Caged (Mastered, #4)(95)
Deacon kissed the top of her head, drawing strength from the fact Molly was here. Touching her, holding her, breathing her in . . . gave him the push he needed to do this. No matter how hard his heart raced. He slowly moved his hands up her back, tugging on her hair to get her to look at him. Those beautiful brown eyes locked on his and provided the courage for him to say what he needed to. Curling his right hand beneath her jaw, he whispered, “I love you.”
If he hadn’t been holding on to her jaw, it would’ve dropped.
“I never understood what that meant. Now every time I look at you, I know.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “Deacon.”
“I didn’t say it because I’m trying to manipulate you into forgiving me faster. I’m telling you because I feel it. Fuck, do I ever feel it for you. Even though I let you in more than I’ve ever let anyone else, I still held back.” He swept his thumb across her trembling lower lip. “No more holding back with you. I wanna be the man to give you everything you need. I say that and I know how goddamn selfish it sounds, because you’re so f*cking perfect and you deserve more than a broken man like me. But dammit, when I’m with you I feel . . . whole again.”
Molly was so freaking beautiful with that light glowing from within her reflecting back at him. “Was that hard to say?” she asked so softly he barely heard it.
“Terrifying.”
“I can tell. You’re shaking.”
“I spent the last five days worried that I’d lost you. I’m standing here, touching you, and I’m still freaked the f*ck out that it’s too little, too late.”
“It’s not. I hurt for you. I know that sympathy or empathy pisses you off, but I ache thinking about how closed off you’ve been when you’ve got so much to give. So much more than you’re even aware of. And that of all the people in the world you could’ve fallen for, you chose me.”
“My heart chose you, babe.”
Molly cried harder. “I’ve never had anyone love me, Deacon. I’m as scared as you are. I don’t know how to do this—how to give it back either.”
That admission floored him—which just proved they had a lot to learn about each other. “So we’re both kind of a mess, huh?”
She sniffled. “I guess that makes us a good match.”
“It makes us a perfect match.” Deacon gently wiped her tears. Then he kissed her, just a soft press of his lips to hers, more promise than passion.
“Come home with me.” He slid his hand back to run his fingers through her hair. “I need you in my bed.”
“Just to sleep?”
Fuck no. “For tonight? Yeah. If that’s what you want.”
“And then tomorrow?”
Deacon pulled her hair hard enough to get her attention and see heat flare in her eyes. “Tomorrow morning you wake up with my face between your thighs. After I make you come twice, then I’ll f*ck you as many times and in as many ways as it takes for you to believe I am the only man you’ll ever need.”
“You are that man. I just hope I’m enough for you.”
“You already are.” This time Deacon let his kiss linger. “Leave your car here and ride with me. I don’t want to be away from you for even the length of the drive.”
“I’ll leave my car at my apartment. We’ll need to stop at my place anyway so I can get my stuff.” Molly poked him in the chest when he started to argue. “And before you give me the typical Deacon you don’t need to wear clothes when you’re around me, babe, I assure you, I do need my bathroom stuff.”
She was so freakin’ cute when she got bossy. “I have bathroom stuff for you.”
Her gaze moved over his bare head. “Says the man with no hair, so he has no need for shampoo or conditioner. And I doubt you’ll let me use your razor.”
“Hilarious. But I bought you all the same shit you have in your bathroom and stocked it in mine.”
“When?”
“After you went to work I took a picture of all the makeup crap you left out on the counter and the bottles in your shower. Then I went to CVS. The chick who helped me even offered a few suggestions for other things you’d probably want.” When Molly continued to stare at him, he bristled. “What? It wasn’t like I used any of it. All that junk is still in the bags, so if you wanna return it—”
She placed her fingers over his lips. “Shut up, you sweet, babbling man—which is not something I ever thought I’d say to Deacon McConnell.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“I love that you did that for me. You pay attention to me. I’ve never had that either.” She bit her lip when it started to wobble. “Thank you.”
Molly hadn’t moved her hand, allowing him to talk, so he puckered his lips to kiss her fingers.
Her eyes softened. “So you cleaned out a drawer for me. That’s a pretty big step.”
Not as big a step as saying I love you. “I’d hire a moving company and move all your stuff into my house tonight if I could. But you’d accuse me of bein’ high-handed.”
“I’m not ready for that step.” She brushed her lips across his. “Yet. And you’re not ready for the explosion of ‘floral vomit’ that composes my stuff either.”