“Whoa,” Hannah said, dragging out the word as her eyes trailed up and up and up until her head angled straight toward the sky. “That is huge.”

“You excited?” I asked, squeezing her hand, her other occupied holding Connor’s.

“Yes!” She bounced between us as we walked along Pier 57, heading toward the giant Ferris wheel.

The air was cool for late May, a wonderfully chill overcast day with no rain. A perfect day for an outing, especially since it was the only one this week Connor had already had his morning skate, and I didn’t have a celebrity event to attend either.

“We’re in luck,” Connor said, his smile easy and effortless as he watched Hannah beam. “Not a long line.”

That much was true, only a handful of people waited for the ride, and Connor was handing the operator our tickets after a short ten-minute wait.

Hannah’s bouncing stopped as we were ushered into our own personal cabin—Connor springing for the elite tickets that would allow us this special day with Hannah completely solo. Her breaths grew short, her eyes wide as saucers as the door was properly sealed behind us. She tightened her grip on my hand as she gazed down at the glass floor beneath our feet.

I knelt to her level, tipping her chin up. “We don’t have to do this,” I said. “If you’re uncomfortable say the word and we’ll get out right now.”

She chewed on her lip, shifting from one pink-glitter-shoe to the other. “No,” she said, determined. “I’m excited. Scared, too, but you’re here. And Uncle Connor. So, I’m safe.”

My eyes flashed up to Connor’s like I could feel the tug on his heartstrings at her declaration. Such a small thing, one I knew I took for granted—to feel safe with someone. Something sank in my stomach, knowing Hannah hadn’t always felt safe. Hadn’t always felt the security of a stable family, of a constant in her life, until recently.

I wrapped my arms around her as the cabin started to climb. “You’re always safe with me,” I said. “With us,” I amended, glancing up and over her shoulder.

Connor’s dark eyes churned as they locked with mine—a magnetic, electric look that melted my insides while filling my chest with something so powerful I trembled. The moment was pure sunshine on a gray-sky day. A warm breeze in the summer. A sweet treat on an otherwise normal day.

Love. This is what loving someone is like.

I released Hannah as we shuffled to the leather seats in the cabin. The tension in her little shoulders was gone, the breath in her lungs easy and smooth—the result of trusting two people so completely there was no longer a thing to fear.

The realization was enough to spread icy-fear through my blood. What would happen to her if I ruined things between me and Connor? Not that we’d defined what we were or that I’d managed the courage to tell him how I really felt.

Dangerous.

What Connor and I had done—were doing. Giving into our wild passions was one thing, but lately, we’d behaved as a couple would, like Eric and Pepper would. Dates and late night conversations, whispered

secrets, and dreams and shared moments where I’d never been so vulnerable with someone in my entire life. Never trusted a man so completely as I did Connor.

And never once had it occurred to me that a bad fallout would result in pain for Hannah.

If we didn’t work, if he didn’t love me like I loved him, would I be strong enough to go back to the way things were before? Could I go back to hissing at him, glaring at him, fighting with him as I remained in Hannah’s life? Because she was the last person in the world I wanted to hurt, with Connor coming in a close second.

“Ivy!” Hannah squealed, pointing to the side of the glass cabin and thankfully drawing me out of my thoughts. “Did you see that splash? You think it was a whale?”

I followed her aim, smiling as we all looked out to the water that stretched to the horizon. The waves were a calm blue against the slate-gray sky.

“Could be,” Connor said.

“Or,” I said, grinning as I leaned closer to Hannah. “It could’ve been a narwhal.”

She gasped. “You think?”

I nodded. “They love to sneak out on gloomy days like this.”

Connor chuckled.

Hannah focused on the water with the intensity of a hawk. “That would be so cool!”

Connor tilted his head at me.

“Narwhals are loosely related to unicorns,” I explained.

“Oh,” he said. “I had no idea.”

“They have a horn,” Hannah said, not bothering to look at him. “How could you not know?”

“Yeah,” I said, laughing. “You need to stay on top of these things.”

The smile faltered on Connor’s lips, seriousness leaking into the light gaze he’d held seconds ago. He stood from his seat, slowly walking to the other side of the cabin as we ascended to the very top. Hannah stayed adamantly focused on the water, so I followed Connor.

