Page 36 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell you that shit in the gym to make you feel guilty enough to let me have sex with you. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Do you?” he prods. I can hear the disbelief laced into his question, and it nearly breaks me.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I do.”

“Then why do you think you would disappoint me?”

Too much of a coward to look him in the eye, I keep my cheek pressed against his warm chest and admit the truth. “Because I’m curious, D. I’m curious too. About what it could be like between us. But what if I freak out? What if I lose my shit as soon as you touch me? What if…even if I want it…what if that’s not enough? What if you can’t erase his touch? Hell, even a kiss is terrifying.” I laugh, sounding like a lunatic before more word vomit spills out of me. “What if I’ll always be lost in my own head? What if I’ll never get to share that piece of myself with someone I want? That petrifies me.”

“Shhh….” The heat from his hand seeps through my tank top as he rubs my back up and down. Over and over again. The gesture is almost hypnotic and finds a familiar cadence with his steady heartbeat that pulses against my cheek. My breathing evens out as his warm breath tickles the top of my head.

“What are you thinking?” I whisper.

“That you’re worth waiting for.” He pulls me closer, then rests against the headboard and drops a quick kiss to the crown of my head. “Get some rest, Blue. I’m not going anywhere.”

I wait for sleep to pull me under, but it doesn’t come. Not unless I can quiet the what-ifs that are badgering me.

“Hey, Diece?”

“Yeah?” he rumbles.

“Will you kiss me?”

“I, uh…,” he hesitates. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Blue.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need to make sure you understand that you don’t owe me anything.”

“And what if I already understand that?” I challenge, pushing myself against his chest to face him.

“I’m not a good guy, Q. I’m the big, bad mafia man, remember?”

“I know that.”

“Then why would you want me?”

“Because I think you could be my big, bad mafia man,” I tease. His smile relieves an ounce of the pressure in my chest.

“Would you want that, Q? To own someone like that?”

The thought makes me pause before I lick my lips and admit, “I think I could. Might just depend on who. Will you kiss me? Please?”

Inching closer to me, he whispers, “What’s your safe word?”

“I know my safe word—”

“Say it.”

“D—”

“Answer the question, Blue.”

“Fine,” I huff. “Six.”

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