?” I ask him, reaching for my face cream, but hesitate to open it. I made a deal with myself. If he talks, I’ll take it. If he doesn’t, then I’ll talk. I’ll learn his secrets, and he’ll learn mine.

“I want to know if you’ll come with me? For a short while?”

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere away from here. Away from what I’m used to. Some place that doesn’t have memories hiding in every corner. Would that be all right? I … I can’t stay here any longer. Not when everything looks so different but I can’t be anything other than what I’ve been.”

I’m not sure how my sister will feel if I leave again. Biting the inside of my cheek, I don’t comment on that or acknowledge my thoughts of his brother.

Instead I reach for a small plastic bag on my dresser. “I bought something today,” I tell him and that gets his attention.

“You want to open it or should I just show you?” I ask him and he stands slowly, taking his time as his eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Show me,” he commands and makes his way back to me. The bit of curiosity that adds to his charm vanishes when I pull the cuffs from the bag. They’re simple metal, just like the ones he has.

The tension thickens, and his swallow is audible. “For you or for me?” It’s a serious question and I knew his reaction might not be one of an eager man.

“For me. For you to cuff me to the bed and for me to—”

“I don’t need that, Delilah.”

“I do, though,” I stress. “I can admit it and I need you to know that.” Any indication that he’ll refuse leaves us. “I need this and I need you to do it.” I’ve dreamed about being cuffed underneath him, I’ve felt that fear and then a mix of desire. “I mean it. I want this.”

“You want me to cuff you to the bed?” he questions with his chest pressed against my shoulders. He destroys the distance between us until my bare back all the way down to the swell of my ass is pressed against him. “And then what?” he asks, fully giving in to my wish.

“Whatever you want,” I whisper, meeting his sharp heated gaze in the mirror of my dresser. His head falls forward, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. As he plants a soft kiss there, I add, “You can do what you want to me.”