Page 98 of Saving Ren

“And am I not your man?”

The smile has gone from both of our faces, and I decide to just put it out there and be done with the not knowing.

“You tell me?” I ask.

“Is your arse not in this bed, your clothes not in that walk-in, your girlie shit in the shower?”

I take note of the way he called itthisbed and nothisbed and nod slowly.

“All of those things are in all of those places, yes.”

With a flick of his wrist, what’s left of his slice of toast lands on the tray, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“My dick not inside you at least once a day?”

“It is.”

“Do we not stay up half the night talking shit once we’ve done fucking?”

“We do.”

“Are we not lying on sheets you washed? Do I not come home from work every evening to a dinner you cook?”

“We are and you mostly do, yes.”

“Despite the fact you’re still married, arewenot together?” He uses air quotes when he says the word ‘together.’

“We are,” I agree without hesitation.

“Tell me then, what part of all of that says that I am anything,anyfuckingthingother thanyourman, Ren?”

I’ve never known his voice so quiet and intense. His dark brows are drawn down low making the blue of his eyes pop more than usual.

“You’ve never said it though, you’ve never told me what. . .”

“You need a label?” he interrupts. His voice rising in pitch.

“Not a label as such. Reassurance, maybe?”

“You don’tknow? You don’talreadyknow?”

I shake my head. “I’m insecure and needy, remember?”

Setting his mug down on the tray, he takes mine out of my hand and does the same, then moves the tray to the floor.

I’m taken totally by surprise when he turns, grabs my ankles, and pulls me across the bed towards him.

He’s on top of me in a second. My legs do what they have a habit of doing when in his presence, and they spread. . . wide! His hips grind against mine, his hard dick presses into me.

“You need me to spell it out, put into words what you mean to me? What I hope we are to each other? Because if you do, Little Bird, then I need to hear it right back. I need you to useyourwords and tell me exactly what I am and what I mean to you.”

He looks down at me, his elbows bent at the side of my head, taking the weight of his body, except his hips, which are expertly driving me insane as he moves them against me.

Using his thumbs, he brushes soothing strokes across my cheeks as his scent invades my senses.

“You gonna show me, Ren, or you gonna tell me first?”

I consider telling him I’m gonna combust because that’s what it feels like I’m going to do. I’m not sure if it’s arousal or menopause, but I am so fucking hot right now.