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“I hope you find some time to read this week, Wren. I know it makes you happy.”
Oliver and Rhett are still here somewhere, and I don’t want to make this awkward for them. “Don’t be quiet on their account. Trust me, love. They want to hear.” Elliot’s words cause my stomach to tighten. “They—they do?” He sucks my clit into his mouth before responding, releasing it with a lick. “Did you not see the way they were looking at you earlier? Let them hear that you’re satisfied.”
My face falls, and a slight ache begins to build in my chest. He’s been tense all night, and now, looking back over their visits to the coffee shops, he’s always been distant. Heat creeps through my veins as I remember how I begged him to kiss me. “You don’t want me.”
I gasp. “Wren?” I hear Elliot say. “Are you okay?” I turn, ripping the curtains open with a grin. “It has pockets!”
“The expectation of women to be stick thin is stupid, and it does more harm than good. You know that, right?” “Yes,” I mumble. He kneels, holding my hips in his hands and kissing my stomach. “I like you like this. It means we’re feeding you well. And I obviously like spoiling you.” He grins up at me.
I can’t help it. Rhett can handle himself, but he’s too angry to think straight right now. And if something happens to him, Oliver and I will never recover. He pulls me in with a hand on the back of my neck and kisses me, soft and slow. When he pulls away, he smiles. “I’ll come back in one piece. Promise.”
“Jesus,” Oliver mutters. “You can reason with this fuckwit? Shit. Now we’re never letting you go.”
“I know I’m not the best when it comes to affection, or a lot of emotions. But I want to be a safe person for you. I know this is all overwhelmingly fast for you, but I want to make this work. And last. So please—if I’m ever not giving you what you need from me, just tell me. I’ll do anything to keep you, Wren. Including holding you while you cry, however often that ends up being.”
