Page 67 of Enticing the Elf
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, baby. I’m… I ache for the pain and insecurity you’ve been carrying all this time, but I can’t say I’m not a little relieved too.”
He lifts his head, his face now so close to mine. “Relieved?”
“That your hesitation isn’t about me. It’s not that you don’t want to commit tome.”
“No, but also… I didn’t trust that you weren’t like him.” His lips tremble, but he firms them almost immediately.
“That’s true,” and it stings, I can’t lie. “You acted based on past experience. That’s completely understandable—we all do it. Even at work, it’s standard in most industries to base plans on past results. It’s how you respond to live results that matters, and Dáithí, you’re apologizing to me right now and calling off the Summit of Love because you know you were wrong. That’s what’s most important.”
He puts his head back down. “Iwaswrong. I just wish I hadn’t had to put you through all this to admit it.”
Kissing his hair, I ask, “Are you still scared?”
His silence tells me what I need to know.
“It’s okay if you are, baby. I am too, a little.”
“You are?” It’s barely a whisper, and I lean my head against his.
“Yeah. There are a lot of ways either or both of us can fuck things up, or that life can. We’ve been through enough to know nothing comes with a guarantee, and it terrifies me that something might happen to you.”
Dáithí’s hand creeps up my body and cups my cheek. “But you want to do this—us—anyway?”
“More than anything.”
We sit for a moment, both breathing shakily.
“Me too.”
The weakness that overtakes me proves I wasn’t as sure of him as I thought I was, but that doesn’t matter now. I lift my head, and when he straightens to look at me, I study his face. It’s tear-streaked and flushed, but the determination and love in his eyes are balm to my soul.
“I can call you my boyfriend now?” I check.
He nods and leans forward to kiss me. “Boyfriend, partner, significant other… whatever will tell the world that we belong to each other.”
The grin that breaks out on my face is so wide, it hurts.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Dáithí
Eoin’sblatant joy prompts pangs of guilt, but I shove them aside. He’s forgiven me, and even if I never quite manage to forgive myself for what I’ve done to him, I won’t let him know. It would just make him feel bad.
We stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, kissing and just enjoying being together. It feels different now, without the emotional distance I put between us. I’d hoped the barrier would keep me from being hurt when things ended, but it never worked that way. I still fell hard for Eoin—the only thing it did was prevent us from being completely happy. That’s done now.
But if kissing Eoin feels more intense and meaningful now that I’m not trying to protect myself, what’s sex going to be like?
No time like the present to find out.
I break away from his mouth, then change my mind and go back for another nibble. He tastes better than anything, ever. But… “Get naked.”
“Huh?” He blinks at me, eyes a little dazed from all the kissing, and triumph fizzles through me. I do that to him—this powerful, respected man. I reduce him to dazed lust.
“Naked,” I repeat. “I want to fuck my boyfriend.” I untangle myself from his arms, stand, grab the hem of my T-shirt, and pull it off over my head. Eoin scrambles to his feet with gratifying speed, and by the time I’ve dropped my pants, he’s nearly caught up.
And then he drops to his knees. It’s a beautiful sight, this strong, powerful man kneeling for me, and my heart clutches in my chest.
“Kneel up on the couch,” he orders, and I frown, trying to work out those logistics. He’s tall, but not that tall. “Facing the back.”
