“Would you ever consider moving?”

Caught off-guard by his question, I ask, “What?” while taking my sheer, dark pink blouse off the hanger and slipping it on over my thin cami.

“Would you ever consider moving somewhere else?” he asks when I turn to face him, buttoning the buttons of my shirt.

“Somewhere else, like where?” I ask, studying him and wondering where this is coming from.

“Tennessee?”

“Where you grew up?” I prompt. He’s talked about his hometown a lot, and about the family he grew up with, and I know he misses them, even if he doesn’t say it.

“Yeah.” He nods, uncrossing his arms and pushing away from the door.

“Do you want to move?” I question as he gets closer, and then start backing up when his eyes drop to my fingers working the buttons over my breasts then darken. “Stay back. I need to get ready.” I hold out a hand, hoping to keep him at bay.

“I think I should just keep you tied to the bed,” he mutters, trapping my hand between us as my back hits the wall, and his hands wrap around my waist and slide back over my ass, pulling my hips into his.

Whispering, “That’s not going to happen,” I bite my lip as his mouth travels down my throat. Resting my hands on his shoulders, I push. “Sven.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

“We have to leave for work,” I moan as his hand slides down my hip, up my thigh, and under my skirt, and as he pushes the lace of my panties to the side, his fingers zero in on my clit with such accuracy that my hips buck.

“You may have forgotten, but I’m the boss.” He nips my ear. “Promise if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you keep your job.” His lips travel down my neck and my eyes slide closed.

Running my hands up his neck into his hair, my fingers tangle with the strands and I pull back until his eyes meet mine.

“We really need to—” Words lodge in my throat as two thick fingers enter me and his mouth crashes down on mine. Thrusting his tongue into my mouth, his thumb circles my clit and his fingers work faster until I’m riding his hand.

“Give it to me,” he demands against my mouth, and I do.

My core convulses, sucking his fingers deeper as I orgasm hard, my eyes slide closed, my head falls back against the wall, and my body turns liquid.

“One taste,” he whispers, pulling back, and his hands bunch my skirt up over my hips and he drops to his knees in front of me. Looking down the length of my body, I watch him press his nose into the juncture between my thighs then he rips my panties to the side and his tongue comes out, lapping at my folds. Watching his eyes close, my head falls back against the wall once more. There is nothing better than him touching me, nothing better than seeing him enjoy my body.

“Sven,” I whisper, grabbing onto the top of his head so I don’t fall over when his tongue moves rapidly against my clit and his thumbs spread me open. I’m close, so close. Rising up on my tiptoes, the feeling of his mouth on me starts to overwhelm me. Hearing a loud smack sound in the quiet room, my eyes fly open and my core convulses as the sting of his hand settles into the skin of my thigh. Tilting my head back down toward him, our eyes lock and he smacks me once more, this time harder, the sting and the look in his eyes sending me into an orgasm that has my body lighting up from the inside out, every cell detonating at the same time, sending me into the stratosphere. I don’t even realize it’s me making the whimpering noises I hear until I recognize that Sven is shushing me as he holds me in his lap on the floor. Opening my eyes, I try to catch my breath then bury my face against his neck as tears fill my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers into my ear as his hand moves over my back in a soothing motion.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” I sniff, wiping my face with the back of my hand as I cling to him with the other.

“You’ve had a lot happen in the last few days.” He kisses the top of my head once more then pulls my forehead out of his neck and his eyes scan my face.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, and his head tilts slightly, like he’s saying ‘Yeah right.’ “I promise. It was just a really good orgasm,” I tell him, and he smiles his beautiful smile then rests his lips against my forehead.

“All you have to do is tell me and we’ll leave work early,” he says gently against the skin above my brow.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know, but I want you to be more than fine, and if I have to hold you hostage in bed for another day to make sure that’s so, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Sven,” I sigh, closing my eyes.

His hand in my hair at the back of my head tugs gently, and my eyes open back up to meet his concerned ones. “You need rest. The club’ll be fine.”

“You just don’t want me to be there,” I mutter, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t want you there after what happened, but I know that’s not realistic.”

“I—”

“I don’t want you sick,” he cuts me off before I can get any words out. “You can fight me on this all you want, but you need rest.”

“What’s really going on?” I ask, running my fingers down his jaw. “Why the question about moving?”

He moves to help me stand then stands with me and leads me to the bed.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” he tells me as he settles me against him on the bed, my body tucked alongside the length of his.

“Like what?”

“The club was good when I didn’t have any responsibilities outside of myself, but with you, and hopefully—one day—kids, I don’t think that’s true anymore,” he states, and my body goes solid against his.

“I thought you loved your club.”

“I do, or I did,” he mutters, looking across the room.

“Sven,” I call, bringing his gaze back to mine, and then rest my hand against his chest over his heart. “You don’t have to change—”

“I know,” he interrupts, running his fingers softly down my cheek. “I just want more. I don’t know what the next few years will bring, but I know that with you in my life, I don’t want to be working the club ‘til all hours off the night.”

“I’m there with you,” I remind him, and his eyes go soft…softer than I have ever seen them.

“If we have a child, you won’t be, and I don’t want to be a part-time parent like my father was.”

“I can understand that, but you love Vegas.”

“I don’t love Vegas. I love you. Vegas is just the place I moved to because it fit the life I was living. Now it doesn’t fit anymore.”

“And Tennessee fits?” I ask, running my hand up the side of his neck, curving my fingers there.

“It’s a good place to raise a family, the people are nice, and the town I grew up in is somewhere I can see my kids growing up. I want that for them. I want them to grow up in a town where people know who you are and care about you. You’re not just one more person to them.”

“You’ve thrown around the family word a lot in the last few minutes,” I tell him.