Page 87 of Up in a Blaze
His jaw clenched, fingers slightly grazing over my sore cheek. “I should,” he grumped.
“I will let you.”
“Let me?”
“Oui. I will allow it because I know how scared you would have been. I would be the same if it had been you.” I had been the same when he was in Los Angeles, ready to take on the bad people.
His thumb brushed over my sore cheek. “They had their hands on you. They fuckin’ hurt you.”
“I know, mon amour.”
“No one touches you but me.”
Pouting, I said, “Can I at least hug the boys? They need our love, my beast.”
He grunted. “I know.”
“They hardly had anything in the apartment to pack.”
He nodded.
“I want to take them shopping. They’ll need other things at Loyal’s, and we must get everything for them.”
“We will.”
“You are not angry I have invited them to live?—”
“No,” he clipped. “Fuckin’ never. You have a big heart, Henri, and you should share it with those boys. They need your type of loving.”
“And yours. You’ll make them feel safe.”
Another grunt.
“Do you think Sawyer will be okay at Loyal’s?”
“He’s shy with the brother, but for Arlo, he’ll get by. I’ll start looking for places close to Arlo’s school and the Playhouse. We’ll find something and put a rush on the sale, offer them more money. They’ll be with us soon and then they can start living like they’re supposed to.”
Lifting to my toes, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. His mouth opened under mine, and the kiss deepened. His teeth teased over my bottom lip before he sucked on it. My cock thickened under my pants.
This man made me fall in love with him every day.
He made me giddily happy, like I was flying.
He kissed down to my chin where he nipped. “Shower,” he ordered before stepping away from me to remove his clothes. As I watched him, I took my own off and waited until he had the temperature perfect.
He held his hand out to me, and together, we stepped into the shower. He was the first to reach for the bodywash, so he assisted me and then I him. We made quick work of our hair and then shut off the water, moving out to get dry.
As I ran the towel over my hair, I admired my man bending and stretching as he finished. When he caught me staring, his brow rose.
“Bed, firecracker.”
“Mon amour?—”
“You’re tired. You need to rest and then your ass will be mine in the morning.”
“Promise?”
“Damn right.”
