Page 105 of Zimyra

“I think she’ll be happy. She’s been wanting this for me for some time. Zavier will be okay with it, too. Zander, on the other hand, will probably lose it.”

“Why?”

“He’s taken on the role of my father. He thinks he should have a say in every decision that I make.”

“I can see that.” He takes the fork out of my hand and says, “No more cake. We have dinner downstairs in an hour.”

“Oh. Okay. I’m glad I packed some extra dresses.”

He leans close, kisses my lips, and then says, “See—everything is fine just like I knew it would be.”

“It is. Thank you for being optimistic. Sometimes, I just stress myself over nothing.”

“I know, but I’m running this show now. It’s my responsibility to shoulder all your stresses and worries. That pretty face of yours should always come with a smile.”

She smiles and says, “You’re doing an excellent job of keeping one there.”

CHAPTER 32

Lying in bed, her softcurls rest on my chest. She barely has anything on because that piece of fabric that looks like a silk scarf can hardly classify as lingerie. My heart thumps loudly. I know she can hear the fierce beats in her ear.

I want her.

I’ve been resisting the urge to make love to her, and it has been killing me, playing with my mental. She hasn’t mentioned a word about it, but she must wonder why we haven’t consummated this love we share. Maybe she’s not ready so it’s not a big deal, but maybe it is. I’m not sure.

She lifts her head and kisses my chest and says, “We’re married, Axel.”

“We are.”

“You know that’s crazy, right?”

“I know that all too well, Sunflower.”

She hums softly like she does when she’s about to fall asleep. “I love being in your arms,” she says quietly, her breath floating across my chest.

“I love having you in my arms, Myra.”

She kisses me again and then says, “I want to let you know that you don’t have to be afraid to make love to me, Ax.”

“I’m not afraid, baby.”

She sits up and asks, “Then, what is it because I know it’s something? I can feel it.”

“It’s, um…it’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”

I put my hands behind my head while lying on the pillow. Staring up at her, I say, “You know about my past with women. I’ve been transparent about that.”

“Yes, you have.”

“So, I feel like it’s a mental thing. I have developed such a pattern of sleeping with women and losing interest that, in my mind, I think that same thing will happen with you.”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you love me. Oh, and, I’m not those other women. I’m me.”

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