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It made me feel confident, cared for, and cherished. Submitting to Bennett in bed somehow gave me everything I’d always wanted.

And if that were the case, was it possible that I could have more than I’d ever dreamed of?

I shook the question out of my head, used the restroom and washed my hands.

I opened the door to leave the restroom and walked straight into a massive wall of muscle. Arms immediately enveloped me and pushed me back inside.

“What’s wrong?” Bennett asked, closed the door behind us.

The bathroom was a small half-bath and in that one quick move, he’d effectively pinned me against the wall and in his embrace.

My heart pounded from the surprise of his appearance, and the beautiful scent of his cologne.

Good grief, every time I was around Bennett he muddled my senses. I didn’t hate it the way I used to.

Leaning into him, I set my forehead on his chest but didn’t speak.

“Are you upset about our conversation? You’ve been quiet all evening.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Then what is it?” He cupped my chin with his hand and tilted my head back. “What has you so worked up?”

“I was thinking.”

“And you thought too much, too hard, and became overwhelmed. Don’t get inside your head, honey. Talk to me.”

I blurted it before I could stop myself. “I was thinking about what you said in the car. About how if I wanted to watch or experience anything, you’d set it up.”

His fingers flinched on my chin. “And?”

“Well.” I steeled myself for his reaction. My voice was barely audible as I said, “Miranda and Shawn have a playroom upstairs. So I was wondering—”

“Who do you want to watch? Them or Simon and Chloe.”

“Not Miranda. I know them too well.”

Had I really just said that? Was I asking for this? Everything was happening so quickly my mind spun. Bennett wasn’t giving me time to think, which was probably his plan.

“Where is Miranda’s room?” he asked. His eyes were intense and dilated. Every breath he took forced out his chest.

“Upstairs,” I croaked.

“Go there.”

“Bennett.” I covered his hand with mine. “I don’t know—”

“I do. You want it and you’re trying to talk yourself out of it. You might not even want it, but you’re curious. So you’re going to give in to it. You don’t like it, we stop it. We leave. We go back to my place, or your house for the night and don’t speak of it again. Give this a chance, Rebecca. You won’t know until you try.”

“Damn it.” I couldn’t pull my gaze off him. I stared into his brown eyes, the seriousness stamped in his features. He’d do this for me.

He’d do anything for me. He’d give me this not because he wanted it or needed it, but because I asked.

I loved him for it.

The realization struck me and I stepped back.

Love? I couldn’t. I didn’t. It was too soon and too crazy and holy shit, I was going insane.