“Hey,” I said, sliding my arm up his back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“It’s fine.” He kept his eyes looking outward. “You’re not wrong. There are so many things I need to stay on top of and sometimes I worry I’ll never manage it all.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “My mother…”

“Is a class-A bitch,” I finished for him, making sure to whisper the last word. He finally looked at me, and I took a deep breath. “She is,” I continued, thinking of the scene I’d walked in on in the coffee shop, and Connor’s explanation of it later. “You are not her.”

Connor furrowed his brow. “Oh, I know that,” he said. “But my lifestyle..my past lifestyle. I didn’t exactly behave like a…dad,” he mouthed the last word.

“Because you weren’t,” I said, moving my hand to his coiled forearm as he gripped the cabin’s railing. It wasn’t because he was afraid of heights, hell I didn’t think the man was afraid of any physical entity. It was the mental demons that terrified him—the idea that he might not be good enough for Hannah or he might fail her. “No one can hold your past against you,” I said.

“Tell that to the blood-thirsty reporters who are dying for an excuse to dig out the skeletons in my closet.”

I jolted, the jab stinging true and fierce.

“Shit, Ivy,” he said when I’d dropped my hand. “I didn’t mean you.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him like I might run away in the enclosed cabin one-hundred and seventy-five feet in the air.

I shrugged.

“I know you’d never do something like that,” he continued.

“Only if the skeletons are meant to be laid bare,” I said, unable to lie to him.

“Wait, what?” He moved his hands to my hips, our bodies practically flush, and I trembled against him. “You’ve always said you want to be a positive change in your industry.”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s my dream. But I know some things, even dark things, need to be exposed for the greater good.”

He raised his brows, not following.

“For example,” I said. “When my editor brought to light that one of the industry’s most powerful players was a serial sexual assaulter.”

“Ah,” he said.

“That was dark business. Risky, too, but she had evidence, facts, victim reports, everything. Running that piece helped get him behind bars.”

“And spared future victims,” he said, nodding. A smile shaped his lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I chuckled nervously.

“Because,” he said. “For all your talk of only watching Pepper’s superhero movies for the hot guys, you certainly are a hero yourself.”

I gaped at him, rolling my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it,” he said. “You’ve got values and morals I’ve never seen. Especially when the easy route would be to walk the line your profession normally does. You’re incredible.”

I glanced down, my cheeks flaring. I wasn’t used to this.

Pepper was the smart one, the one people looked up to and marveled at because of her amazing brain. I was a shiny package with a knack for words and the ability to transform any event into a party.

“And,” he continued, forcing me to look at him. “You don’t let enough people see that side of you. Why is that?”

I parted my lips, the answer on the tip of my tongue.

I never let people close enough to burn me.

I burn them before they get the chance.

I love you, that’s why you’re different.

“A tail!” Hannah screamed, and I jolted in Connor’s embrace.

We both hurried to where she sat, bouncing in her seat and pointing toward the water again. “I saw a tail!”

“Good eyes!” I sank next to her. “You know it’s good luck if you spot one,” I said, winking at Connor who stood before us, not bothering with the immaculate view.

“Can I give it to someone else?” Hannah asked, suddenly serious.

“Why would you want to do that?” I asked.

She glanced at Connor. “Because,” she said. “I’m already so lucky. I don’t need anymore.” She returned her eyes to me. “Can I give it to Uncle Connor?”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Sure you can.”

“Good,” she said, waving her arms toward him. “There. Now you have it, Uncle Connor! You’ll win the Cup for sure.”

I bit back my smile.

Connor sank to his knees, wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest as he rose to stand again.

“Love you, Hannah Banana,” he said, eyes clenched shut, cheek pressed against the long hair I’d left half down, half braided.

“Love you,” she said, wiggling against his hold. “We’re going down!” She said as the cabin carried us back to earth.

We stepped onto the solid pier a few minutes later, but it didn’t matter.

I still felt like I was walking on clouds.

“Great idea to stop at Pike Place Market,” Connor said as he cleared away the dishes.

We’d spent the rest of the day exploring the pier and then headed to the market to buy fresh produce and seafood for the dinner we’d just consumed.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I said, wiping down the table. “I’ll warn you; it’s the only thing I can cook.”

“I loved it!” Hannah said, slumping slightly in her chair. We’d worn her out proper today.

“Now, baking,” I said. “That I can do.”

Hannah’s eyes lit up. “Like cupcakes?”

“Easy.”

“Brownies?”

“My favorite.”

“With sprinkles?”

I chuckled. “Of course.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Yes.” I smiled. “But, tomorrow.”

She frowned.

