“Expect.” Stavros grabbed Daniel’s hand, bringing it to the middle of his chest. Holding him there in the tightest grip. “You brought me here. You let me see you. You damn well better expect things from me,” he said fiercely, gaze hot and heavy as the midday sun. “Expect things from me.” “Diablo.” “Expect me to love you like you love me.” He shifted closer, settling between Daniel’s legs. “Expect me to respect you enough to do right by you,” he said hoarsely. “For once, fucking expect me to take care of your heart.”
