Page 85 of Trigger

Icould feel him smile.“J’aime regarder ta bouche quand tuparles.”

Ifrowned. “What does that mean?”

“Itmeans that I’m glad we made up.”

“You’relying, Tye.”

“Proveit, Dominic.”

Atthat point we both laughed, and it made me feel better than I felt in days.

Thatexpression…distance makes the heart grow fonder.It was true because Icouldn’t get enough of him. His nearness. His scent. Hell, his touch. He was atouchy-feely guy, and some of it had rubbed off on me. It didn’t feel weirdthat he was a man, either. It felt right with him, as if he were a separate entitythat was almost… sexless.

Whenhe kissed my cheek, I hummed with approval. Fuck it. I liked it.

“More?”he asked me as if he could read my mind.

“Mm-hmm,”I murmured, feeling as if I was stuck in some kind of alcoholic haze.

“Youfeel like cuddling?” he said, caressing my cheek.

“Ifeel like you owe me.”

Hechuckled and kissed my jaw. It was more like a pec. Sweet. Playful. Harmless.When I turned my head to the side, he kissed my neck. I could feel himunbuttoning the top button on my shirt before he rested his forehead on mychest, and then, for a few moments, he remained still.

Iopened my eyes and frowned, wondering if he fell asleep.

“Whydid you stop? Are you sleepy?”

Hebrought my hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“Istopped because you’re drunk. I don’t want you to regret things when you wakeup.”

Hiswords made zero sense.

“Whatwould I possibly regret? And why do you think I’m drunk?”

Heraised his hand. “How many fingers?”

“Fourand a half.”

Hechuckled and lay down on his back, making me frown, but my frown disappearedwhen he pulled me with him.

“Iwant to sleep with you like in the bunker,” he murmured. “Please.”

Tryingnot to think about that place, I lay my head on his chest and wrapped my armaround his waist.

“Likethis?”

“Yeah,”he replied, kissing my forehead. “Are you comfortable?”

“Mm-hmm.Will you tell me now?”

“What?”

“Whatdoes it mean? The thing you said earlier.”

“J’aimeregarder ta bouche quand tu parles?“

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