Out of Love(41)

I nodded, tossing the towel aside, no longer feeling blood trickling out of my nose. “An actuary, huh?”

“Yes.” She lifted onto her toes and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Forgive me? Can I kiss it? Lick your wound?”

My hands slid around her back, finding their favorite place on her ass. “You can lick something, but it’s not my nose.”

White teeth peeked out from her red lips as she ran her tongue along the bottom one in anticipation of my mouth on hers. “I have a curfew. If you need something licked, we’d better get to it.”

“A curfew?” I lifted her like a monkey hugging my body and headed toward the stairs.

“Yeah. Dad said since we’re sharing a hotel room he expects a little courtesy.”

“What time?” I bit her lower lip and sucked it into my mouth as we reached the top of the stairs.

“Ten.”

Depositing her on my bed, I grabbed her wrist and read the time on her watch. “It’s eight thirty.” Her nose wrinkled like it did whenever she assumed I was upset.

“Sorry. It’s my life for the week. He retrieved my schoolwork from that mystical cloud. I owe him ten o’clock.”

“Fine.” I unbuttoned my pants.

“Will you tie me to your bed?” She shrugged off her shirt.

I paused my hands, certain I didn’t hear her correctly.

She shimmied out of her shorts and panties then reached around to unhook her bra. “Jessica said that after her incident she had some serious issues with being restrained, and it fed her need for control, which ended up making her emotionally fucked-up. So … she said if I’m ever in a healthy, trusting sexual relationship, it might be a good idea to practice staying calm while being restrained.” Walking on her knees to the edge of the bed, she pushed my shirt up, kissing my chest while I pulled it the rest of the way off with a bit of hesitation.

“Yeah …” My hands pressed to her cheeks, forcing her to look up at me before they disappeared into her hair. “If you find a healthy, trusting sexual relationship … you should definitely practice staying calm while being restrained.”

“Wylder …” Her fingers eased down my abs, one bump at a time.

“I’m not him, Livy.”

Her gaze dropped as she deflated.

“I’ll tie you up, but you shouldn’t trust me in that way.”

“Why?” she whispered as the weight of her disappointment kept her chin tipped toward her chest—along with me … the anchor that threatened to pull her to the bottom of the ocean.

Drowning her dreams.

Obliterating her hope.

Suffocating her existence.

“I’m not a trusting-relationship guy.”

She shook her head. “You saved me.”

“I killed a man to do it.”

“Because you love me.” The gold flecks in her deep brown eyes shined when she lifted her gaze to mine.

“Because it’s …” I stopped short of the truth.

I could protect her.

I could fuck her.

I could be her illusion.

But I couldn’t tell her the truth. It wasn’t my job to tell her the truth.

“It’s what?” Her fingers teased the palms of my hands hanging limp at my sides.

With a smile that felt sad but completely real, I interlaced our fingers and guided our hands behind her back. Her chest pressed into my stomach as her head fell back. “It’s fucked-up, Liv,” I whispered, my mouth descending upon hers. “It’s my job to make sure no one ever ties you up,” I murmured a breath away before kissing her.





Chapter Seventeen




Livy


“Say something romantic.” I grinned, shimmying back into my shorts as Wylder stared at me from the bed—white sheet tangled around his legs and midsection, head propped up on his arm.

“Wrong guy.” He shook his head like I should have known better.

No tying up.

No whispered words to make my heart swoon.

I twisted my lips to hide my frown. “Fine. What are you thinking right now?”

“Nothing romantic.”

With a slight roll of my eyes, I grumbled, “Just tell me.”

“I don’t know. A couple things are playing around in my head at the moment.”

“And they are?” I finished hooking my bra and pulled my tank top over my head.

Scratching his chin, he smirked. Wylder with a mischievous grin and naked in bed … it had to be a dream. I’d had many dreams about him long before he offered me the slightest act of kindness.

“I’m thinking about the rest of the pizza downstairs.”

I laughed. “And?”

“And I think after you get settled and your dad goes home, we should see if you’re really as good at surfing as you say you are.”

There was no way I could have predicted that. I shoved my shoulders back and plastered a confident, maybe even a little cheesy, grin on my face. “Oh, Wylder … the only thing I’m better at than sex is surfing.”

On a throaty chuckle, he sat up and pulled on his jeans sans underwear. “Interesting comparison.”

“Sex and surf are life.” I checked my watch and hustled my ass down the stairs with twenty minutes to get back to the hotel. “When are you going to tell me what you’re building in the garage? Or where your family lives? Or your favorite dessert? Basically anything?” I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my phone and keys from the counter.