“My secrets?” I felt the quick stab of fear. What the hell did he know of my secrets?
“Not that,” he said gently, and I realized that he’d seen my fear and worried that I was recalling my terror of being bound. “But there are things you’re holding back. Admit it. You haven’t told me the whole truth, have you?”
A cold chill swept over me. “No,” I admitted. “But I don’t know all your secrets, either.”
His smile was thin, but there was mirth in his eyes. “Sweetheart, you don’t know any of my secrets.”
“No? Then why don’t you tell me.”
“I don’t think so.”
I realized that I’d tensed up, my body ready for battle. I breathed in and out and told myself to relax. “I thought you said you trusted me.”
“No. I just said that I wanted to.” He reached out and stroked his fingers lightly down my arm. The gesture was sweet and casual, and I doubted he even knew he was doing it. Somehow, that made it all the sweeter.
“The truth is, I haven’t felt this way in a very long time,” he continued as he tugged me close and curled his body against mine. “Not since I was young and didn’t really understand what I had—and what I lost.” He spoke softly, the words holding even more intimacy than his touch. “Now, I think I understand, and I recognize it.”
“What?”
“That click,” he said. “That connection. It’s passion, Sloane. And it’s promise.”
My back was spooned against his chest, and I closed my eyes, then told myself to remember to breathe as he gently stroked my hair. I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be in his arms, but I also couldn’t forget that he’d spoken of trust.
And I didn’t trust him. Hell, I didn’t trust anyone. “Don’t make this more than it is,” I said.
“It already is more.”
I rolled over, then opened my mouth to protest.
“Shut up, Sloane. We’re not going to come to any sort of agreement with words. But in the silence, in the dark, I think we’ll come together just fine.”
He kissed me then, and as his warm hands slid over my naked skin, I had to admit he was right—we came together just fine.
Chapter Thirteen
I woke to the gentle caress of the sun streaming through a small gap in the black-out curtains. I blinked, trying to focus as the events of the night came back to me. And not just any night, but one of the most decadent, erotic, amazing nights of my life.
I pushed myself up and propped my back against a wall of pillows. The space beside me was empty, but there was a small envelope perched on the pillow.
At the gym.
Didn’t have the heart to wake you.
Coffee and croissants in kitchen.
I want you again. Hard and wild.
Soon.
T
I read the note twice, feeling like a teenager who’d just found a mash letter in her locker. All giddy and sweet and a little unsure of what to do next.
As I’d been swimming up from the depths of sleep, my mind had been filled with images of me spooning against Tyler. Of him waking me with kisses, with his hand stroking down my belly to ease the ache between my thighs.
I was wet from the night and from the erotic dreams that had followed, and I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that Tyler hadn’t been in bed to make my fantasies a reality.
He’d done a number on me all right—or maybe I’d done the number on myself.