“With you, yeah. Just don’t expect me to be like that with everybody else.”
“There’s something else that’s going to be an issue. I hate to say it—really, really hate to say it—but I have jealousy issues. Don’t get me wrong, I recognise that this is my problem to deal with, and I wouldn’t become paranoid or see things that aren’t there. But you’ve slept with a lot of females on this island, and I won’t do well with that. I can be a bitch when jealousy is riding me,” I warned.
“None of them meant anything to me. Not one.” His thumbs stroked my hipbones. “But Dean did mean something to you, and it’s pretty hard for me to deal with that even though I’m not a jealous person. So I figure we both need to make the other feel secure enough that those issues go away.
“Look, I know this won’t be easy, Imani. I won’t be easy. I can be pushy, selfish, insensitive, aggressive, and I like my own way. I’ll fuck up, but I will never purposely hurt you. I want to be the one who makes you smile, who makes you laugh, who makes you feel safe, and who makes you come every night. I’ll do my damn best to make sure all of that happens.”
I swallowed, unable to miss the total sincerity in his eyes and tone. I’d never thought I’d hear those words from him. Never.
“You’re right that we’ll have no support from the people around us. That means we gotta be tight, Imani. It means we gotta stand strong against it and have each other’s back. I’m up for that challenge. This is not me choosing to try a relationship. I’m claiming you as mine. You belong to me and only me, just like I belong to you.”
Pausing, he framed my face with his hands. “I’m a big risk. I get that. No one—not even me, baby—can judge you for being hesitant to take that risk. So maybe you should ask yourself if you’d regret it if you didn’t take that risk. I know what it’s like to live with that kind of regret, Imani. Let me tell you; it’s shit, and it eats at you. I didn’t take a risk on you when I should have. I didn’t make the right choice, and that hurt us both. I won’t pull that shit again. I want you to be happy. I don’t know how the fuck I’ll manage to make you happy, but I’ll sure as hell try.”
It wasn’t often I found myself a little lost for words. I couldn’t remember a time when my happiness had mattered to anyone. I’d grown up in a household where I was a constant disappointment to the people around me. I’d just never been good enough for them, never had a real place in my own family. It was more like I’d existed around them.
Not once had my parents ever smiled at just the sight of me. Nothing I did had ever impressed them or brought them joy or pride. Not one single thing. They’d wanted me to live my life their way, regardless of if that made me happy or not. I wanted to be happy. Sometimes, searching for good things meant taking risks.
I put my hands on his chest. “Want to know why I don’t like entering into relationships that don’t have possibilities? My grandmother was in her late twenties when she got divorced. She didn’t do too well with it, and she was pretty lonely. She told me that she met a guy a few years later; that he cared for her and she cared for him…but she wasn’t ready for anything serious. She needed more time before she committed to someone again. So they went their separate ways.
“She never found anyone else. People take it for granted that they’ll meet someone later ‘when they’re ready.’ But that doesn’t always happen, so they end up settling for somebody because they don’t want to be alone. My grandmother didn’t want to settle for someone she didn’t truly care for. So she grew old alone, she shared all her highs and lows alone, and she died alone. I don’t want that for myself. I don’t want to live with that kind of regret.”
“Is this you agreeing to take a chance on me, baby?”
“Well…yeah.”
His mouth curved into a lopsided grin. “Good…that means I don’t have to keep you captive until you agree to give me what I want.” I got the feeling he wasn’t kidding. “And I want everything, Imani. I know I’ve gotta earn that. I will. I swear that to you, baby.”
I nodded. His mouth closed over mine, and his tongue swept inside. Tasted. Dominated. Owned. Butch didn’t kiss, he possessed. Demanded everything I had and took it greedily while his hands pulled me closer, letting me feel how hard he was for me.
He broke the kiss with a growl. “All I want to do right now is fuck you. But first, you need to feed.”
I did. When Kejas were thirsty, it caused a slight discomfort at the back of our throat. Mine was now more like a rough tickle. As he cupped the back of my head and put my mouth to his throat, my fangs descended.