Chapter 41
brODY
D espite her insistence throughout the walk home that she wasn’t tired, Katie is already asleep by the time that we get to her bedroom. I carefully lower her onto the mattress, and Nia presses a kiss to her forehead before pulling her bedding over her small, sugar-crashed body.
“She had so much fun,” Nia whispers, pulling the door closed behind us as we step out of the room. “Thank you for doing that for her.”
“Honestly, I enjoyed it,” I admit.
From my earliest memories, I was told that Halloween was a night for the Devil and that trick or treating was ‘an exercise in begging for handouts from strangers.’ The picture painted for me was that of greedy, horrible children dressed in gore and banging on the doors of people they don’t know, demanding to be given something that they didn’t deserve.
Watching Katie’s excitement with every house that she – very politely – approached, and her joy when she returned to us with each new piece of candy, I felt like an asshole for having kept my lights off for so many years.
It wasn’t a night of evil. It was a night of fun and innocence.
“Give me ten minutes,” Nia says, lifting herself to kiss my cheek.
As she turns away from me, I reach for her wrist, taking a firm hold of it. “Before you change, I have something to give to you.”
It takes me only a few minutes to get out to my car to retrieve the small, flat box that I brought with me and return to the kitchen, where Nia is waiting. The pads of my fingers tap along the smooth leather of the box as I approach the opposite side of the island, well aware of the beating of my heart.
I have now spent four years in absolute certainty that I would never do this again.
“You are not obligated to accept this,” I tell her, “but I want to be clear that this is not something I offer to you lightly. This is a commitment that I am ready to make to you, and one that I hope you’re ready to make to me.”
As I pull open the lid of the box, Nia snatches it from my hand with a gasp. Her finger trails across the delicate platinum chain of the jewelry inside, running circles along the O-ring at the center of the piece, lined with clusters of small diamonds.
“Is this a collar?” She asks quietly, her eyes flicking between me and the box in her hand.
“Yes,” I tell her.
“Brody, it’s beautiful.” Her eyes stay on mine as she smiles, moving around the island, which I now recognize as a physical barrier that I’d unknowingly placed between us. “I want it, and all of the responsibility and the commitment that comes with it.” Reaching behind me to tuck her hands into my pockets, she says, “I want everyone to know I’m yours.”
Pulling her hands from my pockets, she uses them to pile her hair on the top of her head, using her ombré locks to cover the silly cat ears she’s wearing.
I bring the delicate chain around her neck, letting the O-ring settle into the divot at the center of her collarbone before I reach for the small key now sitting alone in the box.
“I ask that you only remove this if you truly need to,” I tell her as I secure the clasp into place with the lock at the back. “Otherwise, it is to remain locked.”
“Shouldn’t you keep the key, then?” She asks over her shoulder.
Bringing my arm into her line of vision to show her the matching chain which sits behind the band of the watch on my wrist, I tell her, “I have one. You need to have one in case of emergency.”
Letting down her hair, she turns to face me, trailing her finger over the stones at the front of the collar. “This is really special, Sir. Thank you.”
“You are very special,” I tell her.
My finger hooks beneath her chin, pulling her toward me to press my lips to hers. My heart is jackhammering in my chest when she turns on her heel, headed toward her bedroom to change her clothes.
Now, she’s really something that I stand to lose.
Now, I run the risk of really hurting her.
My anxiousness only heightens when the doorbell rings and I open the door to greet Nia’s parents. It was one thing to meet with them as her attorney; I was the man helping their daughter and their granddaughter.
I was the good guy.
Now, with her mother’s eyes scanning the tattoos on my arm, I worry they may think that I’m anything but.
I met my first wife’s parents in the treatment room her first day there. They’d become fast friends with my mother and I saw them frequently enough that there was no discomfort when we decided to jump into a marriage before we’d even had a relationship.
April didn’t have any parents for me to meet, and therefor, no one for me to disappoint.
Nia’s parents are a huge part of her life. Aside from Katie, they may be the most important people in it. The gravity of that is not lost on me.
“Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh,” I greet them with a smile, extending a hand toward Nia’s stepfather, “it’s good to see you again, under better circumstances.”
Her mother studies me while I exchange pleasantries with Keith, and I don’t blame her for that. She’s a smart woman, she’s shown me that in the few meetings that we had to prepare for Nia’s court dates.
