Page 30 of Take the Sub and Run

“I don’t know why I’m c-crying.”

“Don’t you?”

Once more, the world spun, this time as he stood. Sofie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding on as he carried her.

“Grab a blanket for us,” he said as he crouched by a set of low wooden drawers.

With one hand, she pulled a drawer open, grabbing out a soft, fluffy blanket. She held it in her lap as he stood with a grunt of effort.

She’d never been carried before, and wondered if she was too heavy. She should tell him to put her down but…but she didn’t want to be put down. She wanted him to hold her in his arms. Wanted to feel safe and protected.

It was madness that he was the one she felt safe with, when he was the reason she felt naked far beyond lack of clothes.

He returned to the wide padded bench he’d pushed up against the glass and set her down on her feet, but only for a moment. To her surprise, he sat cross-legged, back against the glass, then pulled her into his lap before spreading the blanket over her.

“Wait,” she said, sitting up. She shook out the blanket then tugged his shoulders so he leaned forward.

“The glass is cold,” she said as she slid the blanket around him.

Darting a glance at his face, she saw his eyes widen in surprise as she finished protecting him from the cold glass. Settling back into his lap, she pulled the edges of the blanket around herself. It was just barely big enough.

“Taking care of me, Angel?” he murmured against her hair as she wiggled until she was comfortable, head tucked into his neck.

“Yes. As long as the blanket stays over my toes.”

He immediately grabbed the bottom edge of the blanket and tucked it under her feet, his hand staying there, his fingers holding the blanket against the ball of one foot, his thumb smoothing over the top in slow sweeps.

The logistics of getting the blanket had dried her tears, but now the feel of that simple, almost absent-minded touch on her foot brought tears to her eyes once more.

Quiet, quiet, quiet, she chanted silently.

“Cry if you need to,” Andrei murmured, proving she wasn’t fooling him.

“I was trying to be quiet,” she sobbed. “It didn’t work.”

His low laugh rumbled through her, and fresh arousal stirred in her gut.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” She rubbed her cheeks against his shirt to dry them. “I’m not sad. And I almost never cry, anyway.”

“Well that explains it, doesn’t it? If you never cry, never relinquish control and give in to your emotions, then when you finally give control to me…” He paused. “Control to a Dom, I mean. Then you can cry.”

“Oh,” she said softly, then quickly added, “of course.”

They were quiet for a moment, her tears dried, a soft, warm lethargy all that remained.

“Did you try the shrimp?” he asked unexpectedly.

“The shrimp?”

“At the museum party.”

“Oh! No, I was too excited.” She sat up enough to look at him. “Were they good?”

“Delicious. I ate four and would have had four more.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well you see, I was hanging back, enjoying myself with food and drink while Landon went and got his girl.”

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