Page 198 of Bossy Hero

He slides the chair back a few inches, removing himself from my grip.

Oh damn. I tanked the mood, totally failing at mynot-really-a-manipulationseduction.

He attempts to shift his cock back into his pants, getting only half of it in there. “Come up here on my lap, baby.”

“I’d love to, Alan. But I’m fairly certain I’m stuck down here forever. It’s not the mortification from ruining your under-the-desk BJ that’s frozen me, either. My legs are asleep.”

His rich laugh sends tingles over my skin. Iloveto hear him laugh. See him smile. And feel his love.

Dammit. I just love this man.

But why does he love me?

He squats beside me to help me off the floor, then sits down, bringing me onto his lap. I have to shift to the side to avoid breaking his still-hard penis. That would be such a tragedy. For us both.

“Madeline Mason, I owe you an apology.”

“I just ruined your blow job, Alan. I think you’re mistaken.”

He winks. “It’s not ruined. Just delayed.”

I run my fingers through his beard, then settle my hand on the side of his neck. “What on earth do you have to apologize for?”

“If you don’t know why I love you, I’ve done something wrong.” He presses his lips together, dipping his head in a sad arc. “On the night we met, I saw something inside you. And it changed something in me in the process.”

“I was a battered mess, Alan. There was nothing inside me but sadness, fear, and regret. Nothing else.”

He turns his head, bringing his mouth toward my palm to give it a kiss. “Did you ever play with wooden blocks when you were a kid?”

I cant my head at an angle and laugh faintly. “Um. Yeah. My childhood was horrible, but we had blocks to play with.”

“When you played with them, did you see them as individual blocks, or were you able to see them as something more?”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze flickers to the ceiling like he’s searching for a way to explain himself. “When I saw the blocks, I didn’t just see the shapes. It was never just cubes and triangles. I could see what I was building. Iknewthey were individual blocks, but I saw the house I was building with them. Or the skyscraper or church. I saw the completed project. Does that make sense?”

“I guess. A little.” I raise a shoulder in a partial shrug. “I get what you’re saying, but it wasn’t that way for me, so it’s hard to envision what you saw. To me, they were blocks. A red square piece. Blue rectangle. One of those yellow arch things. Even when I stacked them, they didn’t look like anything else. Just stacked blocks.”

His eyes thin to slits. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. I didn’t think this was a unique thing like my brain probe thing.” He wobbles his head subtly from side to side, and his eyes become unfocused. “It’s funny how our minds are wired differently.”

He seems lost in thought for a beat, and I let him linger there. Wherever he is, he seems content.

Almost as if he were smacked, his body tenses, and his expression sharpens. “Oh. I’ve got a better example.” He adjusts his hold on me, bringing his forearm between us.

“What?” I ask, carefully shuffling to his other side.

“My tattoo.” He flips his arm outward, twirling it so I can see the beautiful ink. “I never told you about this one, did I?”

“The flower?” I shake my head. “I love it. But no, I don’t recall discussing it. Although I’ve always wanted to ask, I’ve been a bit too afraid.”

He lowers his arm, cocking his head slightly. “Afraid? Why?”

“Um. Well, it’s a tad feminine, and you’re the epitome of masculinity. So I always assumed it was for a woman.”