Page 84 of Perfect Praise

“Forgot?!” he teases. “We talked about it earlier on the way home.”

“Well, Imayhave picked up my laptop and started editing your family’s photos, which then led me to forget that time existed.”

Locke tsks playfully and sweeps me off my feet as he steps across the threshold of my door. “Is that why you’re ignoring my texts?”

When he sees my phone charging on the kitchen counter, he detours to allow me to pick it up before he proceeds to carry me up the stairs.

Hottie Icicle

Have you ever seen an icicle in a tuxedo?

It’s hot.

:)

I look up and laugh. “Who are you?”

“You like what you see. Admit it. I saw your eyes almost bulge out of your head when you opened the door.”

I bite my lip in protest and throw my phone on the bed as we pass. Locke places me back on my feet only when we navigate through the bathroom and into the walk-in closet.

He pulls my T-shirt off over my head and tugs my leggings down. He bends down to his knees, so I use his shoulders to keep myself balanced as he slips each pant leg off. Then he rustles around in the top drawer of the closet island to find me a thong.

Determined, sweet, purposeful. He’s very many things.

“What did Russ say to you earlier when no one could hear you at the end?” I ask, curiosity overpowering.

“Nothing. He’s an asshole,” Locke scoffs and bends back down to kiss my knee. “Don’t worry about it.” He chuckles when I sigh, because he knows that’s the last thing I’ll probably do. “In the absolute nicest way I can put it, he told me he’ll win in the end.”

“Locke,” I say, amused, “you’re a million times better at golf than he is.”

His hand runs up my inner thigh before I step into the underwear he pulled out for me. “He wasn’t talking about golf.”

“Oh,” I breathe. My mind stretches into infinite directions wondering how Russ tried to tear down both of us at the same time before I laser in on one thought. “What did you say back?”

Locke pulls the nude satin thong up, but not before licking me once, slowly, like he wants the taste of me on his tongue the rest of the night. “That he will never touch you again.”

My legs wobble as my heart beats wildly into my throat. This man is dressing me—pressing, imprinting himself on my heart.

“You’re not…” I start, barely a whisper. Maybe I know it’s a ridiculous thought as soon as I think it, but that doesn’t stop me. “This isn’t, like, a test?” Locke furrows his eyebrows, but I’ve said it now, and I need to keep going. “You’re not playing a game with yourself to see if I don’t give a shit. You’re not trying to see if you can make me care or like you. Like you’re timing me, or timing yourself to see how long it takes for me to fall for you. Right?”

He bores his eyes into mine. “You don’t actually think that, do you? That I’d do something like that to you?”

“No,” I insist, my cheeks heating. “I don’t know. I feel insecure, Locke.”

Exposed. Vulnerable. Defenseless. I’m very many things too, but strong isn’t one that comes to mind first.

He could squish me underneath his heel without a second thought, but for me, it would cause lasting effects. I’m realizing now I’ve already given him too much of me.

“I would never intentionally hurt you, Maren.”

“And unintentionally?” I ask, running my hands through his hair.

“I don’t know,” he says as he stands. “I’ve never felt like this. I do know I would inject you straight into my veins if I could.”

I tip my face up toward his, resting my hands against the island. “Why do you talk about me like you’re addicted to me?”

“Because I am,” he growls, hoisting me to sit on top of it. “I’m fucking obsessed with you. Does that scare you?”

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