Oh fuck yes to the hell yeah.
When his climax started leaving him, he began kissing me, gliding in and out, before he seated himself inside and shoved his face in my neck.
“You can put your arms around me now, Ryn,” he said there, then touched his tongue to my skin.
I shivered under him and didn’t delay in wrapping him tight.
And I liked how he communicated our mini-scene was done.
I was again Ryn.
Communication was important between all partners, but for those like us, it was integral to the experience, verbally, physically. Most importantly, it was about him reading what he needed to read from me. And most importantly for me, it was about me trusting he could read it, and him communicating where we were at.
Pre-scene, definitely during scene, and also post-scene.
I loved this indication he had that part down for us.
His mouth came to my ear and there he said quietly, “Pussy’s so sweet, baby, prepare. I’m gonna be eating you a lot.”
I shivered again.
“Okay, Boone.”
He nipped my earlobe.
A reward.
And I shivered yet again.
He ran his mouth around the front of my throat, up my jaw, to my lips, but he didn’t kiss me.
He looked into my eyes, I looked into his, liking the sated contentment I saw there, as he said against my lips, “Love the way you take a solid fucking.”
Yeah.
A dirty-talker.
How did I get so lucky?
“I aim to please,” I mumbled.
I watched his eyes smile as I felt the same against my lips.
Then he said, “You’re gonna be takin’ that a lot too, sweetheart.”
“No complaints here.”
He chuckled.
Then he kissed me.
This wasn’t hard.
But it was wet and deep.
And sweet.
He ended it and pulled out, dipped to kiss my collarbone and then lifted his head over mine again and said, “Clean you up, then breakfast.”
I couldn’t help it.
I shivered again.
Most Doms, at least the good ones, were caretakers.
They looked after their toys.
And that was the only kind I liked.
Good to know Boone was that.
And he took care of me, exiting the bed, adjusting his shorts, lifting me off the bed and putting me to my feet (doing it sliding me along his tall, hard body, a nice touch).
He then took my hand and guided me to the bathroom.
He cleaned me.
He kissed me.
And then he handed me my toothbrush, loaded with paste.
I didn’t know if that last was a Dom thing, or a Boone thing.
But I was thinking it might be one and the same.
And I liked it all.
“Thanks, Boone,” I said.
He touched his lips to mine.
Then he turned on the faucet, bent over it and splashed water on his face.
And we were back.
And I was thinking we were that but stronger.
We hadn’t fucked it up.
We’d worked it out.
And now we were together again, in my bathroom.
Thank God.
Chapter Fifteen
A Knight’s Vow
Ryn
I set the plate of food I’d just prepared in front of Boone.
He looked at it.
He looked at me.
And at the expression on his face, I burst out laughing.
When I was finished, I told him, “That’s actually pretty good. Usually, I burn the hash browns.”
He indicated the plate with his long-fingered (thank you, God), strong-fingered (seriously, thank you, God) hand and asked, “Those aren’t burned?”
“They’re crispy.”
Boone grinned at me, but did it shaking his head, before he picked up his plate and fork.
He didn’t tuck in right away.
He said, “How about I take breakfast duty?”
At his words, I experienced an out-of-bed shiver.
I did because this was it.
If we didn’t fuck it up (totally), this was going to be us.
Boone on breakfast duty.
Boone loading my toothbrush (maybe).
Me burning the hash browns.
And being a smartass.
And his sweet little fuck (and yeah, that caused another shiver).
Also Boone picking up a plate of food I made him in order to eat it, even if, yeah, maybe the hash browns were a tad bit more than crispy.
This after I made him food, even though that wasn’t my favorite thing to do.
Us fighting.
It getting ugly (maybe).
Us understanding we wanted this badly enough, we’d find a way to make up, even if the path to that wasn’t pretty.
Just…
Us.
This was going to be us.
An us that was what I’d been scared about having.
No, terrified.
Because this was proving to be me—maybe, possibly, if I didn’t fuck it up (again)—getting all I’d ever really wanted.
At least when it came to a man.
In truth, it had always been really simple.
Just a good guy who got me.
All of me.
And liked what he got.
“Mom was busy, so I taught myself how to cook,” I told him after he forked up some eggs.
He didn’t eat them.
His expression changed.
I understood the change.
“Please,” I whispered, “nothing heavy. I need a break from heavy. I loved what you did to me this morning. I loved that you came to work things out last night. I love that you’re in my kitchen with me right now. Give me that. Just the goodness. Just for a little while, honey. Okay?”
“Okay, Rynnie,” he murmured, his eyes still locked to me, telling me he was giving me that, but only for a little while, then he shoved the eggs in his mouth.
“Good?” I asked, after he swallowed.
“Yeah,” he lied.
I grinned at him. “You are such a liar.”
He grinned back and me.
And then kept eating.
