Low Sided by A.J. Downey (best detective novels of all time txt) 📕

“Don’t worry about any of that, it’s just window dressing,” he soothed. “Tell me how you feel.”

“Loved,” I said quickly, rushing it out before I lost my nerve, swallowing hard right on the heels of that one little word, tears threatening to spring to my eyes. “I’ve never felt that before, from anyone, until you,” I said, looking up into his eyes, startled to realize they were smiling.

“Good,” he said evenly and nodded slowly and slightly awkwardly. I kind of froze, blushing, glad for the dark and that it likely hid the color in my cheeks.

Did he just—? Did he just agree with me? Was he saying he loved me?

Holy shit.

My eyes did well then and his smile which had been small, grew just a little and he twisted his head on his neck and pressed his lips squarely to my forehead. I melted from that touch. That gesture that made me feel so small and so safe and so… loved. If only he knew what it did to me. That every time he did it, I lost just that little bit more of my heart to his capable hands.

“You make me so weak,” I confessed softly, and he chuckled.

“Impossible,” he whispered. “You’re incredibly strong, one of the strongest people I think I’ve ever known.”

I shook my head against him, and he laughed outright at that and said, “Going to have to agree to disagree on that one, darlin’.” He cuddled me just a little bit tighter.

We lay in silence for a time and the burning urgency of just needing to know, of wanting to hear it but also being terrified to hear the answer might be no was just ravaging me, forcing me to look up at him, prompting him to look down at me.

“What?” he asked, and a lump formed in my throat.

“Do you?” I squeaked, so afraid the answer would be ‘no’ and yet not knowing what to do if the answer was ‘yes.’

“Love you?” he asked me evenly, and his face was steely, unreadable. I couldn’t trust my voice and simply nodded dumbly.

“Not sure how you couldn’t know by now, but yes. I love you. I wouldn’t do half the things I’ve done for and with someone I didn’t.” He rolled, half taking me with him and I went with it, giving no resistance when he nudged my knees apart with one of his own as he held himself over me; pressing down on top of me. It wasn’t oppressive, the way he held himself above me. It was wonderful. Safe, sweet, and protective.

I stared up at him in wonder as he stroked the side of my face, his other arm buried behind me, holding me lovingly as he looked over my face.

“Just look at you,” he murmured softly and the wonder in his eyes. Gods above and below, I felt so beautiful with the way he looked at me. This man, he looked at me with the reverence you reserved for such works of art as the Mona Lisa. Not for some poor as fuck Burner chick from the fringe.

Of course, maybe that’s why we fit. Broken in some similar ways, both of us from the fringe; from the outskirts of a society that didn’t care, that overlooked us until we were a problem, that thought nothing of us unless we were squarely in their way.

“I love you, too,” I whispered, emotion welling hot and fresh, overwhelmingly so. I put my arms around him, and he crushed my mouth with his. Hungry, as though he were devouring my words, swallowing my love whole, and he acted as though it would be enough to sustain him for the centuries to come.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down even closer. He folded elegantly, like an origami crane, all sharp points and angles, perched above me protectively, ready to slash with sharp wit any and all who came near wishing any sort of harm.

I don’t think I had ever had any occasion to feel so safe and at once so afraid. I knew Mace could be a dangerous man, and it was like I lay here, maybe not with a paper crane but rather a paper tiger or some other big cat in my lap, softly purring in that big cat way that was difficult to differentiate whether it was indeed a purr or a growl… but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t hurt me.

No, the predatory sheen that cloaked him, rippling through his musculature beneath my palms had nothing to do with harm. His hunger was carnal in nature, sure, but it was an appetite for pleasure and he wasn’t so much about his own as he was mine. He’d proven that time and time again, and though I was positively exhausted, there was no way I could resist. I wanted, needed him inside of me just as much as he wanted and needed to be there.

He was slow, the connection between us fathoms deeper than anything I had ever known with anyone else as he slid his hard length against me looking for purchase. We both threw our heads back and sighed, shuddering in sweet surrender and tandem as he slipped inside of me, filling me gently, pressing out against my walls which ached to have him there, trembling finely around him and through me at his presence as though he was coming home, even though we’d just been doing this very same thing less than an hour before.

This was different. The connection raw and unveiled, like each of us were a live wire, touching, sparking fire, the heat building to a rosy glow between us. A glow that felt and for the longest time was sustainable with no end in sight.

His deep brown eyes looked deep into mine, soul deep and even deeper still to the fragment of stardust at the center of my being that I felt we were all made of