Page 89 of Sully

“Greedy pussy, too,” he said. His hand shifted down from my waist.

“Sully, stop. You need to rest.”

“Seems like I need to give my girl another orgasm,” he countered, making my heart skip at his words.

My girl.

I wanted more than anything to be that, to believe he genuinely meant that.

“Whoops,” he said, his hand flattening against the triangle above my sex. “Lost you,” he said, picking up on something about the tension in my body. “Where’d you go?”

“I’m right here,” I said, shrugging.

“Nope. You got lost in that head of yours, huh?” he asked, pressing another kiss to my neck, then reaching for my hand, turning me, then pressing me back against the door again. He lifted our clasped hands, pressing both of them against my chest.

“I know I didn’t lose you with the sex appeal. I mean… look at me,” he said, using his other hand to gesture down at himself, that playful, boyish light in his eyes. “Was it what I said?” he asked, eyes going serious in a literal blink.

“Sully,” I said, gaze slipping down. “You need to be resting.”

“Nope,” he said, releasing my hand to grab my chin, forcing my head back up. “I need to figure out what about what I just said was a problem. Was it because you don’t want to bemy girl?” he asked, making my belly flip. “Or because you got yourself convincedIdon’t want that?”

Wow.

It was both refreshing and annoying how good he was at reading me.

I wanted to love it. It made it so I didn’t always have to fumble around to find a way to communicate my more complex or embarrassing feelings. But it also meant I had nowhere to hide, no secrets I could keep.

“I know you don’t take things with women, you know, seriously.”

“Hm,” he said, nodding. “I think there is a difference between casually having fun and not taking things seriously. But I get what you mean. I’ve been pretty open about my escapades in the past. That said, all parties involved knew exactly where we stood. And it’s my mistake for not being clearer with you sooner. This is not just hooking up. Unless that’s all you want.”

“No, I… I’m not really… a hook-up kind of person.”

“Right. Figured as much. And I get why, when you’re hooking up with a hook-up kind of person, that your instinct is to think I’m bullshitting you about wanting more. But I wouldn’t do that.” He leaned a little closer to me. “You believe me, that I wouldn’t lie?”

“Yes.” He’d been nothing but honest with me. And even if my mind was oftentimes an ugly place full of insecurity-driven dark thoughts, he’d given me no reason to doubt him.

“Good. So we’re on the same page. You’re mine. Which means you’ve got lots of fun ahead of you. And I’m gonna learn how to knit!”

It was so absurd that a silly little laugh bubbled up and burst out of me.

“What? You don’t think I could do it?” he asked, looking a little crushed.

“I think maybe we should start with crochet,” I said. “You could make a scarf.”

“Just in time for spring.”

“I think it might take you until next winter,” I teased.

“That’s true. The chances are pretty damn good that I’m gonna keep getting… distracted,” he said, his hand pressing unexpectedly between my thighs, dragging a little whimper out of me.

Then, yeah, he went ahead and got distracted for a while.

But I sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bonnie

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