Haze (The Fosters of New York 2) - Page 53

"That's what is in those drawers, Isla. Those are the things I keep there, they are what I enjoy."

I lace my fingers together in front of me. "I've never done that, any of that."

He closes his eyes. "I didn't want this conversation to happen now. I would never have chosen to share these things this way, this early. "

I should say that I want to try, or at the very least, that I want to know more, but I can't. Not yet. Not when I'm uncertain that I have the internal strength to do any of it.

"Can I go home now?" I ask quietly. "I think I should go home."

"No." His voice is edged with a plea, just as his expression is. "Let's go back to bed. Let me hold you until morning. Please, Isla."

I should have stayed there, wrapped in the sheets that still held the scent of our lovemaking. If I had done that, this wouldn’t be stuck in the air between us now.

"I'll stay until morning." I reach for his hand. "I'll stay."

***

"I need you to understand something." He's on his knees next to the bed as I open my eyes after falling back asleep. "I have to explain something to you before I take you home."

I roll onto my side so I'm facing him directly. I tuck my hands next to my face. "What is it, Gabriel?"

"You have the most melodic voice I've ever heard." He brushes my hair from my forehead. "You're a good singer, aren't you?"

I smile. "I can't hold a tune. I'm a fantastic violinist though."

"The best I've ever heard." He licks his bottom lip. "I've never met anyone quite like you before."

"That's because there's only one me."

He laughs. "You have no idea how true that statement is."

"I've never met anyone like you before either." I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Last night was amazing. I've never had a night like that."

"I need to say something about what happened in my office." His voice is still sleepy. "The things I spoke of don't define my desires."

"You like them though."

"I find them arousing."

I wipe the back of my hand over my eyes, trying desperately to chase the sleep away. "The first time my boyfriend tied m

e to the bed, I was scared."

His expression softens as he traces his index finger over my chin. "Did you tell him that?"

I exhale harshly. "I did and he assured me. He got on the bed next to me. He held me close. He told me he'd take care of me and we choose a safeword together."

"Haze?"

"No. It was something else. I don't remember anymore what it was."

He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Did you use your safeword during that encounter?"

"I didn't have to." I look up and into his eyes. "He was gentle. It was a fantastic experience."

"Did he spank you?"

"Not that time, later, other times."

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance
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