“Sorry, Hannah Banana.” I touched her shoulder. “It’s getting late. We’ve had a big day, and we’re all tired. I still have to drive home.”

She sighed. “I wish you could stay here all the time.”

I pressed my lips together to stop myself from saying me too.

“That would be okay with you?” Connor asked Hannah, the words out so fast it was like he couldn’t help himself.

I rose to my feet, spinning to face him with wide eyes.

We hadn’t discussed this beyond the mutual agreement that we both wanted Hannah’s happiness and comfort to come first.

“Yes,” Hannah said with a little sass that showed how much she was like her Uncle. “She’s my best friend!”

I spun back to her and squeezed her. “And you’re mine too, but—”

“And you’re Uncle Connor’s girlfriend,” she cut me off. “We both want you around all the time. Don’t we?” She looked at him like this was the most ridiculous conversation in the world, and I bit back a laugh.

Connor cleared his throat, and I flashed him a look that screamed told you she was sharp as a hawk. The look quickly switched to panic because Hannah had put a label out there we’d never discussed.

“Ivy,” he said. “Would you like to read Hannah a bedtime story?”

My cheeks hurt I smiled so hard. “Only if she wants me to.”

Here we were speaking in code when the five-year old was more direct.

“Yes!” She grabbed my hand and tugged me toward her room. “Uncle Connor can make us pancakes in the morning,” she said as we stomped up the stairs. “He makes the best chocolate chip pancakes…”

I glanced over my shoulder, finding Connor staring up at us from the bottom of the stairs. The grin on his face was pure mischief, a promise that made my spine tingle.

An hour later, I was floating in the air, something warm and strong beneath me.

I jolted awake to find myself cradled against Connor’s chest.

“Ohmygod,” I whispered. “I’m sorry!”

He furrowed his brow, glancing down at me as he walked us into his bedroom. “What are you sorry for?”

“I fell asleep cuddling with Hannah.” I facepalmed myself. After three unicorn stories, she’d asked me to lay with her for a little bit. I couldn’t say no to the puppy-eyes she’d flashed, and the next thing I knew…floating.

He sat me gently on his bed, and suddenly I was very much awake. Something fierce and powerful churned in his eyes, which he trailed slowly over my fully clothed body. The look was intimate enough that I felt naked, exposed, desirable.

“I honestly didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, a strong arm on either side of me, his nose tracing the edge of my neck. “You wouldn’t have been comfortable in that bed all night, though.”

“So you brought me to yours,” I said, breathless. His scent, his warmth, all swirled around me creating a buzzing ache between my thighs.

“I want you here,” he said, almost like it was a confession.

We’d never slept together when Hannah was in the home. With her asleep across the hall…it would mean something.

“Ivy,” he whispered my name, his hand now on my cheek, his eyes locked with mine. “Will you stay with me?”

My heart fluttered in my chest, and for some dumb reason, tears burned my eyes.

“You want me to?” I asked because I needed him to say it twice.

“Yes,” he said, brushing his lips over mine with a feather-light touch, eliciting a gasp from me. “I want you…” He kissed me harder. “In my bed.” Another kiss. “In my home.” Another. “In my life.”

My chest rose and fell from the way his lips worked over mine.

“I want you, Ivy,” he continued. “To be mine.” He gently nudged his legs between my knees, kissing me until my spine hit the mattress. He pulled back, hovering over me, the muscles in his arms rippling.

“Okay,” I whispered, trailing my hands over the center of his broad chest.

A spark flashed in his eyes, and he crushed his lips on mine, parting them with his tongue, flicking the edges of my teeth until I arched against him.

“Say it,” he demanded, lifting up enough so I could tug his shirt over his head. I tossed it to the floor, taking in every glorious inch of his smooth skin. “Say it, Ivy,” he said again, this time more of a plea as he stood and rid himself of his pants and then mine, leaving us in nothing but our underwear.

When he came back to the bed, I locked my ankles around his hips and yanked until I’d flipped our positions, me now straddling him. The fact that he’d yielded to my touch—allowing me to top him—sent warm shivers up my core. I gripped the hem of my shirt, sliding it off and sending it to join his on the floor. His hands were instantly on my lace covered breasts, kneading as his hips rose slightly, enough to show me just how much he wanted me.

I rocked my hips over him, teasing him over his briefs as I moved his hands to the center of my chest.

“I’m yours,” I said, holding his hands there but still rolling myself over him.

