Page 38 of Flog Me, Sir

He grasped the back of my neck and pulled back, once more searching my eyes. “Don’t shut down on me already, Lissa. I just got here.”

I blinked, wondering how the hell he knew where my mind went.

“Stay with me—I know you’re scared. I am, too.” He cradled my face in his hands. “Just let me take care of you tonight, okay? We can face our demons in the morning.”

Throat tightening, I considered his words, his suggestion of enjoying just one night together without past shit to choke the joy from being together.

“Please, Lissa.” His lips tilted enough a twinkle lit his eye. “As a birthday present?”

The panty-melting smile I expected no woman could deny graced his face. I huffed—and his smile widened. “You and your damn smile,” I muttered, my focus unwavering from his lips. Soft, sensual curves...

Unable to help myself, I leaned in and brushed mine over his. “Happy birthday,” I told him again.

“Is that a yes?” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing my cheeks.

I pushed away the self-loathing, telling myself I would deal with it in the morning, just like he’d said. “Yes.”

---