Page 92 of Tough Nut to Crack

"I mean it," he says, and it sounds like a vow as if he truly does and always will.

There's security in knowing that someone loves you, a certain kind of safety that makes you brave. I feel cherished by him at this moment, and the parts of my brain that are ringing alarm bells in warning begin to grow silent.

"I want the world with you," he says. The words rush out of his mouth as if he has been needing to say them for a while and he can no longer hold them back. "I want you in my bed, in my home. I want you to be my wife and the mother of my children. I want to give you the world."

In a perfect true love story, all of that sounds amazing. It's exactly what I want as well, but I'm far from perfect.

"I'd be as big as a house, Mac. I don't know that children are—"

He moves his thumb from my cheek and presses it to my lips to silence me.

"We're not doing that," he whispers.

I move my head to dislodge his thumb from my lips. "You wanted honesty, and I'm trying to speak my truth. I'm terrified of commitment. I'm afraid to let myself fall and get completely wrapped up in anyone because, in my mind, there isn't a scenario where you wouldn't grow bored or disgusted. I don't want to end up in a divorce where we have to decide on custody and what holidays we're willing to give up with children."

"I'm not going anywhere, Riley."

"You don't know that," I argue because no one can predict the future.

"I do know that," he states with such fire and determination that I'd be a fool not to believe him.

"You may have to remind me often," I whisper.

"I can do that," he vows.

Chapter 38

Mac

"Look at me," I tell her when she darts her eyes away again.

She's reluctant, but eventually, her gaze lands on mine.

"I sort of get it," I begin. "I really do. Society has somehow set the standards on what perfection is and that's different from what you see in the mirror, but society isn't in this house. Society doesn't determine what I consider perfect."

"That's easy coming from a man with muscles for days," she mutters, and I hate the sadness in her tone.

"My job puts these muscles on my body," I explain. "I'm not hitting the gym twice a day. I don't eat chicken and rice every evening for dinner. My job is physically taxing. I'd look different if my job were different. Come here."

I stand, urging her to take my hand.

When she's in front of me, I turn her, pulling her back to the front of my body.

"I love every single curve you have, Riley," I whisper in her ear, running my hand over the rounded curve of her stomach.

"I question your sanity for it," she says, trying to lighten the mood.

I'm not having any of it. The way she sees herself is going to have to change.

"The way you make me feel," I say, grabbing her hand and moving it in between us.

My cock throbs against her palm, and I'm close enough to her to feel the way her breathing changes.

"This is what you do to me. Every time I see you, this is how my body responds. It wasn't as bad when I'd see you on the street before we were intimate the first time, but God, baby. Knowing just how perfect our bodies are together... I just can't help but get ready for you."

"Mac," she whispers.

"I know you feel it too," I continue. "I know exactly what would find if I slipped my hand into your leggings. I know you're readyfor me. I know you crave me. I need you to trust that we're meant for each other. My attraction to you is damn near unbearable, all day, every day. I crave you almost to the point that you're an addiction, one I never want to kick."

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