Page 118 of Devoted

“It’s because I feel safe,” he blurted out. “The sides of the bath make me feel contained. But getting wet and then dry was too much for my senses when I got in here, so I just got in like this.”

He lifted his chin defiantly, a slight wobble in his lower lip as he waited for me to tell him he was ridiculous.

Ha, that wasn’t happening with me. His logic was actually faultless. “I’m glad you found somewhere that made you feel safe while you came down from the attack. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here earlier. If you’re not ready to get out yet, I can grab you a blanket or pillow to make you more comfortable?”

Silver lined his eyes as he stared at me. “I can’t work you out, Zeke. You can’t possibly be this perfect. There’s no way.”

I reached out to tuck a curl behind his ear. “You’ve already seen that I’m not perfect, Sam.”

He shook his head. “That stuff doesn’t matter. Not to me. It’s like you’ve been designed exactly forme.”

I bit back the words I wanted to say, knowing he didn’t want to discuss it tonight. “Would that be a bad thing?”

“No,” he said softly. “I’m just not that lucky normally, that’s all.”

Lifting his hand, I kissed his palm. “I think you have rose coloured glasses where I’m concerned, but I’m going to aim for perfection for you regardless. You deserve it, Sam.”

“So you say.”

“I do.” He’d see I was right in the end. Until then, I could wait. “Now, do you want me to grab you some bedding to make you more comfy?”

“No.” His tone shifted into something darker. Something heated. “That’s not what I want right now.”

Confused, I cocked my head to the side. “What do you want, baby?”

His throat bobbed. “I want you to take me to your bed, and for you to fuck me. I want you to make me moan and scream until I forget everything else that’s happened today.”

I wasn’t sure what was wider—my mouth or my eyes.

Sam gave me a slightly unsure smile. “If that’s okay with you?”

27

Sam

My heart was in my throat as I waited for Zeke to answer. In the past, boyfriends and hookups hadn’t taken me at my word. They’d mistakenly believed I needed totalk,or worse, needed space to recover.

When actually, what I wanted, what Ineeded, was to be grounded in the most physical way possible. To be so in touch with my senses that my OCD wasn’t able to grab hold of them again.

Zeke didn’t answer me.

Not with his words, anyway.

He got to his feet silently.

Bent down and scooped me from the bath.

And carried me straight to his bedroom.

“Remind me never to go to the gym with you,” I gasped as he carefully laid me on his bed.

“Why’s that?” He reached over his head, grabbing the back of his shirt and ripping it off in one smooth motion.

I swallowed, hungrily tracing each of his abs. “Because I’d die after five minutes on a treadmill while you’re lifting weights heavier than me.”

His trousers went next, his deft fingers unbuckling his belt and pulling it free. He didn’t look away from me as he pulled a bottle of lube from a drawer, dropping it on the floor at the end of the bed. “Baby, there’s not an inch of you that needs work.”

My brain was telling me to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped me. It was predatory. Hungry.

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