There is no doubt in my mind that she’s pieced together a timeline that is more than likely accurate, and that’s likely given her plenty of reason to doubt me.
“We both appreciate you being here tonight,” I tell her as Keith excuses himself to the living room.
“Nia and Katie are my world,” she says. “My daughter has been through hell and my grandbaby’s life has been flipped on its ass. I don’t care about your nice job or your rich-and-famous family, I care about how they’re treated. You treat them right , and you take care of them. I missed it last time, but I will not miss it again.”
Her voice cracks as she speaks, the corners of her eyes and the tip of her nose reddening as she stares me down.
When I knew him, my grandfather would speak about people who had fire inside of them; I think she would fit the bill.
“I understand,” I assure her, “and I can promise you that I would never do anything to harm them. I know that you don’t know me well enough yet to trust my word, but you will.”
“If I ever get the inkling that you’re being unkind to her…”
“I know an excellent criminal justice attorney. I can get you his information,” I joke.
A soft laugh escapes her and she offers an assuring pat to my arm. “Okay,” she says with a nod, “then you can call me Bev.”
Nia rounds the corner only a few minutes later to wrap her mother in a tight hug. It looks very similar to the hugs that my mother and I share with each other, but the energy around it feels entirely different.
It isn’t for show. There isn’t any doubt between them.
“I’m ready,” Nia tells me with a smile.
She’s changed into a sweater dress that reaches to the middle of her thighs, and a pair of shiny black boots that extend just above her knees. It certainly isn’t what I had expected, but it’s beautiful on her, all the same.
She bursts into a fit of giggles as we climb into my Volvo, looking over her shoulder toward the house as I start the engine.
“I feel like a teenager right now,” she tells me.
Before I can ask for clarification, she carefully and quickly peels off her dress, revealing beneath it a sleek faux-leather corset top, and a lace skirt cut nearly as short as the dress that I took a pair of safety shears to while we were at The Haven.
Tossing the dress into the back seat of the vehicle, she finally settles in her seat and secures the belt into place.
“Somehow, you’ve managed to surprise me twice in as many minutes,” I chuckle.
“It’s Sir’s first Halloween,” she tells me with a coy grin, “I had to dress up.”
The Haven’s parking lot is jam-packed as we pull in to find my designated space. The only other time that I’ve seen it so busy was for a New Year’s Eve party a few years ago. Isla had the brilliant idea to host a newcomers’ night on the same evening, which left vehicles wrapped around the block and a wait time for entry.
We climb out of the car and I reach for the dark metallic jack-o-lantern mask I brought with me, sliding it into place as I study Nia.
“You’re certain that you want to do this ‘Haven party’ style?” I ask, and she gives me a confident nod. “Then take off those panties,” I order.
Her teeth pull on her lower lip as she follows my instruction, sliding her black panties down her legs and tossing them into the passenger’s seat as I open my trunk.
“Do you remember which option you selected from the list presented to you?” I ask.
“Pink,” she nods.
“Come here, sweet girl.”
Bending her over the floor of the trunk, I reach into my bag and squeeze a generous amount of lubricant onto the silicone plug in my hand, which comes to an end with a pink, heart-shaped gem at the base. She gasps as I gently push it inside of her, but she makes no complaints.
“Are you ready for more?” I ask her.
She nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Preparing a second pink toy, I push this one inside of her pussy, nestling the front of it against her clit. She whines, squeezing her thighs together around my hand as I ensure that the vibrator is securely in place.
“You are not to come until I fuck you,” I growl into her ear. “No matter how good it feels, no matter how badly your body needs it. You don’t come until it’s my cock inside of you. Is that clear?”
Biting her lower lip, she nods, and I arch a brow at her in warning.
“Yes, Sir,” she chokes out.
With an approving smile, I reach into my bag for a length of lightweight steel chain, folding it in half before I toss it over my shoulders. “Good,” I nod. “Make me proud tonight.”
With one hand on her lower back and the other on the remote control in the pocket of my pants, I guide her toward the door and through security, into the monster that is Isla’s annual Halloween party.
The overhead lights are a deep cherry red, there is a crowd in front of the bar, which will likely be taking extra steps tonight to enforce their two-drink maximum, and the crowd inside is making themselves busy with conversation.
Isla is rushing about in a pink bustier bodysuit and a set of matching ears that stick out above her head. When she turns to the side, a large white ball of fluff can be seen sitting just above her ass, and my twenty-year-old self can’t help but laugh.
