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“I’m not high-maintenance,” she whispers. “Saying no isn’t high-maintenance. It’s creating boundaries.”

“I respect your boundaries. I don’t need a fast fuck to be happy anymore, but it would make me happy if you got out of that damn car and stopped looking at me like you just caught me fucking her on the kitchen table. I did what may have been the first honorable thing in my time as a legal adult; I sent her away, and I told you the truth. Don’t punish me for that when we both know you came here just now to see me. You made the choice to get in your car, you drove all the way out here. You were brave enough to come to me, so don’t waste that and leave now when I was honorable.”

Silence hangs between us for the longest minute of my life while she leans against the steering wheel and stares at nothing.

I’ve never wanted to keep anyone around for longer than it takes to come, but now I’m asking her in and forfeiting sex for what may be the rest of my life. It hurts to think she’s considered never giving all of herself to me. But the thought of her walking away hurts more.

A couple weeks ago, at Jess and Kane’s wedding, that first time I censored myself and tried to slow my cussing for her; that was the first sign she wielded more power than I was willing to admit. But right here in this driveway; the lock clicks over and the revolution ends. She’s got me good, because now I’m censoring my sex drive too.

“Come inside with me, Abigail. No sex. No pressure. We can get a meal or something, and I’ll… I dunno. Jerk off in the shower or something. You can watch if you want to.”

She gives an inelegant snort and turns to me with a magnetic smile. “What am I gonna do with you, Spencer?”

“You’re gonna hang out with me.” I reach out, and push up from my crouch with a grunt. When she doesn’t release the steering wheel, I slide my hand along her thin wrist and pry her fingers free. “Come on.” I help her out and lift a brow at the bag I see on her backseat.

She came with an overnight bag, and I can’t decide if that freaks me out or makes me yearn for her to grab it. The one time a chick brought an overnight bag, I helped her back into her car and sent her home, because I wasn’t into commitments that would last more than an hour. But now I pray this woman will reach back and grab it. I want her to stay. I want her to want more.

Once she’s clear of the door, I close it with a softsnick, and though my heart breaks a little when she leaves the bag behind, it restarts again when she steps into my side and wraps her arms around my hips while we walk.

I can’t say I’ve ever done this before, either.

It’s been so long since I held her, I kinda forgot how small she is. Her head rests against my pecs. Her hipbone against my thigh. Her arms struggle to wrap all the way around me, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy the way she folds herself into my body and draws in a long breath as though she needs me almost as much as I need her.

Fuck me, I’m dead.

“I missed you this week.”

I feel her smile as we head through my front door and turn back to lock up. I don’t usually close up until I’m ready for bed, but I lock up now because I don’t particularly want to deal with drop-ins that might scare her away when I’ve finally gotten her back.

“I missed you too,” she admits on a sigh. “I was trying to ignore you.”

I chuckle and tighten my hold around her torso as I flip the lights off and move through the doorway that leads to my home. “Guess you couldn’t stay away, huh? It’s okay,” I press a kiss to the top of her head and breathe her in. “I was gonna come get you soon.”

“You were?”

I swing my door closed and lock it. “Uh-huh. I’ve been keeping busy with work and stuff, but you were pushing my limits, Priss. A man can only stay away for so long before he turns mad. I was hitting my limits.”

“Spencer?”

We stop in front of my couch. I was going to push her down to sit and probably build a pillow wall between us so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch her. I mean, I still would have touched her, but the pillows might have helped for a minute. Instead, we stop so our toes touch and her hands remain on my hips as she looks up into my eyes.

“Can I ask you something? And you have to promise to tell the truth.”

“Ugh,” I grunt. “Probably means I’m gonna get in trouble.”

She gives a small exhale of air in lieu of a laugh. But when I reach up and tuck strands of red hair behind her ear, she closes her eyes and sighs.

“Ask your question, Priss. I promise to answer truthfully.”

Her eyes remain closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She’s shielding herself from whatever my answer will be.

“Did you spend time with any woman since last weekend? At all.”

“Sex? Did I hook up with anyone?”

She squeezes her eyes closed and nods.

“No, Priss. Not one single person.” When her eyes flutter open and find mine, I smile. “I haven’t hooked up with any woman since I met you. Not once since Jessie went in for her flowers, and I met this high-maintenance princess with high-waisted jeans and not enough color in her cheeks.”


Tags: Emilia Finn Checkmate Dark