Chapter 22: Her Choice

Nolan's POV

I had kissed my wife thousands of times, and I had never once been kissed like that.

She had her hand in my hair and her other hand flat against my chest, and she was not asking permission from anybody.

When she finally pulled back, we were both short of breath.

"Say something," she said.

"I don't have anything that isn't stupid."

"Then say the stupid thing."

"I thought you'd never do that again."

"I thought so too." Her thumb moved along my jaw. "Rule three. You answer whatever I ask, truthfully."

"Ask."

"Do you want me?"

"Yes."

"Not out of guilt."

"I have been going crazy since the cabin," I said.

"I had your hands under my jacket for six hours, and I remembered every minute."

She almost laughed.

"Rule five," I said. "You made it. You keep telling me you made it."

"I'm breaking it." She reached down and took my wrist. "And you're not going to throw it back at me again."

"I wouldn't."

"You just did. Come on."

She led me through the dark kitchen by the wrist, past the drawer and the table where she had written her terms.

Then she led me up the stairs.

On the landing she stopped and turned around.

The hall light was off, and the only glow came from the street through the window.

She was a step above me, so that our eyes were level.

"I decide," she said. "That's what I told you. I decide where, and how, and how long."

"Yes."

"Our bed. Not the couch."

"Yes."

"And if I say stop, you stop, and you don't sulk."

"I'll make you tea."

She laughed then, an actual laugh, low and surprised.

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