Page 85 of Bossy Hero

Maybe two.

Staring into her eyes at this distance, I’m able to see so much. A thousand emotions skate by in a matter of seconds. Rather than verbally replying to my confession, she lets her face telegraph her feelings—awe, sadness, regret, and gratefulness. A few more that don’t have names.

All of them make me love her more.

Leaning close, she brings our lips together for a petal-soft kiss. As she pulls away, playfulness colors her heart-shaped face.

Here we go.

“That’s a very long time. Now I see why we didn’t get very close to the one-minute mark.”

Her taunting smile turns into a giggle, drawing me in for another kiss. I love seeing her happy. Even if it’s at the expense of my malfunctioning cock and balls.

Damn traitorous things.

“You’re a million percent forgiven, Alan.” She cups my cheek, her fingers stroking my beard. So much affection in a simple touch. “I’m glad you were so adamant about me coming first.” Like she’s surprised by her joke, her eyes shoot wide, and she covers her sudden gasp.

I turn my head to the side so I don’t blast her at point-blank range with my boisterous laugh.

“I like this,” she says once our combined laughter stalls. “Being this way with you. Not just the sex. Spending time with nobody else around. Just us.”

Unable to resist, I kiss her. Long and sweet.

If I didn’t busy my mouth, I was gonna spoil it by saying something stupid likeI love you. She isn’t ready for that. Still plagued with loads of survivor’s guilt.

“First of all, I refuse to let you call what we did sex. That was foreplay as far as I’m concerned.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “And second?”

“I like being this way with you too. I’m looking forward to so many more of these nights.” I wiggle my head scantly. “Minus the tears and disastrous performance.”

She inches close, burrowing against my chest and throwing a leg over mine. “Alan, can I ask you something?”

I smooth her hair down, resting my chin on top of her head. “Anything.”

“What does this mean?”

Pausing for a beat, I wait for her to elaborate. When an explanation doesn’t materialize, I ask, “What doeswhatmean?”

“Us. Tonight. What are we doing? I know it’s cliché to have a ‘where is this going?’ talk the first night we’re intimate, but I’m too old for guessing games.”

My answer will undoubtedly scare her the fuck off. So I quash it. “What do you want tonight to mean, Maddie?”

“Oh, me first?”

Her tone makes me wonder if anyone has ever put her first. And that makes me want to rage.

“Absolutely. You come first, always.” Since the words parallel our other activities, I jokingly add, “I have a better chance of pleasing you that way.”

She snickers at my little self-jab. “Well, to be honest...” she starts tentatively, letting the unfinished sentence languish far too long for my taste.

Not a good sign.

My abs clench on reflex, bracing for the blow she’s about to deliver to my gut.

“Absolute honesty,” I encourage.

“I’m still not ready for something serious. I’ve only been divorced for a few years after more than two decades of hell. I get that you’re probably beyond ready for more, but I’m wondering if you might be willing to keep this light and fun for a little while.”

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