Chapter 27 I had never brought another man to my house, so I hadn't pictured what it would be like to cuddle in front of the TV with someone. It was strange how comfortable it was to have Tore here. And he was surprisingly snuggly. After letting Benjamin out to use the bathroom and getting him settled in his bed, Tore had opened his arms to me, and I had tucked myself against him. We'd put on a movie, but neither of us was really watching it. I played with his ring, and he buried his nose in my hair. For a while, we stayed like that, quiet, comfortably close, finally taking a breath after a wrought, tension-filled dinner. I wanted to check in with him, see how he was feeling, but I wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it. Or if it was even my place. "Are you okay?" he asked. I shifted a little, just enough to look up at him. "I was just wondering the same thing about you. I'm fine, but how about you? Are you okay?" His eyes flicked down to me, thoughtful. "I am." A pause. "Better now." I nodded, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand where it rested on my hip. "You hadn't expected that-what Sam had done at dinner." I might not have understood exactly what had gone down, but it had been plain as day Sam had overstepped very clear boundaries. With what Tore had told me about the start of their relationship, how Sam had convinced him to change his name, I wondered if Tore pushing back was a new thing. He certainly hadn't been happy with Tore shutting down the conversation he'd wanted to have. Tore's fingers tightened slightly, like he was sifting through his thoughts before offering one up. "It's hard," he said finally. "Seeing things differently...feeling like I missed something I should've seen coming." His voice was low, scratchy. "That kind of dissonance between Sam and me...it's not something I'm used to, and it grates." "I bet you're not looking forward to what Monday will bring." He scoffed. "No. Conflict is not my favorite, but I don't avoid vital conversations. Sam and I will have to talk, but it's good we have time to cool down before that happens." "He isn't happy with you." As far as I was concerned, Sam could suck it, but it was obvious Tore had to take a different approach. I might not have liked Sam, but they worked together and shared a long history. I just hoped fixing their problems wasn't detrimental to Tore. "He hasn't been for some time now. I don't really blame him." He rubbed his cheek against my hair. "I'm a difficult person, Beatrice. You need to know that." "I've been a waitress for a decade. I know difficult people, and you're not even close. I'm sorry anyone has ever made you feel that way." "You're being sweet." I laid my head on his chest again, a secret smile curving my lips. "No one has ever called me sweet." "Then they've thought it." I sincerely doubted that, but I was in no mood to argue. "Do you still like planes?" If I hadn't been plastered against him, I wouldn't have heard his low, sharp intake of breath. "I do. You remember that?" "Of course." I trailed my fingers over the buttons on his shirt. "Tell me something about planes." He hesitated then lifted his hips a little so he could reach into his pocket and slip out his phone. Swiping the screen, he scrolled over a few app icons. For a moment, something caught my eye, but he was past it and clicking on a yellow one with a black outline of a plane before I could figure out what it was. "I like to watch this route." His fingertip hovered over a thin black line swooping across the screen. "It goes from Johannesburg to Sydney, passing within a couple hundred miles of Antarctica. Right now, there are only two airlines that fly over the Southern Ocean." He enlarged the map, pointing to the lines going from the bottom of Africa to Australia, then he showed me Europe, which was almost invisible beneath the zigzagging lines. "Do you see?" He moved back to the Southern Ocean. "That sky is almost empty. When you're flying up there, it's just you and the people on the plane with you. Nothing below you, nothing above you." "That sounds..." A little scary. Desolate. Cold. "Calm," he finished. "There's a flight path from Chile to Sydney no other planes take. They call it the loneliest flight in the world." "Have you taken it?" "Not yet." He exhaled. "It would mean taking a lot of time off work, and...well-" "That doesn't happen." "No. Not as often as I'd like." He laughed dryly. "When I go, I'll take you." "Okay." I grinned, playing along. "I guess since we'll be vacationing in Chile and Australia, I should get a passport." "You absolutely should. There are a lot of places I'd like to take you." I loved