Page 109 of Trust Me Always

He scoots back first, his eyes closing with a sigh as soon as he’s settled.

I knew he was getting tired. I dig around in the blankets, searching for the remote.

“Woman. Get up here.”

“I can’t find the remote.” I flip the edge of the blanket up, looking around near his feet.

“Leave it. The next movie will play automatically.”

“I was going to turn it down so you can sleep—ah!” I cut off with a squeal when he flies up, his arm coming around me and hauling me into his chest.

He shifts slightly so he can tuck me beside him. The movement has his hand slipping along my fluffy robe. It slides through the fold where it’s tied closed, and we both freeze when a gasp leaves me.

His hand is massive, fingers reaching my ribs, the edge of his thumb frozen in the place it landed—right beneathmy nipple.

“Cameron,” he rasps, and my toes seem to curl.

“Y—” I swallow and try again. “Yeah?”

“Are you naked under this?”

“Yeah…”

Neither of us moves, and we sure as hell don’t speak.

But then Brady’s forehead falls to the side of my head, his lips right above my ear. His breath is so warm as it fans over my neck that goose bumps erupt, tickling along my flesh as they spread all over.

“Can—” he begins but says nothing else.

I can’t find any words, unsure of what’s happening here but too curious to move.

Slowly, his thumb skates higher, the textured pad a featherlike touch against the bottom curve of my nipple.

My cheeks flame when it starts to pebble from the tiny bit of attention.

His swallow echoes in my ears, and my pulse thumps in response. His thumb stretches a little higher, and he finds what he was looking for.

His muscles clench under me, fingers along my ribs twitching.

“Barbell,” he murmurs, more to himself than me. He explores the jewelry further, his thumb no longer on my breast, but I feel the slight movement of the piercing. “And…spikes?”

I chew on my inner lip, nodding.

A throaty sound leaves him, and this time, his touch is more sure, more deliberate as he presses at the little spike, his thumb dragging across my hardened nipple to the other side.

A low, pulsing need flares in my core, and my heart beats a little faster.

It’s confusing. It’s invigorating.

“Are they… Do they stay this way?” He glides his finger along the underside of my nipple.

Hard. Do they stay hard, that’s what he’s asking. My neck burns in embarrassment, because no, no, they do not.

He made them hard.

But I mean, so does the cold, so it’s not that big of a deal. Right?

He nods against my head, a soft hum in his throat that tells me I’m wrong.

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