She’s dressed as a Playboy bunny.
“Sweet girl,” I croon, taking Nia by the chin, “why don’t you get yourself a glass of wine?”
With a nod, she leaves me, headed for the bar, and I press the button on the remote control wrapped in my hand.
I stifle a laugh as she stops in her tracks, her knees slamming together as she looks worriedly over her shoulder toward me. I motion her forward with a wave of two fingers, clicking off the power to the toy inside of her as she reaches the bar.
When she returns to me, her glass is already half emptied and her cheeks are reddened from embarrassment, her eyes flicking around the room as if to make sure that no one saw her.
I bring the toy back to life, and her hand darts out to squeeze onto my forearm.
“When you do that,” she whines, “it moves against the—”
“I know.” Clicking off the power once again, I add, “You need to work on your poker face.”
“Is there a timeline on this…game?” She asks.
I smirk beneath my mask, leaning close to her ear to purr, “The game ends when I decide that it’s time to use you.”
Her grips tightens on my arm almost immeasurably. I ignore it, guiding her instead through the party and toward an empty space on one of the plush lounge couches, which I drop into.
“You wanted to be the woman on her knees,” I say, throwing one leg over the other as I settle into the cushion. “Get on your knees, then.”
Obediently, she drops to the ground, placing her palms on her knees as she looks down toward them. It’s difficult to ignore her, to not immediately tell her what a good job she’s done, but tonight is really about her, and I plan to play the long game.
I join in on a conversation happening near us, giving Nia absolutely none of my attention, save the occasional tease with the vibrator. At the sound of her muffled whine, I adjust my positioning in my seat as my cock swells behind my zipper.
Not yet.
“I’ll be fucked, I know that arm!” I hear as a squeal over my shoulder.
Isla rushes around to the front of the couch to take the seat next to me as I click on Nia’s toy once more. Her body tightens, her knuckles going white against her knees, but she stays in position.
“Are we ignoring the beautiful woman at your feet?”
“Yes, we are,” I answer.
Nia’s thighs shift at the unrelenting vibration hitting her from both inside and out, and Isla chuckles, her eyes shifting from Nia to my lap.
“Front or back?”
“Both.”
“She’s about to come on my floor,” Isla taunts.
Keeping my eyes on my friend, I reach down to take Nia by the jaw, trailing my thumb across her chin. “No she isn’t,” I argue. “She knows the rules.”
Nia wraps a hand around my wrist, guiding my thumb into her mouth and sucking on it as she flicks the pad of it with her tongue. A moan vibrates from her throat up to my finger and throughout my hand as I glance over to see her eyes closed and her chest heaving.
Clicking off the power to her toy, I move my leg to drape on the other side of her, trapping her between my thighs.
My hand moves to grip her firmly by the throat as I lean in close to her. “I said no, ” I growl. Reaching for the steel chain hanging over my shoulders with my free hand, I ask her, “Do you need to lose the use of those hands?”
“No, Sir,” she answers with a shake of her head.
“Then behave yourself accordingly.”
Bending down to get closer to her, Isla says, “I can teach you how to come silently if you wanna sneak it past him.”
“Would you like to join her?” I ask her.
An empty threat, really. I’m fine with sharing space with Isla, I’m fine with having her watch a scene, especially when her presence fuels my partner. Sometimes we enjoy egging each other on.
I’d never scene with her, though.
“Black and blue never did look good on me,” she shrugs, leaning back as she throws one knee over the other. “Thanks for the offer, though, darling.”
With Nia perched between my knees, I click on her toy again and make a show of shifting in my seat, reaching to adjust my cock.
I’m impressed by both her silence and her restraint as I continuously pull her toward the edge and dangle her over it, only to bring her right back down again.
Even with a heaving chest and indentations on her knees from her fingernails biting into them, she composes herself.
I’m not sure if I can take much more of it.
A hand is placed gently at my thigh, offering a squeeze that draws my full attention to Nia. I ready myself to scold her until I see worry lacing her eyes, which dart between myself and something behind me.
“Strongbox,” she tells me quietly as she shifts her gaze to the other object of her attention.
With an understanding nod, I turn to look behind me, and my eyes land on Daniel Hart. He’s alone as he approaches the bar. His Domme is nowhere to be seen. Given what I’d come to learn of their relationship, I’d expect him not to be allowed here without her presence.
