Page 77 of Speechless

Henry will not stop apologizingabout the accidental furry convention. I love seeing this embarrassed side of him, constantly running his hands through his hair, down his face. It’s so endearing.

“Henry, stop apologizing! It was fun!”

“But this day was supposed to be perfect, romantic. If it wasn’t for the damn rain . . .”

I can tell how much thought he put into this. It shouldn’t surprise me considering how thoughtful he’s always been. High tea at a Wonderland-themed restaurant? Itwasromantic.

Maybe too romantic.

I keep meaning to talk to him, to tell him everything I told Adamma. And if it ever slips my mind, her constant text reminders are always there for me. The one from this morning is my favorite to date.

Adamma:

Ask him how much he’d pay you to strip. Great conversation opener and I bet his answer’s in the thousands. That’s how you know it’s real love.

I promise myself I’m going to do it. I should have on the flight. I should havebeforethe flight. I’m just too scared to end this, to end all these perfect moments we have together.

“Henry, this whole day was romantic, and I like the rain. I’m just excited to be here, in London! With you. It doesn’t matter where we go or what we do. It’s already perfect.”

He sighs, slowly takes my face in his hand and tips my chin up toward him. And then his lips are on mine. God, he kisses like a man heading to war. I feel drunk on his affection, the care with which he cradles my face, the smooth, barely there touch of his thumb tracing the line of my throat. We’re stopped in the middle of a bridge, people all around us, but I can’t stop whimpering like a baby bird. I want to feel the weight of him, all of him. I’m starving for his lips to be everywhere, just like our night at his pool.

I pull back, worried if this kiss keeps going I’ll just strip down in the middle of the street. “Want to head back to the hotel?” Henry’s eyes are wild, his lips red and swollen. He looks completely out of his mind and it might be my favorite version of him. But he shakes his head. “What?”

“Sorry, this will have to wait a little longer, love.” He kisses my nose, which is turning into another one of my favorite things. “I have one more surprise for you. And, erm, are you hungry? It’s almost dinner time.”

Hungry? Ravenous, but not for food. I think I’ve lost the ability to say no to this man, so I loop my arm through his and let him lead the way.

When I see the sign reading Tiramisu Café, which happens to be right where Henry brings us to a stop fifteen minutes later, tears threaten to spill from my eyes.

“I know it’s subjective, but I did a lot of research. This is supposed to be one of the best in London. They have sandwiches too, just in case you want a real dinner first. Are you okay? What’s wrong, Luce?” He wraps his hands around my neck, peering into my tear-drenched eyes.

“Can we get it to go?”

“Of course. How about instead of PJ’s on the couch we eat it in robes on the bed? I’ll make sure it’s extra cozy for you.” There’s a rush of emotions making a home in every corner of my body. For me, it’s always been the most simple acts that feel profound.

“That sounds perfect.”

We finishthe Tiramisu in the back of a cab, feeding each other every bite. After a short ride, we arrive at the hotel and the anticipation of getting into bed with Henry has me practically climbing him in the elevator. He carries me to our room and doesn’t let go until he lays me down on the bed. I peel off my purse and jacket, kick my shoes across the room. I’m so incredibly needy for him right now and I’m not even trying to hide it.

“Luce . . .” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, very obviouslynoton top of me like I’m hoping for.

“Kiss me. Please?” He laughs, enjoying this moment much more than he should. “Henry?”

“Sorry. It’s just nice to be on the receiving end of that. I’m usually the beggar with you.”

“Is that what you want? For me to beg? I’ll beg—”

Finally, his body hovers over mine, but in true Henry fashion he takes his sweet time. He smooths all the hair out of my face before leaning down to press his lips to me, carefully, softly. I can’t take it—this pace is making me crazy.

I grab onto his arms and flip us on our sides before reaching my hand under the back of his shirt and pressing him closer to me. His skin is so warm, his muscles hard under my touch. I hook my leg over his hip, trying to bring us as close as physics will allow.

His hand grips the back of my head as he starts to gently suck on my bottom lip. There’s a sultry humming sound coming from deep in his throat that makes my whole body tingle.

“Henry, I need—”

“I got you.” He rolls me onto my back as his hand slides up my thigh, bunching my dress at the waist. He teases the lace on my hip, twirling it between his fingers as his mouth moves to my ear.

“Care for a song?” His warm breath on my neck brings out an audible sigh and I can feel Henry’s smile.

---