Page 168 of Reverse

“You’re being disgusting, and I’m . . . never mind.”

When he sees my disappointment, his smile dims.

“I’m sorry, baby. Don’t let it freak you out. It’s natural for some women when they have an intense orgasm and is nothing to be embarrassed about. Honestly? I think it’s hot as fuck and can’t wait to make it happen again.” He crowds me as I look anywhere but at him.

“I don’t share your enthusiasm,” I retort dryly.

“But you did,” he chides, “you werevery enthusiasticabout it. You sang opera.” Face flaming, he presses in further, forcing me to look up at him. “No way, don’t hide from me.” The sight of him in the massive shower, seeming fully relaxed andmine, takes my breath away.

“You can talk to me about anything, Beauty, absolutelyanything. Don’t be embarrassed to talk to me, ever. We’re one now. Okay?”

I dip my chin. “Okay.”

“Not good enough. Look at me and really hear me,” he murmurs as his velvety voice surrounds me, as does he, keeping my chin up with gentle fingers. “Don’t ever hide from me. We’re as close as two people could ever be.”

Studying his expression, I see nothing but conviction in his eyes as his words feed my soul.

“Do you get that?”

I clasp my fingers around his neck and pull him closer. “We’re one,” I repeat. Loving the sound of it. “You know I’ve beenonemy whole life too, much in the same way—an only child and apartyof one most of my adult life. This meaning is so much different and so much better.”

“Yeah?” He graces me with a beautiful half-smile as he palms my stomach. “Maybe one day we’ll be two, or three?”

I nod. “One day. Yes. I want that, too.”

His entire demeanor shifts as we conjure a glimpse of a future, our future, his eyes lighting with it as he gazes back at me with reverence.

“Now is the best time for us, just the two of us, and we get to have these kinds of days for as long as we decide to.” He lifts our banded hands, palm to palm, before tethering them together and kissing my wedding band. “I want so many more of these days with you.”

“Me too.”

He nods. With at least a thousand days worth of decisions made, he begins to bathe me with gentle care, using a silky sponge to wash every inch of my body. His eyes trail the workings of his hands, and as much as I want to reciprocate, I’m too exhausted for the moment. At my feet, he glances up at me while gently running the sponge between my legs. I wince, and his eyes soften.

“We’re going to have to give it a rest,” he says in a mournful tone. Even as I go to protest, he shakes his head and nuzzles my neck before whispering. “I do, means the rest of our lives. We’ve got time.”

Even as he says it, I feel the desperation building for us both to keep that reality mixed with his fierce need to protect us. I cling to him as he continues to wash me before working on himself. It’s when he glances over that his expression falls. “Don’t, baby. Please don’t. The minute you start thinking that way . . .” he shakes his head. “We have to be andstayunited on this, okay? We can’t apologize for loving each other, or we’ll give others the power to condemn us.”

“Right,” I nod. “You’re right.”

I’m graced with another breathtaking smile as his long, wet lashes mat together under the steady spray. “Concentrate on us tonight, and don’t let fear or doubt destroy a second of it.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“You’re safe with me . . .” He traps my hand, squeezing my fingertips together before pressing them to my temple. “Here,” he rasps out before flattening my hand over his heart, “here . . .” He glides it down his muscular chest and navel before cupping his cock. “And most definitely here.”

I can’t help my grin as I wrap my hand around his hardening length and pump him.

“Don’t start,” he scorns, “you need to rest.”

“I need you.”

“You have me, Beauty.”

“Is this real?” I rasp out, love drunk, spent, blissed-out, but already yearning for more.

“Real in every fucking way,” he declares vehemently.

“When did you know you loved me,” I ask.

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