This time, I cocked my head.
“The hug.”
“Oh. Right.” When I’d clung to him like a koala clinging to its mother. “Well, thank you again.”
“What do you want, Devon? Or should I ask what do you need?”
You. But that scares the shit out of me.“What are you offering?”
“Do you want to play? Playing doesn’t just center me.” He placed a hand on my cheek. “It calms you as well.”
God, he knows me so damn well. “I didn’t bring any of my toys.”
He grasped my hand. “I seem to remember this being very effective.”
“Do you mind marks? Where people can’t see, of course.”
“Never. Especially if they’re made by you and I can feel the pain for a day or three.” He held my gaze. “Do you need your toys?”
I shook my head.
Slowly, he nodded.
And swallowed.
Hard.
“What is it? If you’re hesitating?—”
He shook his head. “I want you to tie me up.”
My world bottomed out.
CHAPTER 37
JACK
“Are you sure about this?” Devon asked.
Holding his gaze, I nodded as I untied the belt on my bathrobe. “Yes.”
He swallowed, watching me slide the thick white belt free from its loops. As I handed it to him, he met my eyes again. “I thought that was a one-time thing.” Still, he closed his fingers around it.
“I thought so too. And maybe with anyone else, it would’ve been. With you…” I trailed off, at a loss for how to put it into words.
Devon stared down, watching his own thumb rub back and forth on the terrycloth. Something lurked behind his eyes and in that crevice between his eyebrows, but I waited for him to put it into words instead of trying to pull it out of him.
Finally, he looked at me through his lashes and whispered, “How is it you know exactly what I need?”
Fuck. Now I was the one who didn’t speak for a moment. Sliding my hand over the top of his, I said, “I don’t know. Not consciously, anyway. But… maybe we give each other what we need.” I paused, then softly added, “Maybe wearewhat we both need.”
Devon squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together as if my words had prompted a sudden flood of emotion that he didn’t want to let out.
I touched his face. “Devon, you don’t?—”
His lips were against mine. I whimpered softly, and I pushed my hand up into his hair as he deepened the kiss. No, I still didn’t know what had crossed his mind in that moment, but maybe I didn’t need to know. Not now. Not yet. Maybe all I needed to know was that he wanted me and this and us—whatever definition of “us” we eventually settled on.
Or maybe I wouldn’t have to wait to find out.