Page 76 of If You Claim Me

It’s my favorite part of the day.

Dredful Menace

Tell me why.

I’m drunk, and my thumbs feel like sausages, so I switch to voice-to-text, but I have to stop and start again a few times because my words are slurring.

Connor

Because I get to hold you, and you let me.

Dredful Menace

Why do you think I do that?

I hit the call icon.

She answers on the second ring. “Hi, Connor.”

I try on the nickname she’s so fond of. “Hi, Dred.”

She hums into the phone. “Say my full name, please.”

“Mildred.” I like the way it sounds better. And it makes me feel like I’m not everyone else. “Are you still on the couch?”

“I am.” She sighs, and the sound washes over me in a wave of heat. “Because you’re not here to carry me to bed.”

“You like it when I do that?”

“Mm-hmm.” Her voice is soft and breathy.

“Why?”

“Because we’re the same, both afraid to ask for what we want.”

Another soft sigh, the rustle of her blanket. I can picture her, curled up on the couch, blanket half-covering her, cheeks pink, skin warm, hair fanned over her pillow.

“What do you want, Mildred?”

“What do you want, Connor?”

I smile, because this is her way, always throwing the question back at me, proving she’s right. For once, I let my guard down and give her honesty. “I want the softness of your lips on mine. I want to know what my name sounds like when you moan it.” There’s a beat of silence. “What do you want, Mildred?”

“Ask me again when you’re home.”

I chuckle. “Good night, little menace.” Now I guess I know how she feels most of the time when I give her half answers or none at all.

“Good night, sweet villain.”

CHAPTER 20

DRED

“Where are the Babes taking you tonight?”

Connor stands in the open doorway of my “dressing room.” It’s between my private bathroom and the walk-in closet. The three-way, full-length mirror to the right of my vanity gives me an incredible view of my fiancé. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that hugs his biceps and shows off the stunning artwork that ends halfway down his forearms. He’s also petting Dewey, and it’s so sweet my teeth ache.

Obviously this makes it a challenge to focus on getting ready.