As I stand and slide my mask to the top of my head, my eyes meet Isla’s and a knowing look crosses her face.
“Ex-husband?” She asks me quietly. I offer a firm nod. Looking toward him, back to Nia, then to me, she says, “I have to get something from my office. Nothing better happen to that guy while my back is turned, right?”
“I’ll make sure that it doesn’t, dear.”
Taking Nia by the hand, the two of them stand and walk toward the administrative office tucked into a corner near the entrance. Daniel’s eyes land on Nia for a brief moment, but I’m already on my way toward him before he has the opportunity to try to get her attention.
There aren’t many people in this world that I genuinely hate. I hate my father, and his brother is just as much of a scumbag as he is. I hate them nearly equally, though my uncle maybe a bit less. He didn’t have any part in creating me. He had no obligation to love any of us. My father…
I may hate Daniel Hart more than I hate the two of them.
My fists tighten at my sides as I close in on him, and when I reach him, I’m careful to keep my voice down. “The owner has asked that you relinquish your membership card and leave the facility,” I tell him.
“What the hell,” he groans with a roll of his eyes. “Why are you everywhere?” I don’t look at him, because I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll kill him. Instead, I throw on that same feigned indifference that I wore in court and lazily extend a hand to wait for his card. “I’m not giving you my card.”
“I apologize if that sounded optional,” I say. “It wasn’t.”
“Did my wife tell you to kick me out?”
“To my recollection, you no longer have a wife, Mr. Hart,” I tell him.
“She doesn’t have my name anymore,” he says, posturing as he steps toward me, “but she will always be my wife. Let’s be clear about that.”
A humorless laugh bubbles out of me, and I smirk as I press a hand to the center of his chest, pushing his back against the wall.
“In the spirit of clarity, then, since you insist on referring to my submissive as your wife,” I muse, “you should know that I’m fucking your wife, I’m flogging your wife, I am regularly eating your wife’s pussy. And right now,” I say, pulling the remote from my pocket to click on the power, “I’m making your wife come; a task which you seemed to find too difficult to manage.”
His hand wraps itself around my wrist and his body works to push himself off of the wall, but I press more firmly against him in response, bringing my mouth inches from his ear as I drop my voice to a low growl.
“The ethics and politeness required of me when you met me are no longer in place. I’m not Nia’s attorney anymore. Now, I’m just the man who loves her,” I tell him. “This creates a problem for anyone who hurts her or Katie.”
“I wouldn’t hurt my daughter, asshole,” he grunts.
“You already have,” I tell him, “and if you do so again, understand that I will not hesitate to put you on the ground. Do I make myself clear?”
A long, loaded silence stretches itself between us as he glares at me, and I calmly hold his gaze, waiting for his response.
Daniel Hart is a weak and pathetic man, and I don’t mean because of his role in the community.
I mean that his hands are soft and his fingernails are squeaky clean. The man has never done hard work in his life, and everything that he has, he’s been handed by his overbearing Mommy dearest.
He didn’t even possess enough strength – or intelligence – to come up with his own cruelties toward his ex-wife. He followed in someone else’s lead and watched them dirty their hands first so that he wouldn’t have to.
He’s a coward.
I know it. He knows it.
“Yes,” he finally bites, glowering at me.
An amused chuckle slips out of me as the corner of my mouth pulls up. My hand moves from his chest to his throat, squeezing just hard enough to make him cough, and I lean in close again, keeping my mouth next to his ear.
“Yes, who?”
“You can’t be serious,” he chokes.
“I’m not a funny man, Daniel. I don’t joke,” I tell him. “I’ll ask you again – yes, who?”
“Yes… Sir ,” he grunts.
I don’t fight the satisfied smirk that crosses my face as I release my grip on him, moving instead to shove him toward the door.
“Consider the inside of The Haven something that you’ll – what is it that you like to say? ‘Never see again,’ ” I tell him.
He stumbles out of the building, past incoming members and into the busy parking lot. I watch for just a moment before turning to head back into the main area of the club, where Isla is on her way toward me; now one of six Playboy bunnies in the building.
Her arms cross over her chest as we reach other, an unamused expression plastered over her face. “Are the cops about to show up?”
“Only if he comes back,” I say, finally remembering to turn off Nia’s toy. “Where is she?”
“Melted into a puddle on the floor of my office,” she laughs.
She practically buzzes beside me as the two of us step through the party, Isla clicking away in her too-tall, too-thin heels, and my harsh and deliberate steps are muffled by the soles of my leather sneakers.
