Admittedly, his words send a rush of heat through my core. A light throb grows between my thighs as his hand remains there, his fingertips drawing the line of my lips through my jeans. I lean back against his hard chest, purring beneath another deep kiss, but a spark of fear takes hold in my mind.
“I...” My voice shakes. “I don’t know.”
He pauses, releasing our kiss and moving his lips to my throat. “What are you afraid of, Jordan?” he asks. “The smell? The taste?”
“No,” I say, swallowing hard. “It just…”
“What?” he asks, curious.
My cheeks burn, but I push through to answer. “It takes too long.”
“Says who?”
“Says…” I roll my eyes. “Literally every guy I’ve ever been with.”
Bronson’s stare sharpens.
“Well, the first few, anyway,” I say in his silence. “I didn’t give the others a chance to complain.”
“Jordan.” His other arm curls around my waist and he holds me close. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”
“I don’t?”
His chuckle is light, yet sinister. “Oh, no,” he whispers. “Doesn’t matter how long it takes.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, my stomach twisting with doubt.
His embrace tightens. “Fuck those other guys, Jordan. Don’t let them live in your head.”
I turn my body in his arms, wanting to look comfortably at him as I say, “Thank you, Bronson.”
“Relax,” he says. “You take care of us all day. Let me take care of you.”
I kiss him, feeling the heat build in my chest.
Bronson stands tall, his smile growing as he looks at me. “Do you trust me?” he asks.
I raise a brow. “I did until you had to ask.”
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Turn around.”
A moment’s hesitation, and then I twist forward in his arms.
After a moment, Bronson reaches a hand over my shoulder and he shows me an item curled around his fingers. It’s long and thin. Shiny and black.
“What’s that?” I ask, though I’ve read enough smut to have a pretty good idea.
“A blindfold,” he answers.
“Ah. Yeah, that’s what I thought it was. Why do you have one?”
He snorts. “Who doesn’t nowadays?”
I can’t help but smile at that as he gently pulls it taut in front of me.
“Do you trust me?” he asks again, his voice so playful.
I stare at it for a moment longer, but the answer is already on my tongue. “Yes.”