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“I got your favorite, and I’ll let you enjoy it. Call me when you have time again.” I cursed myself for not at least getting a feel for whether or not he’d be comfortable with my help.
It became harder and harder not to force myself into his life to take care of him. I’d thought this idea had been the least intrusive. Fail.
“I’m a dick,” he said, running his finger through the frosting.
“No, I crossed a line without asking.” Leaning in to kiss him, he held up his frosting covered finger to me, instead. I groaned, wishing I could suck another part of him.
“Please don’t go.” Shane scooped up more frosting for me. “No one has ever done something like this for me, and I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t know what you expect.”
I wrapped my arms around his torso and tucked his head under my chin. “Nothing. This doesn’t come with strings attached. I wanted to do this for you, but not so you’d feel obligated to me. That’s why I think I should go. So there’s no confusion on your part.”
“Thank you,” Shane’s voice was thick with emotion. “And I’m serious that I want you to stay. I’ve been terrible, and you’ve been nothing but understanding. I don’t understand why you put up with me.”
“The truth?” I squeezed him. “I love you.”
It was as simple as that.
Chapter thirty-eight
Shane
InsteadoftellingColewith my words how much I appreciated him, I told him with my body. I grabbed the back of his neck and brought his lips to mine.
Cole’s confession hit dead center in my heart. My head was a mess, but Cole’s steadfast presence eased the tension in me. Every time he walked through the door, it felt like a piece of my heart returned.
But being a dick to him was my default mode at this point. I truly did not deserve him. He’d been my rock, and I hadn’t had the guts to tell him I appreciated him. I’d done the opposite, continually canceling on him and finding ways to meet in public so sex wasn’t an option.
My therapist thought I’d been unfairly testing Cole’s limits. Deliberately pushing him away to see if he’d leave me again. She warned me that no human can sustain repeated rejection without a reaction.
I’d force him to choose between me and his self-preservation. If he chose me, he’d be a broken shell of a man and not the man I fell in love with. She asked me when my need to punish him would be satisfied and if it was worth the risk of damaging us both.
She told me I deserved love and had to learn how to accept it. I had a severe panic attack. Sometimes the truth was harder to hear than a lie. My actions proved her point.
Cole acted like the perfect boyfriend. I had to learn how to accept he was serious about his feelings for me.
I was trying.
It was hard for me to understand Cole’s love for me.
At my therapist’s suggestion, I researched something called Top Drop. It’s when the dominant crashed and needed aftercare. They experienced feelings of being overwhelmed by their responsibility, which is exactly what happened to Cole. I carried the added guilt of not being there for him when he needed me most.
I brought nothing to this relationship except anxiety and painful memories of his past. Working at Branson Financial would keep him tied to his father and Paxton. I feared that would destroy us over time.
Unless...
I pushed away my suspicions about Branson Financial, at least Cole could never be accused of insider trading. I needed to compartmentalize and let Cole shut my brain off.
“Will you take me to bed, Daddy?” I whispered into his mouth.
Cole reacted the way I hoped when I purposely called him “daddy,” like I’d thrown gasoline on a bonfire. He lifted me and held me so close it was as if he was trying to merge us into one; I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“You know I’ll do anything you ask.” He deepened our kiss and my insides turned molten. I craved our physical connection on an elemental level. Denying our chemistry was futile. “But our playtime can’t affect your ankle.”
“Screw my ankle.” I groaned into his mouth.
“Careful, Pretty Boy, or I’ll have to punish you for not taking your health seriously.” Cole nipped at my jaw. “Besides, it’s not your ankle I want to fuck.” He laid me down on the bed as if I were fragile and immediately placed a pillow under my ankle.
“I want to suck you off,” I begged, not the least bit ashamed of the need in my voice. Earlier, Cole expressly said he didn’t want me on my knees or my leg dangling where I might hit my ankle if we lost control. I understood that, but a small part of my brain terrorized me with insecurity. “Actually, I want you to fuck my mouth until I gag. I want to swallow your dick down my throat until you come.”