We pass costumes of all kinds: people wearing masks with LED lights lit brightly on their faces, some dressed in character costumes, others wearing nothing or nearly-nothing. I don’t pay them any mind. I’m focused on one thing, and one thing only.
Once again, this feeling is familiar.
My heart is hammering in my chest, and I feel that same need that I did the night that she almost slept with another man. A need to have her in my hands. A need to claim her. A need to protect her.
Crossing the threshold into Isla’s office, I find Nia perched perfectly on her knees, her palms planted against her thighs and her eyes aimed toward the ground.
As I approach her, her gaze flicks to me and away again faster than the time that it takes me to blink.
Crouching in front of her, I hook a finger beneath her chin and force her to look at me. “Are you alright?” I ask.
“I’m sorry,” she nods. “I just couldn’t be around him. I couldn’t share this space with him.”
“I never want to hear you apologize for using a safe word appropriately,” I scold her.
Her hands move from their place on her thighs to grasp onto my biceps as I reach between her legs to gently remove the toys still inside of her.
Caramel eyes glue to me with a hunger behind their dreamy haze as she pulls me closer to her.
“I didn’t follow the rules,” she tells me quietly.
“She really didn’t,” Isla taunts, perching on the edge of her desk. She reaches into the bowl to her left for a mint as one knee crosses over the other, tossing the mint into her mouth. “She came so hard, my eyes almost rolled back.”
Ignoring her obvious attempt to see Nia punished, I focus my attention to the woman in front of me. Her eyes search mine, and for long moments, we have a conversation with each other that doesn’t require either of us to speak.
Stroking my thumb across her chin, I arch a brow, and she offers a soft nod in return. Pushing myself to a standing position as I pull the steel chain from around my neck, I nod toward her. “Stand up,” I order.
As she complies, I take the space behind her, folding her arms over each other at her back as I carefully wrap the chain around them, ensuring that it won’t snag or pinch her skin.
Slapping my mask back onto my face, I pick up Nia’s body and haul her over my shoulder, landing a hard smack against her ass. “If you’re coming with us, you’d better keep up,” I tell Isla as I stalk out of the office.
My hand kneads into the flesh of Nia’s ass as we walk through the tightly-packed crowd of partygoers with Isla following close behind. I can vaguely hear her telling a staff member to keep an eye on things while she ‘helps a club member,’ and I can’t help but to laugh.
Everyone who works here has done so for at least as long as I’ve been a member. They all know what she’s doing. I’m not sure why she feels the need to lie about it.
“Sir,” Nia says from her place over my shoulder, “everyone can see me.”
“That’s the point,” I tell her. Moving my hand to slip my fingers between her lips and spread them apart, I add, “Everyone should get to see the pretty pussy that’s about to come for me.”
I force myself to keep a slow and steady pace as the three of us trek through the club and head down the long hall toward the red room.
I want her on display. I want her shy and blushing. I want her begging for me to finish her off as soon as we step through the door.
“You remember the spanking bench, don’t you, sweet girl?” I ask as we reach the center of the room.
“Yes, Sir,” she nods.
Sliding her off of my shoulder, I position her body onto the bench, resting her shins against the lower planks and her torso against the top of it. I work quickly to maneuver the chain off of her arms, using it instead to secure her wrists to her ankles and her ankles to the frame of the bench.
Crouching in front of her, I offer her a tilt of my head and gently tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Should I use your mouth or your cunt first?” I ask.
“You can use whichever parts of me you want, Sir,” she tells me.
Isla’s shoes fall softly against he floor as she kicks them off of her feet, and the bodysuit of her costume joins them on the floor only moments later.
Nia’s eyes study me, seeming to search for mine from behind my mask, and I know that she’s taking note of the fact that she has my full attention. It isn’t Isla’s body that I’m looking at. It isn’t Isla’s body that I want.
It’s hers.
Something softens behind her gaze just before she turns her head in Isla’s direction.
Pulling my shirt over my head as my friend situates herself on the bed, facing Nia, I toss it onto the ground and work open my belt. Folding the leather, I press it against Nia’s open palm, wrapping her fingers tightly around it.
“If you need to use a safe word and you can’t speak, I want you to drop this,” I tell her. “You can manage that, can’t you, sweet girl?”
“Yes, Sir,” she nods.
