Series: Lee Savino
Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
He scoots closer, so our thighs are touching, and takes my hand. He’s touching me more and more, and I love it.
What’s more, I need it.
“You could never do that. I’m honored you’re sharing with me.”
I brush at my eyes. I’m not crying, just…a little emotional. “I’m sure patients do that a lot. Dump on you,” I say briskly.
“Not really. I think I intimidate people. That’s why I wear glasses–they remind me to put on my bedside manner.”
“I was wondering what happened to your glasses. They’re not prescription?”
“No, they’re props.”
I let out a chuff of laughter and imagine him putting on his glasses before entering a patient’s room. “Like Clark Kent. You’re Superman.”
Shaking his head, he pulls me up and leads me out to the pool, effectively avoiding the subject.
But I don’t drop it. Once I get in the pool, I swim around a bit. The water must be heated, and the winter sun is warm in Las Vegas, so it feels nice.
Matthias does a few laps, and I get to watch his giant body move sleekly through the water, fast as an Olympic athlete. Eventually he resurfaces, shakes the water out of his face, and finds a spot near me to lounge.
“You are like Superman, you know,” I tell him.“You came to my rescue. As soon as I saw you in that hotel room, I knew I was safe.”
“You are safe,” he says. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”
“You slept beside me last night.”
He looks away. “I wasn’t going to let you out of my sight. I shouldn’t have–”
“No, I’m glad.” I swim close to him.
A muscle jerks in his cheek. He doesn’t lean away from me, but his whole body is tense. “I’m too old for you.”
I blink. Is he trying to shut me down? But no–I know he’s attracted to me. He wouldn’t have kissed me the way he did if he didn’t feel the same way I do.
“I don’t care how old you are. I wanted to go on a date with you.” I take a risk and keep sharing. “I never thought in a million years I’d get to. But on this year’s New Year’s resolutions I wrote “go on a date,” and I imagined going with you. I know you might not feel that way about me–”
“I do,” he interrupts. For some reason, he looks unhappy about it, though. Instead of us both rejoicing that we’re mutually interested, he’s acting like it’s a problem.
“Maisy, like I said last night, I want you.”
“Oh. That’s…good, right?”
“No.”
I wait, but he doesn’t go on.
“It’s good,” I insist.
That muscle in his jaw works again. “I’m too ol–”
“You’re not too old for me.”
“I play rough in bed. I’m a bear, Maisy. You’re human. You’re young and innocent. Fuck, you’d never been kissed before last night.”
Hurt lances through my chest. Still, I cling to his admission like I did last night–he wants me.
I want him, too. I just have to convince him I’m not as young and innocent as he thinks I am.
“I know you’re used to women who are more experienced, but–”
“It’s not that,” he cuts in. “Maisy, I’m dangerous.”
I lift my chin. “Not to me.”
“Especially to you.”
I think about the past twelve hours. How he’s taken charge. Protected me at all costs.
Back in Bad Bear, he’s friendly but guarded. What he told me about wearing fake glasses makes me think he’s playing a role. And not to manipulate anyone but to protect us. Even around his family, he’s always holding something back. Always in control.
What would it be like to make him lose control?
These are bad girl thoughts, but… I want to be a bad girl. I almost died for frick’s sake. Isn’t it time I ask for what I want?
Instead of asking, I reach out and brush some water droplets off of his shoulder. The muscle bulges under my palm. “You don’t scare me.”
“Careful,” he rumbles. “I bite.” He flashes a quick grin, showing white teeth. His canines look a bit longer than usual. Is that his bear?
“You won’t hurt me.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
I think about the spank he gave me. The way he pinched my nipple. Is that the kind of hurt he means?
“Maybe I want…that.” I slide my hands down his sides to rest on his hips. I’m being bold.
“What do you want?”
I lick my lips.
He stares at them like he wants to kiss me again.
Why have we wasted so much time not kissing?
I rise to tiptoe. He’s so much taller than me–broader, everything, I have to pull him down to meet me, but he leans down willingly.
“I want you to be my first,” I whisper against his lips.
His breath gusts against my mouth, and then he hauls me up in his arms, and we kiss like we need the air in each other’s lungs to survive.