Page 81 of Under Locke & Key
I swallow convulsively at the heat and longing in his gaze. Bryce is holding nothing back and I feel stripped raw under those warm eyes that promise far more than I’m willing to let myself want or lose.
“The sign made that clear,” I whisper. My voice is husky with repressed emotion and I am acutely aware of how alone we are in this space we’ve spent so many weeks in.
“I hope you weren’t upset by it. It just felt right.” Bryce strokes the pad of his thumb against my bottom lip and it takes everything in me not to part my lips and surge up toward him.
“Not upset. Surprised, but in a good way. Did you mean what you said? About me being your partner?” I can’t look away, his eyes searching mine for something.
“I meant every word. I’d planned to discuss things with you, to offer you fifty percent of the business. My partner in work and life. You don’t have to help me run it. I’m happy to support whatever it is you’d prefer to do but it’s your due. As long as I have you by my side, I don’t care what the circumstances are. I know Steph showing up and throwing my past in your face was upsetting—to both of us. But the only thing that is important to me is the future, and whether you’re in mine.” His fingertips explore the contours of my face, trailing down the sides of my neck and causing goosebumps to rise all over my body.
“And if I said I wanted to go back to Lakin-Cole?” Not that I do, but I need to know how deep this is for him before I can jump in with both feet.
“Then I’ll drive down to D.C. as often as I can, or we can find a place in between D.C. and Dulaney and each commute. Don’t let the job be the reason you pull away. Although, if I can be honest, I want to tell you to say no to your old boss. I want you to tell him to shove it because he didn’t appreciate you until it was too late and he shouldn’t reap the reward of having you back after he mistreated you in the first place.”
It never even occurred to me that that was an option. In my mind it was an ultimatum, an either or. The prospect of a compromise didn’t register and I’m a little ashamed to admit that. Although everything in my life this far has felt so black and white. There were rules to follow and expectations to meet, and this felt like one of them.
Knowing that Bryce wants to be with me—stay with me—no matter how we go about it gives me a courage I’ve lacked for months.
“I don’t want to go back. I just needed to make sure you want this as much as I do. Because I really do. I want you in my apartment everyday. I want your stuff nestled up to mine and our clothes side-by-side in the closet. The bathroom will smell like your body wash after you shower and I’ll breathe it in like I’ll never get the chance to again every time. We’ll watch more melodramatic TV dramas and game shows, and have great sex, and love each other—I hope.”
Bryce smiles so big his eyes crinkle. “It's more than hope for me. I love you, Rachel. I know that. It's so deeply ingrained in me after all these weeks together it feels like an unshakable certainty. The sun rises in the east every morning. Margaritaville is a strangely sad song. No one will ever live up to Alex Trebek as a Jeopardy host, and I love Rachel Mackey.”
I give a watery laugh at the comparisons, tears thick in my throat and I have to clear it before I can respond. “I love you too, Bryce. Though it scares the hell out of me.”
“We'll figure the rest out, as long as we're together that's all that matters.” He leans down and sweeps me up into an overwhelming kiss
Bryce's arms are strong around my waist, hoisting me against him so that we are pressed so close together I can feel his heartbeat through our shirts. I return it with fervor, my knees trembling, and if he wasn't holding me so tight—barely touching the floor—I'm sure the shakiness would have been evident.
Feverish kisses, grasping hands. Within the span of a few breaths, Bryce is walking me backward toward one of the unoccupied rooms we've been using as storage for future ideas.
“Are we really doing this here?” I ask.
“Are you willing to wait until we've locked everything up and headed back to your place?” he challenges, staring at my mouth like he's dying for it even though we've barely just pulled apart.
I consider it for a split second. Weighing my options, the lead-heavy lust in my abdomen and my already-wet underwear make the choice for me. If I don't have him now, I'll lose my mind. “Fair enough.”
And then we are nothing but a tangle of limbs and grasping hands. We divest ourselves of our clothes and I'm not sure who does what but I know it's teamwork that leaves us naked and panting.
Bryce's eyes dart around the room and land on the chaise we had bookmarked for our Pride & Prejudice/regency themed room. There's no way it'll hold up to both of us, and it's far too short for Bryce to be able to stretch out on.
“I don't know,” I say, my skepticism sounding breathless given my current state.
“Trust me?” Bryce asks and the gleam in his molten eyes has me nervous to say yes. But curiosity wins out and I nod.
“Stand beside the chaise and keep your eyes forward.” Bryce’s voice is darker, an edge there that’s excited me since the first time he took charge, and I follow his instruction.
He disappears behind me and there’s rustling—fabric and metal clinking. One of the boxes of items we either didn't need or haven't unpacked yet, no doubt.
“If you want to stop at any point, let me know. But I’d like to try something.” He’s behind me and as soon as I nod his hand is on my arm, snaking down to my wrist.
Bryce pulls one of my arms behind my back, my fingertips ghosting along the skin there. Something cold snaps around my wrist and then clicks. The motions are repeated with my other arm until my wrists are bound behind my back by some kind of cuffs.
“You doing okay?” Bryce asks, moving around me to look me in the eye.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little apprehensive but I trust him. And I’d like to see where he’s going with this. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Lean your weight against the back, facing me.”
It’s a little awkward, but I’m able to steady myself. Only for my stomach to do a little flip when Bryce lowers to his knees in front of me. His large hands skate along the outsides of my legs, feather-light on the journey up and then squeezing when he gets to my thighs.