“Fair warning, Master mine,” I said, reaching out to take up my own plate. “I’m not into experimenting with spices and cruising the Internet for the best roasted chicken recipes…”
I trailed off because of the new look on his face.
“What?” I asked after that look
“Get over here,” he demanded.
At his tone, and the look, I walked the two steps we were separated in my kitchen.
He put his plate on the counter, lifted his hands and caught me on either side of my head.
I stared into his eyes.
They were heated.
Not in a bad way, like he was pissed.
In a good way.
A really good one.
Oh boy.
“What’d you just call me?” he asked softly.
“Uh…” I mumbled, mostly because I remembered what I called him, I was just not counting on his reaction, or my reaction to his reaction, both of which were strong.
“I’m that, baby, you get me?” he asked.
Oh, you could say I definitely got him after that morning.
Got him good.
In a number of ways.
I nodded.
“You want that to filter into our life?” he asked.
I didn’t understand the question because I thought it already was part of our lives since it was an integral part of who we were.
“Uh…” I repeated.
“Rynnie, if I told you to get on your knees right now and suck my cock while I ate breakfast, would you be down with that?”
I grasped his waist mostly to hold myself up because my legs were in danger of buckling.
His
eyes got lazy.
My knees got weaker.
“Yeah, you’d be down with that,” he whispered in a wicked, awesome, totally sexy way.
And I swayed into him because my knees were even weaker.
He shifted a hand so his thumb stroked across my cheek.
But then he went on to rub it against my mouth. He did this relatively hard, and I felt it in a way, even after his touch was gone, I knew I’d keep feeling it.
Another stake claimed.
“We’ll play like that, baby,” he said quietly. “You aren’t feelin’ it or aren’t in the mood, we’ll have a word for that too. Yeah?”
I nodded.
“You wanna suck my cock?” he asked.
I wanted him to tell me to suck his cock.
I didn’t answer.
“Good girl,” he muttered, watching his thumb at my lips, and my pussy spasmed.
I did right.
His eyes came to mine and his thumb moved away.
“We’ll have a session tonight, Rynnie,” he said gently. “At my place. Work you over good. See what you can take. Can you wait for that?”
I nodded again.
“Good girl,” he growled those words this time, bent his head, kissed me in a way that now not only my lips were staked as his, my entire mouth was.
When he broke the kiss, he didn’t break the connection when he asked a question that, if any other Dom asked it, I’d think he lacked originality.
Boone asked it, I had a bigger, stronger pussy spasm and I couldn’t wait to answer.
“Who’s your Master?”
“You, Boone.”
“Yeah, baby.” He took his hands from me, turned to his plate and ordered, “Eat your breakfast.”
I did as told, and I did it liking that there was now a sexual component to something like that, liking that this was going to be a part of our lives, making even mundane stuff more intimate, even thrilling.
We ate.
We did the dishes together.
Mo came over because he was day duty seeing as Boone was on something for Hawk that he couldn’t take that for me.
Which reminded me of something that somehow in all the brouhaha with Boone I’d completely forgotten.
So I asked about it after Boone and I finished making out at the door (and just to say, I was beside-myself happy we had that back too).
“We haven’t talked about what’s going down with Brett.”
“Tonight, Ryn. Before I work you. Or tomorrow morning, after I work you.”
I forgot entirely what we were discussing.
All I could think about was Boone “working me” and how much I liked how he referred to it like that.
He knew I was thinking that. I knew he knew it when his eyes got lazy again and he instigated another makeout session.
Sadly, he had to end it and our days had to begin.
So that was what we did.
But for me, I did it not only because I had no choice.
But because it would bring me closer to having him back that night.
* * *
Later that morning, I was in a massive flooring warehouse with Mo, Hound and Joker when Boone called me, interrupting Hound and Joker having what I thought was a hilarious argument over the tile for the guest bathroom floor.
It was hilarious because I would never have guessed Hound even knew bathroom floors were tiled. He went in, he did his business, he walked out, and his environs mattered not, in a bathroom…or anywhere.
But Hound definitely had a vision for my house.
At least he did for the guest bathroom.
One that clashed with Joker’s vision.
So I walked away (not far away, because the minute I shifted, three pairs of male eyes shot to me) to take the call.
“Hey, Boone,” I greeted, ready to launch in about Hound, Joker and the bad news that the subflooring was going to have to be pulled up in most of the house because the cat stink had sunk into it, but the good news was, we were getting on that and the plumber’s quote wouldn’t mean I was looking for a buyer for one of my kidneys.
“Why didn’t you tell me how the guys were treating you?”
I blinked at stacks of tall boards displaying tile options.
“Sorry?”
“Lottie called and told me that Mo called her and told her that you and I got our shit together, so now I had to tell the boys to get their heads out of their asses and stay out of our shit when it turns to shit because it isn’t their business. And she’s right. Really fuckin’ right,” Boone said, and he said it really fucking unhappily. “Why didn’t you tell me the guys were acting like assholes?”