“Good.” Taking her by the jaw and forcing her to look up at me through her thick lashes, I tell her, “Now open that pretty mouth for me and relax your throat.”
With her eyes on mine, her mouth falls open as I slide down my jeans and the boxer briefs underneath them to free my aching cock. I wrap a hand around it to offer myself a few long strokes, reaching for the back of Nia’s head with my free hand before slipping the head of it past her lips.
I withdraw, offering just the tip of it to her a few more times before pushing further into her mouth, moaning as wet heat surrounds my shaft.
“Can my sweet whore take all nine inches in her throat?” I purr. “Or will she disappoint me?”
The only response that she’s able to give me is that of a muffled groan as her wrists fight for freedom against their restraints.
I move my hips faster, watching her lipstick smear further and further up the length of my cock with every stroke as I go deeper. In my peripheral, Isla brings her fingers to her mouth, licking them before slipping them inside of herself.
My grip on Nia’s hair tightens as the warmth of her throat and the muffled groans forcing their way out of her work to send liquid heat pouring down the length of my spine. My hips have a mind of their own, moving hard and fast as Nia struggles against her restraints and her eyes roll backward in her head.
Like her lipstick, her mascara is smeared beneath her watering eyes.
“You should see what your beautiful face looks like when it gets fucked,” I pant.
I push myself to the brink, fueled by Nia’s quiet vocalizations until I’m right at the edge, and as badly as I want to keep going, I stop myself.
My chest heaves as I withdraw from her mouth, brushing her fallen hair from her face as she gasps for air that she’d been deprived of. The center of her lips are bare, and the lipstick left at the edges of her mouth has smudged across her face.
Crouching in front of her, I stroke her hair once again, offering her a smile from behind my mask.
“You did very well, sweet girl,” I tell her. “I’m very proud of you.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she pants, the corner of her mouth ticking up.
“Do you remember what I told you about coming?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m only allowed to come when—” she huffs. “—when your cock is inside me.”
With a stroke of my thumb against her cheek, I stand, moving to take my position behind her. My eyes flit to Isla, whose free hand is pressed into her face, the other trapped between her tightly-clamped thighs.
With my hands on Nia’s hips, I bend down until my mouth is close to her ear. “Watch her make herself come while I fuck you,” I order her quietly as I push inside of her.
Looking over her shoulder at me, she uses her eyes to ask me for confirmation.
To make sure that this isn’t a setup for punishment.
I offer her an affirmative nod and she adjusts herself, pinning her gaze onto Isla. My friend’s hand moves from her face to allow her to hold eye contact with Nia, listening and watching as she moans and buckles.
Despite her attempts to be silent, quiet whines claw their way from Isla’s throat as her fingers furiously work her pussy, spurring on Nia’s own symphony of moans which sound out as her cunt tightens around me.
I ball my fist in her hair, yanking her head backward as all three of us ride the waves of our orgasms together. “ Fuck ,” I pant, hooking the fingers of my free hand beneath my mask to throw it off of my head. Leaning forward, I take Nia’s mouth with my own, brushing my tongue against hers while I spill into her.
Her eyes are dreamy, her body is slack, and the smile on her face tells me that she’s finished here. It’s time to call it a night and get her home.
No more than ten minutes later, Nia sits perched on the bed with a bottle of water in her hand. Isla steps back into her bodysuit next to her, and I work to wipe down the bench.
“You guys won’t stay?” Isla pleads.
My eyes move between her and Nia, to whom I offer a gentle smile and a wink. “No,” I say. “Some aftercare is best administered at home.”
“Fine,” she pouts. Moving to press her cheek to Nia’s with a kiss, she says, “Thanks for the show, love.”
As Isla exits the room, I pluck my t-shirt from the floor and approach Nia with it, using my chin to gesture for her to lift her arms. When she does, I pull the fabric down and over her body. A soft smile crosses her features, but fades as her eyes scan my body and return to meet my gaze.
“You don’t like—”
“It’s okay,” I assure her, taking hold of her chin as I press my lips to hers. “Are you ready? A box of chocolates and a warm bubble bath are calling your name.”
“Can we watch Ghost, too?” She asks, pushing out her lower lip as she looks up at me through her lashes.
“I didn’t know that you liked horror movies,” I say, blinking back my surprise.
A light giggle flies out of her as she stands to tuck herself beneath my arm, wrapping her arms around my middle. “Yeah, totally.”