I was happy. Deliriously so. And if it was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.
~
“How’s domestication treating you?” Megan asked. Her anger had ebbed over the last couple of weeks when she’d put the check from Adam to good use. She was living it up and I was happy because she had seemed a little down lately.
“Pretty good. How’s staying with Brian?”
“I’ve only stayed there a couple of nights.” Megan looked down. She and Brian had been together a lot longer than Adam and I, yet he’d made no move to take their relationship to the next level.
“You okay?” I asked.
Her head snapped up and she waved away whatever sad thoughts had obviously been churning. “I’m great. I took a peek at our apartment the other day—state-of-the-art alarm system, new fixtures and appliances. It’s looking really good.”
I liked that Adam had left me the choice to move back, though secretly, I didn’t think it was a choice. He had been doing his damnedest to convince me to stay with him permanently. And I just might be caving.
“So, you were saying that Mr. Moneybags has a birthday tomorrow, right?”
I nodded.
“What are you supposed to get a man who has everything?”
I groaned. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Well, did you ask him?”
I smiled. “Yeah. He said for his birthday, he wanted me.”
Megan rolled her eyes. “I don’t know exactly what to make of you two, but it kind of grosses me out.” She winked at me. “Besides, he already has you.”
Yes, he did, but I knew what he was really getting at. He wanted total control. No more running or questioning. Giving myself over to him would require my soul.
He made me feel beautiful. Cherished. And completely crazy. When was the last time someone had told Adam how amazing he was? I did my best to tell him, show him, every day, the same way he showed me.
An idea hit me.
Adam wanted my heart for his birthday? He just might get it.
Chapter Eighteen
“Good morning, birthday boy,” I whispered, and kissed his lips.
He smiled. He was doing more of that lately and I never tired of the sight.
“Best birthday ever,” he said, cupping my ass. He rolled me over and parted my thighs with his knees.
“No, wait, you have to open your present first.”
He frowned down at me. “Aren’t you my present?”
I laughed like a fool, but the man made me so damn giddy sometimes. “Of course, but there’s more.”
We had dinner reservations tonight, but I couldn’t wait to give him his gift. I moved him to a sitting position on the bed. I was in one of his shirts and it glided around me when I reached under the bed and brought up his present.
“Happy birthday, Adam.”
He looked at me as he untied the ribbon. The tissue paper fell away, leaving him with a mason jar in his hands.
He examined it. “What’s it filled with?”
“Open it and find out.”
He did, and when he reached in, he pulled out one of the hundreds of small red paper hearts I had cut out.
He looked at the paper. His eyes darkened to a fierce blue.
“See, each heart has a different reason I love you written on it—” My voice cracked. I was so nervous.
His eyes shot to mine.
“I love you, Adam. Everything I am…my heart, my trust…it’s yours.”
Shock marred his perfect face. I could see the boy beneath the man. The one who looked wary of such a declaration, but who really wanted to believe it.
“Don’t say things you can’t take back,” he rasped, his hands tightening around the jar.
My heart broke a little because he looked like he was clutching something he wanted, but didn’t know for certain if it was real. I recognized this, because I’d felt it. I had grown accustomed to the bottom falling out, but Adam had changed that. I wanted to be the same anchor for him that he was for me.
I ran my fingers through his hair. “I mean it, Adam. I love you so much. In a way I have never, or will ever, love another.”
He dropped the jar and it gently bounced on the mattress. He cupped my face in his palms and pulled my mouth to his. His kiss was urgent, seeking, but sweetly slow and filled with intensity. He laid me back. The jar tipped and rolled, scattering little paper hearts over the sheets.
He kept kissing me, the wildness building. He snagged my lip between his teeth and plunged his tongue inside to take a deep taste. I wound my fingers into his hair and pulled him closer. My shirt was riding up, leaving my lower half exposed.
Through his pajama pants, I felt his hard shaft press against me. Seeking. Demanding. I hooked my feet on the waistband of his bottoms and worked them down his legs and off. He lowered himself over me. With his weight on his forearms, he skimmed his hands along my temples and looked down at me.