22. Roll For Trust #3
It rolls through me slowly enough that I feel every part of it, starting low and spreading until my entire body locks and then gives.
My eyes close.
Ronan says my name.
I hear him.
I come across his hand and my stomach, pulse after pulse, while something behind my ribs seems to loosen at the same time.
I don't know how long it lasts.
When I open my eyes again, Ronan is still beside me.
His hand is moving faster over himself now.
His jaw is tight.
I watch him stroke himself because I can't seem to look anywhere else.
He comes with a low sound I feel more than hear, spilling over his fist and my stomach while his eyes stay on mine.
It's the hottest thing I've ever seen.
Ronan breathes for a few seconds.
Then he immediately looks at me.
“Micah.”
“Mm.”
His brow furrows.
“Color?”
I have to find the word again. “Green.”
He releases a breath. “Okay.”
His hands move to my wrists.
The cuffs come off carefully.
One.
Then the other.
He rubs his thumbs over the skin beneath them even though there aren't marks.
I watch his hands—or maybe stare at them.
“Hey.”
I look at him.
His voice has gone softer. “How far away are you?”
I think about the question. “Not far.”
“That's not a measurable unit.”
I smile lazily.
“There you are,” he murmurs.
That makes me smile more.
Ronan reaches for the water on his nightstand.
He puts it in my hand but doesn't let go until my fingers close around it properly.
“Drink.”
I take a few swallows, then more because he's watching.
“Good.”
I laugh weakly. “You're weaponizing that word.”
“I noticed.”
“Asshole.”
“Better.”
He takes the water back.
I lie there while he cleans us up with a warm washcloth.
By the time he finishes, the floaty feeling has started to recede enough that I can recognize it for what it was.
Something I know academically and have watched happen to other people without ever getting anywhere near it myself.
I look at Ronan. “I think you broke my brain.”
His mouth curves. “I don't think I broke it.”
“It stopped.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“I've never done that before.”
The humor leaves his expression. “I know.”
“You know?”
“You got quieter. Your latency increased when I asked questions. Your muscles relaxed instead of tensing as you got closer.”
I stare at him. “You clinically observed me into subspace?”
“Not deliberately.”
A laugh escapes me.
Then I realize he's serious. “You weren't trying to?”
“No.” Ronan settles beside me, close but not touching until I shift toward him first. “I was trying to keep you focused and give you control by making the expectations predictable.”
“That apparently has the opposite effect.”
“Apparently.”
I think about it.
About the silence.
How fucking good it felt not to be responsible for anything.
“That wasn't deep.”
“No.” There's no hesitation in his answer. “You were responsive the entire time. You knew where you were. You came back quickly.”
I nod slowly.
Ronan's gaze stays on me. “How do you feel?”
“Good.”
He waits.
I know that trick.
“Really good,” I clarify. “A little… weird.”
“Weird how?”
I search for language that doesn't sound stupid. “Like somebody turned off a machine I didn't know was running.”
His expression softens.
Fuck.
I love him.
The thought appears with no warning.
Not I could love him.
Not I'm falling for him.
Just the truth, sitting there in my chest like it has been waiting for me to notice it.
I don't say it.
This night already has enough milestones.
Instead, I reach for him.
Ronan sees it coming and lets me put my hand against his chest.
“Thank you,” I say.
He covers my hand with his. “You're welcome.”
We stay like that for a while.
Long enough that the last of the haze clears.
Long enough that I become aware I'm naked in Ronan's bed and eventually need to decide whether I'm going back to my room.
I start to sit up.
Ronan's hand closes around my wrist.
I look at him.
His expression is almost annoyingly composed considering what he just did to me. “Stay.”
I blink.
Of all the things tonight that could have gotten to me, apparently that's the one.
“You want me to?”
“Yes.” The answer is immediate.
Ronan shifts slightly on the bed. “If you want to. I would like you to stay.”
Something in my chest folds in on itself.
The first time Cami was with him, she had to ask.
I know that because Cami tells me almost everything… eventually.
This time, Ronan asks me.
I don't know if he understands what that means to me.
Maybe he does.
He usually notices too much.
“Okay.”
Ronan reaches for the blanket and pulls it over us.
Then he pauses. “Touch?” The question is quiet.
I know exactly what he's asking.
“How?”
“You can put your arm around me.”
My throat tightens. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
I move slowly enough that he can track every inch, sliding closer and settling one arm across his waist.
Ronan adjusts once.
Then relaxes against me.
His hand settles over mine.
I close my eyes.
I have no idea what we're calling this yet.
I don't know what it looks like next week or next month or how it fits into everything else we already are.
For once, the unfinished edges don't bother me.
Maybe some things are better when you know where to stop.
I hold him.
And let the rest breathe.