He trembled at my words, every inch of his body tight and hard, like a spring ready to burst. Rising up, we were nose to nose, our quickened breaths mingling. Despite the thin fabric barrier separating us, I’d never felt closer to someone in my entire life as he slid his hand into the waves of my hair and kissed me so tenderly I melted against him.

He kissed me like I was precious to him, valued, loved.

He kissed me perfectly, with enough heat and wildness to make me writhe against him.

And I drank him in, his taste, his smoky citrus scent, the way he made me ache in places I’d never known I could ache—body and soul.

Connor shifted enough to reach a hand between us, guiding it over my breasts, and lower, until he teased me over the lace.

“Ivy,” he said my name before nipping at my bottom lip. His fingers slipping beneath the lace. “God, you’re perfect.” He rolled his fingers in my heat, circling that bundle of nerves that made me buck against his hand. Sliding one finger in, then two, I stretched around him, gasping at the way he pulsed his fingers inside me. My entire being focused on the feel of him, the way I was completely at his mercy.

I moved on him, and his eyes never strayed from mine as he watched me, the intensity of his gaze more intimate than I’d ever experienced. And I didn’t dare blink, not as I shamelessly rode his hand, arching and rolling and gasping as he worked me into a frenzy. Shoving me toward the edge until I clenched around him.

On the cusp of explosion, I threw my head back, and the man…moved.

I whimpered from the lack of him as he gripped my hips and spun me on the bed until my back hit the comforter that crumpled around us.

“Connor,” I practically growled.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, moving toward his closet, leaving me pulsing on the bed.

“Not if you don’t get back here,” I snapped.

He returned quickly, a familiar pair of fuzzy handcuffs dangling from fingers that were soaked with me.

A thrill traveled down the center of me.

“Do you trust me?” He asked again, and my heart was pounding so hard I could only nod as he climbed onto the bed. “Say it.”

“Yes,” I whispered, and he flashed me that mischievous grin as he slowly, gently secured me to his bed frame.

“You’re mine, Ivy,” he said, his breath hot against my swollen flesh as lowered himself to peel the lace from my legs. I instinctively reached for him, but my wrists hit the soft barrier, leaving me completely at his mercy.

“Oh God, yes!” I screamed when he unleashed his tongue on me, feasting on me with no gentleness but pure hunger that matched my cravings. His tongue slid between my heat, flattened and flicking and swirling as I bucked against him with thrusts of my hips.

Wild.

Electric.

Explosive.

Every sense heightened to a new degree with the lack of my hands, as if binding me had unlocked some primal portion of my soul that both submitted and awoke only for him.

I lost all coherent thought as he took me beyond the edge, through an orgasm and straight into another, so fast my head swam and spun and bubbles popped under every inch of my skin.

And only when he’d licked my flavor clean did he rise up and slip those briefs off, his beautifully hard cock springing free of its cage.

Limp, my body was limp.

A wolfish smirk shaped the lips that had just devoured me.

“Do you feel submissive or worshiped?” He asked as  he pressed his palms against my knees, spreading me as wide as I could possibly go.

“Worshiped,” I said, breathless, my mind traveling back to our conversation all those months ago when he’d assured me there was nothing submissive about allowing yourself to be handcuffed. “You were right,” I continued. “I was having sex with the wrong people. Nothing compares to this. To you.”

“Oh,” he said, smirking. “I’m just getting started. He took his time eyeing me, trailing the length of my body with the look of a man who knew he owned me wholly. It made me come alive with heat and want and love.

He nudged my entrance with the tip of his cock, his eyes on fire as he watched the spot where we joined. A glance at me, and I nodded.

Then he sheathed himself inside me, so deep I moaned without thinking.

But he was there, folding himself over me, kissing me, swallowing the sound like he wanted to drink me in. He pumped harder, both of us struggling to keep our sounds inside so we didn’t wake the sleeping child across the hall.

I yanked against my bonds as I felt him harden more within my walls, and bit his lip to force him to look at me.

“You’re mine, too,” I whispered.

“Completely,” he growled.

And I clenched around him, the throes of my orgasm so intense and strong it drew his from him too. His final thrusts were hard and sweet with a bite of pain that made my eyes roll back in my head. Until he collapsed on top of my breasts, his deliciously sweaty body rock hard above me.

Nothing but the sound of our heated breaths filled the room. He gently cleaned us up, unfastened my handcuffs, and tucked my back against his chest before locking one arm around my hip and the other under my neck, his hand between my breasts.

Sleep claimed me, heavy and blissful and utterly lovely.