Page 107 of The Fire We Crave

“You don’t have to do this, if you don’t feel up to it,” Smoke says that evening when he pulls a crisp navy T-shirt over his head.

“You almost sound like you don’t want me to,” I say as I stand, confused, in front of my wardrobe.

He steps behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and stooping to rest his chin on my shoulder. “I’m just worried about you. Melody’s arrival was a shock for you. What she said was…a lot.”

A lotdoesn’t even begin to describe the feelings I’ve shuffled through over the course of the day.

Kinsey insisted on covering at the bakery. And Smoke behaved like…well, a boyfriend. He went to the diner and got Margie to pack us up some of her chicken noodle soup, stacked BLTs, and salty fries.

Then, he went down to the bakery two hours later to get us chocolate cake from Kinsey.

“It’s gonna involve some ribbing, I would imagine. The guys are probably gonna give me shit, turning up with a woman. There are some brothers from out of town expecting a party,come in to give us some extra support. We should definitely do it at some point, but it doesn’t need to happen today if you’re feeling low.”

I sigh. “No, I think the distraction would be good and healthy. But my favorite dresses are all over at your place.”

“What makes them your favorites?”

“They make me feel good. And they fit well. I like ‘em best.”

Smoke places a chaste kiss to my neck, then stands up straight. “I’m gonna choose, and you’re going to wear it.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

Smoke looks confused. “Why would it be in your closet if you don’t like it?”

“Oh, you clearly don’t know women. We have the clothes we bought when we were skinnier. And the clothes we bought when we were bigger. And we don’t get rid of either, because we’re constantly changing size and shape. And then there’s the clothes we bought on a whim, when we were down, or when everyone else was wearing it. And it cost too much to throw out or give away, so it sits in your closet staring at you, begging you to wear it, but it’s not even your tenth or twentieth pick because you really want to wear the super-soft faded clothes you bought ten years ago. Even though they have holes. And don’t get me started on the sweaters that itch around your neck and make you want to tear the thing off by midafternoon.”

Smoke looks at me like I just grew a second head. “What? You keep clothes that don’t fit?”

“Yes,” I say, exasperated. “Because you never know when theymightfit.”

He reaches into the closet and pulls out a denim dress I like, rather than love.

“Sugar,” he says, pulling it off the hanger. “Clothes should never shame you. You don’t love them, they don’t fit right, you toss them.” He slides the dress over my head and wiggles myarms through it. “And for the record, you could wear a sack and still look beautiful.”

He rummages in the bottom of my closet and pulls out a well-worn pair of cowboy boots in a tan leather. “Now, let me put these on,” he says. “You need socks.”

I grab a pair and pass them to him before he playfully pushes me down onto the bed. “Sit.”

He kneels in front of me, then places my left foot right over his dick, before winking at me. Gently, he lifts my right foot and kisses and bites my right toe until I flop back onto the bed. “You have the cutest fucking feet. Anyone ever tell you that? You could make a fortune selling feet pics.”

I lift onto my elbows so I can watch. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Smoke’s eyes darken. “Anything.”

“I think I’ve always had a…thing. For being watched. I don’t know how far it goes. I don’t think I’m an all-out exhibitionist who would like to go to a sex party and be watched by everybody. But being seen on some level doesn’t scare me. So, when I’ve considered what I might do if I wasn’t tethered here, I’ve considered one of those adult accounts making feet videos in the past.”

Smoke runs his tongue up the sole of my foot. “Then, I’m going to figure out how to make that work for you so you can try it, in baby steps. You could start with making them for me, first. Use my name in them to practice. Would that make you happy?”

“Yes.” It requires no thought to answer. Because I trust him.

“Good girl.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Feet pics and videos? No. I’d even help you make ‘em. Gives me a reason to put my hands on them.”

I smile at that. “There are more things I think I’d like to try between you and me. Could we go through the list you talked about the other night?”

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