the sound of that little fantasy. "Will you do that between meetings and building walls of fire?" There was a long beat of silence then he huffed a laugh. "Firewalls, right?" "Right," I agreed. "To be honest, when we met two years ago, I wanted to be with you, but I'm almost certain you wouldn't have enjoyed what that would have looked like." He stroked a long line down my back. I barely breathed, listening to his every word. "When Tia died, I made necessary changes in my life." "Like what?" "Like actually giving myself the opportunity to live. It's never enough, but if I didn't set an alarm to end my workday, I could easily get lost and spend the entire night staring at my computer screen." "I have a feeling you still spend more time working than most." "That's undoubtedly true. But I've become capable of shutting it off. That wasn't always the case." "I'm sorry you lost your sister, Salvatore. More sorry than I can say. But I'm glad you had a wake-up call. You deserve more than just your job." "Can I kiss you now?" he asked. I sighed, lifting my face again. He caught my chin with his fingers and tapped on the dimple in my cheek. My stomach dipped and thousands of butterflies took flight. "I appreciate you asking me, but I think we should talk about this." He started to release his hold on me, but I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, keeping him there. "Tore..." I licked my lips, "I love that you asked to kiss me, but you don't have to anymore. I want you to." He cocked his head. "Yeah?" "Mmmhmm. And when we played, I loved you checking in. But if you want, we could pick a safe word." He brought his other hand up to my hair, combing his fingers through the side. "What would you choose?" "I've never had one." I leaned into his touch, on the verge of purring. "Do you have an idea?" "I've never had one either." He pulled me closer, running his nose along mine. "Antarctica?" "Yes," I murmured, so close to his lips I could feel his breath. "That's perfect." We moved at the same time, our mouths colliding in a firm, hungry kiss. A whimper escaped me without warning, and Tore groaned, low and rough, making me melt into him. His fingers curled in my hair, tilting my head just enough for him to deepen the kiss. I loved the way he kissed. Like he'd thought it out, studied every aspect, then put his knowledge to use on me. I parted my lips, letting him in, and everything else-the movie playing on the TV, the tension from dinner, my dog's quiet snores-faded until there was only us. His hands, his mouth, the careful yet unrelenting way he touched me. Aching for more, I bunched up my dress and climbed into his lap, straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. He stilled for a second, like he was recalibrating, then exhaled through his nose and leaned back just enough to look at me. "I like you from this angle," he said, more gruff than I'd ever heard him. I flattened my palms on his chest, sliding upward to his shoulders. "You're so handsome, it's hard to look at you head-on." Tore adjusted his glasses, his mouth opening and closing as he stared up at me. His fingers tightened on my thighs, and his gaze swept over my face with that same intense focus he gave everything that mattered to him. "You really think that?" he asked, his voice low. I leaned in, brushing my nose against his. "I do. You're the smartest man I've ever met, so you really have no business looking like you do." I nipped his jaw and chin, making him shift beneath me. "From what I've felt and glimpsed, the college rumors were true. And the way you look at me"-I shivered-"like I'm the only thing you see." His throat bobbed with a swallow. "No one's ever spoken to me the way you do." I pressed down on his erection, a puff of air escaping from between my lips. "Does it make you feel good?" "Yes. So damn good." He kissed me again, deep and purposeful, giving me praise with action instead of words. And I felt it-the way he desired me, couldn't get enough of me. He didn't hold back or play it cool, and that made it easier for me to dive in headfirst. I rocked my hips against him, and his hands gripped tighter, dragging a groan from us both. He broke the kiss, breathing hard. "I want-" I slid my fingers through his thick, dark hair. "Tell me," I murmured. "To taste you. I want to taste you." My breath caught. "I need to," he amended. "Can I?" I closed my eyes and exhaled. I'd have to get used to his direct questions. Hearing him ask made me squirm as heat rose from my belly to my cheeks. I loved it. "Yes," I whispered, my eyes fluttering open and locking with his. "I need it too." Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!