“What do you want, Thomas?” she asked, her chin jutting upward. “No teasing or quips. Tell me what you truly want.” Her question surprised me into answering without holding back. “I want you. I want to give you pleasure, both mentally and physically all day and every night for the rest of our lives. I want to be the reason you smile.” I watched as a slight flush crept up her neck, pleased. She longed for that too, it seemed. “I want to spend hours and years of my life figuring out ways of making you happy. I want you to feel the same way about me. Not because I’ve demanded it of you, but
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