Page 69 of Don't Say You're Sorry

Sighing, I walk upstairs, my limbs heavy with shame as I drag my feet. As I’m passing the bathroom on the way to my room, a hand whips out and catches the collar of my hoodie. I startle, turning my head just as Easton yanks me into the bathroom. He locks us inside and turns to face me, crowding my space, the muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes search mine. He looks murderous, and it scares the shit out of me.

I clear my throat. “What’s wrong?” I ask, dreading the answer.

His thumb brushes along my cheek, soft and gentle despite his fury.

Fuck. I love him.I love him, and the sudden revelation is so devastating I could cry.

And then I do cry.

To my absolute horror, a tear slips free and lands on his thumb.

His nostrils flare as he wipes it away. “Wait here.”

“No.” I snatch his wrist, stopping him from storming out. “Don’t. Just leave it.”

He stiffens as if restraining himself is causing him physical pain. “He made you cry.”

“I’m not crying because of him.”

His brows pinch. I think he can tell I’m telling the truth, but he doesn’t understand.

He takes a step back, and I move with him, refusing to let go of his wrist.

“Sunshine,” I whisper. “Please.”

At those two words, his shoulders deflate a little. He makes a low sound in his throat as he backs me up against the sink, his forehead against mine. “What do you need?”

I shake my head.

“The truth, Adam,” he demands. “Tell me.”

The truth. It’s selfish. Reckless. Wrong. But the answer is simple. “You.”

His lips curve into a smile as he kisses my cheek, his warm hands gripping my sides beneath my hoodie. “Good boy.”

I revel in his praise and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to mine. He gives me his tongue, and I take it greedily, my fingers in his hair.

I want to tell him what I realized just a few moments ago, but I force the words back down my throat where they belong. Now is not the time.

“I got you something,” he says between kisses.

I pout. Presents? I thought we were gonna fuck.

I tug on his bottom lip with my teeth. “But it’s not Christmas yet.”

He laughs. “Would you rather I give it to you in the morning in front of everyone?”

Judging by the devilish look in his eyes, no, I’d rather he didn’t.

Reaching for something on the counter behind me, he places a little box in my hand. The wrapping paper is black, and there’s a blue bow wrapped around it. I remove the bow and tear the paper off. It’s a pair of matching black butt plugs, but one of them is missing from the packaging. I cut my eyes up to his.

“Turn around and bend over the sink,” he says, and I obey immediately, thrumming with anticipation.

We make eye contact in the mirror as he pushes my sweats down to the tops of my thighs. He lubes my hole, and I widen my legs for him, my mouth parting in pleasure.

“Where’s the other one?” I rasp.

“Exactly where you think it is.”

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