“Well, uh, they were doing it first, because they’re loyal to you, and although I wasn’t a big fan, I got it and I was glad you had that. And second, they were doing it while protecting me so I thought that might be a bit rude.”
“You should have told me.”
“We kinda were focused on discussing other things,” I reminded him.
“And after we did that, you should have told me.”
“Boone, honey, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“No one acts like an asshole to you,” he decreed.
I sucked in breath.
“Do you hear me, Ryn?” he demanded.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“Not even one of my brothers. Yeah?”
“Yeah, Boone,” I said placatingly. “But listen to me, before you get angry at them, I’m just going to point out that you’re not the girls’ favorite person either. Or you weren’t, until I made the round of texts this morning that all was good again. But that’s what friends do. They take your side. Then they go back to all good when it’s all good.”
“Yeah, but none of your girls acted like bitches to me,” he returned.
“You haven’t been around them.”
“I had dinner out with Mag and Evie the night before last.”
Oh.
Evie hadn’t shared that, I knew why (I’d do the same), and I got why she protected me from that.
“And Evie was totally cool,” he went on.
“Evie’s kinda more mature than all of us. And there’s the small fact she’s a genius. Like, a certifiable one.”
“Babe,” he bit.
I shut up.
Man, this really bothered him.
He didn’t make me wait to understand why.
“You suck it up and move on,” he stated. “Your dad takes off on you, your mom’s gotta provide for you, you gotta eat, you teach yourself how to cook. Your brother falls down on the job, his woman does the same, you step in and look after two kids who are not your responsibility. You get kidnapped, you shake it off and go back to work. You get kidnapped again, you make fuckin’ friends with your kidnapper. With me, Ryn, you do not suck it up and move on. Nothin’ about me. We’re gonna fight. We’re gonna hit tough spots where it’ll be hard to see how we’re gonna find our way. But that’s ours. Nothin’ ancillary to me is going to be something you gotta suck up, put up with it and then move on.”
“Boone, seriously, that’s so sweet but that’d be impossible for you to achieve.”
“Well, I’m gonna fuckin’ try.”
There was the knight’s vow.
My heart started hammering.
“And one thing I know,” he kept going, “my boys are not gonna be dicks to you.”
I thought it best just to say, “Okay, baby.”
“Okay,” he gritted out.
“Are you gonna be all right?” I asked.
“I will be after I talk to Axl, Aug and Mag.”
Hmm.
“Okay,” I said. “Though, just so you know, seeing as I was there so I know more than Lottie, but Mag just kinda avoided me. He wasn’t a dick. He just wasn’t as sweet as he usually is.”
“That’s being a dick.”
Okay.
Right.
Moving on.
“And Auggie got Chaos involved with my house
because he’s that good of a guy deep down inside, he couldn’t watch me tackle that huge project alone. And I’m at a flooring store with Mo, Hound and Joker, and they might get their knives out in a second, they’re so deep in the throes of getting the other to agree to a guest bathroom vision. But this is because of Auggie, as well as the fact that I’ve got a month’s worth of work I could do by myself done on the house in three days.”
I thought humor might get through with him.
It did not.
I knew this when he said, “So it was Axl who was the biggest dick.”
Uh, mostly, yeah.
I did not say that.
I said, “He wasn’t an overt dick.”
“He’s gagging for Hattie. He wants in there so bad, it’s fucking with his head. You and me fighting proved to him what he’s trying to convince himself of. It isn’t worth the risk. He still wants her, and like I said, wants her bad. And so it’s doubly uncool he took his shit out on you.”
“He wants Hattie bad?” I asked.
“Babe, yeah. He can barely see straight when he’s around her.”
“Then why doesn’t he just ask her out?”
Um…again.
She was pulling a me.
He asked, she shot him down.
But she was doing it because she was super shy, and he was super gorgeous, and as seemed to be a theme for the Dream Team, she had daddy issues.
So he had to put in the work.
“That’s not mine to give you,” Boone told me.
Oh, he was going to give it to me, all right.
Because Hattie wanted Axl bad.
And Hattie was my girl.
So that was going to happen.
I decided it was best for now to move us away from that.
So I asked, “Are you out of the danger zone?”
“Yeah.”
Excellent.
Still.
“Keep hold of some of that aggression, baby,” I purred. “You got a woman who’s all in to help you work it out.”
“Brat,” he replied, but his tone was a lot lighter. And I knew he was over it when he said, “Don’t let Hound win that fight about the tile, Rynnie. I’ve been over to his and Keely’s house more than once. And every time, it takes me half an hour to fight getting dizzy before I get used to it.”
I suspected this, considering what I’d seen of Hound’s vision.
“Thanks for the inside advice.”
“Anytime. But just to say, it’s your house, so you pick what you want.”
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