Page 39 of Tameron

Those were all fair points, but I had no idea how to answer his questions. I dragged a hand through my hair. “I have no idea what I want other than to kiss you again.”

His eyes darkened. “That’s…very tempting.”

“But?”

“But I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable and still figuring things out.”

I snorted. “You’re not taking advantage of me. I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions.”

“I know that. But you’ve never been with a man before.”

“So? I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m asking you to kiss me.”

His lips twitched. “Just kissing?”

Heat pooled in my stomach. “Maybe more. If we both want that.”

“You want to explore your newly discovered attraction to men.”

And my attraction to him, but I wasn’t telling him that. I needed to know if I found him hot because I was into men now or if it was him specifically. It had to be the first, right? “Yes. Is that okay? Or is that wrong to say?”

“You think it’s somehow wrong to tell me you want to kiss me again?” His lips curved into a smile. “I’m not sure on what grounds I could possibly be offended by that.”

“Okay. I don’t know what I’m doing here, so I’m flying blind.”

His expression softened. “We can take it slow.”

“I don’t want slow.” The words came out before I could stop them. “I don’t want to rush into anything either, but… Fuck, I’m not making any sense.”

“You want to explore this new aspect of your sexuality without overthinking it.”

“Yes. Exactly.” I let out a relieved breath. “How do you always know what I mean?”

“Because I do actually pay attention to you.” His lips curved into a smile. “I’ve been paying attention since the day we met.”

Heat crept into my cheeks. “I was such a dick to you.”

“That’s in the past now. You were dealing with a lot, and I’m sure you had a hard time processing all those emotions. Grief is a bitch.”

Grief. Funny how that one label he chose fit so perfectly. There had been anger, hope, acceptance, followed by more anger…but all of it had been part of a grieving process for who I had been. I would never hear again, never be a soldier again, never serve my country again. The old Tameron was gone. Dead, in a sense. And somehow, Dayton had captured that all in one word. Grief. He truly understood. “Thank you.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For understanding.”

“You’re welcome. Can we now consider that topic closed? There’s no need to keep bringing it up. It’s done. You apologized, I accepted. Let’s move on.”

I couldn’t resist. “You’re that eager to kiss me again?”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at me. “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“If you’re not, I can find someone else who will?—”

My words were cut off when he wrapped his hand around my neck and pulled me in, covering his mouth with mine. This kiss was different from our first one. That had been all heat and passion, but this was slower, more deliberate. His tongue traced my bottom lip before slipping inside, and I opened eagerly for him. His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my head for a better angle, and holy fuck, the man could kiss.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. “That was…” My hands were shaking.

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark with desire. “Want to take this to my bedroom?”

---