Page 33 of Safe Haven

And Maddox calls me out on it.

“You don’t really believe that.” His nose teases alongside mine. “Do you?”

After experiencing what ‘just sex’ is, I can say with relative certainty anything that happens between me and Maddox will never bejustanything. So I shake my head, admitting the truth, but still hoping for more. “Can I touch you then? Make you feel good like you did for me?”

Maddox’s lips curve into a slow, sinful smile. “I think you already know the answer to that.” One hand releases mine, the tips of his fingers coming to trace the line of my jaw. “But, if you’re having a tough time relaxing enough to sleep, I’d be happy to take care of that for you.”

I should say no. Tell Maddox that if I don’t get to touch him, he doesn’t get to touch me.

And I might do that. Tomorrow. When his fingers aren’t teasing along the skin of my neck, reminding me of how good they can make me feel.

“You’re exploiting my weakness right now.” I’m going to cave. I know it. He probably knows it. But I want to hear him acknowledge it. If for no other reason than to make me feel better. To know he isn’t making the offer simply to be nice, but because he genuinely wants to touch me the way I genuinely want to touch him.

“I absolutely am.” Maddox’s wandering hand slides over my shoulder. “The more rested you are, the faster you’ll be, so technically this is part of my job.”

I wrinkle my nose at his reasoning. “Gross.” I use my free hand to grab his wrist, halting his slow exploration. “If you’re only touching me because it’s your job, then you can stop right now.”

His eyes fix on mine. “You know that’s not why I’m touching you, Audrey.” He doesn’t fight my hold, but he does lean in to coast his lips over my cheek until they rest against my ear. “The same way you know it would never bejust sexbetween us.” He nips the sensitive spot just beneath my earlobe. “I touch you because I can’t not touch you, and I don’t know why. Honestly, it’s driving me a little fucking crazy.”

His head lifts, eyes going to where my hand still encircles his wrist. “So if you don’t want me to touch you, that’s fine. But you should know, I’ll do just about anything to earn that privilege back.”

Holy.

Shit.

I was with a guy for five years—even married the asshole—and never once would he have considered touching me a privilege. Maddox and I have spent less than three days together, and already he seems to care more about me than someone who claimed only death would part us.

I release my hold on him immediately. “You can touch me.” Before he moves, I grab him again. “But only if at some point I’m going to get to touch you too.”

I’ve been in a one-sided situation, and it fucking sucks. No way would I ever want that again. Even if I’m on the receiving end this time. Plus, I want to know what he feels like. The sounds he makes. I want to see his expressions and memorize his reactions.

After a few seconds, Maddox finally tucks his chin in what barely qualifies as a nod. “Okay. But not tonight.”

I can live with that. “Deal.” I release him, but a tiny bit of my brain wonders why Maddox is dodging my request. Most men would jump at the chance to be touched. Gotten off.

I guess it’s one more thing that makes him different from the men I’ve known before. One more reason I feel safe and comfortable with him. And one more explanation for why the connection we have is growing at such a rapid pace.

Maddox’s hand comes to span my rib cage, fisting in the fabric of my pajama top before pushing it up to expose my belly. When the warmth of his palm skims over my stomach, I suck in a sharp breath.

Maddox watches the path his hand follows as it glides higher. “You’re so soft.” The curve of his palm wraps around the swellof my breast and his eyes come back to my face, watching as his thumb rotates, the pad of it dragging across my already tightened nipple.

I grab onto him, fingers digging into the hard muscle of his biceps as the scope of his touch narrows. The teasing stroke becomes the pressure of a pinch when he rolls the aching peak, sending a spear of pleasure slicing its way directly to my clit.

“Audrey.”

I arch into his touch, wanting more. Needing it. “What?”

“I want to taste you.”

In the blink of an eye, his touch goes from too much to not enough. “Yes, please.”

Maddox doesn’t hesitate. In the next second, his lips replace his fingers and the sensitive bud he’s been teasing is drawn into the wet heat of his mouth.

The feel of him drawing on my flesh—flicking it with his tongue and raking it with his teeth—has my hips flexing against him in search of relief. He’s the only man who’s ever gotten me off, and now that I know what he’s capable of, I’m greedy and impatient.

“Maddox, I need?—”

“I know what you need.”

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