The climax swept through me like a herd of raging bulls. They trampled over the vast grass, their hooves bringing up clouds of dusty earth. All inside me, they raged, as I took from this woman’s body what I needed. What I craved.

I love you.

Fuck. I love you.

Then a voice. A sweet melodic voice. The voice of my angel.

“You… You love me?”

Reality hit me in the head like a boulder tumbling from a mountain.

You love me?

God, yes. I loved her. But had I said it? Out loud?

Fuck! It was too soon. She’d go running. She’d go running far away from me.

My cock slid out of her and I placed her gently on my bed. What to say? What could I say?

It was the truth. I loved her.

She looked up at me, her eyes innocent and questioning.

And I melted.

“Yeah, silver. Yeah. I love you. I really love you.”

I hoped for a smile.

I didn’t get one.

She bit on her lower lip as it trembled. Finally, she spoke. “I didn’t come.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s not what I mean. I mean… Oh, shit. I don’t know what I mean.”

“You don’t have to say it back.” Except that you do. Please say it back.

“I…”

I sat down next to her. “You don’t have—”

She reached forward and pressed two fingers against my lips. “I know. I actually…want to say it back. But it’s only been…”

I kissed her lips softly. “I know.”

“Are you sure?” she asked timidly.

“Silver, I’ve never been more sure of anything. I can promise you that.”

No truer words. I was unsure of pretty much everything in my brain…except for the fact that I loved this beautiful woman.

“I…”

“Silver.”

“I want to say it back. I wasn’t lying.”

“I know. If you want to say it back, that means you’re feeling it, right?”

She nodded shyly.

“Then I can wait. You say it when you’re ready.”

Funny thing was, I wasn’t ready myself. It had come out on its own. I’d only been thinking the words, or so I’d thought.

She looked down at her blouse. “What am I going to wear to work?”

“We’ll go shopping.”

“At seven-thirty in the morning?”

“Right. Well…you can wear one of my shirts.”

“Your shirts will hang on me.”

Yeah, she was right. “Your skirt is okay. A little wrinkled, but okay. You just need…” I stood and walked over to my closet. I didn’t have a vast wardrobe like Reid did. My clothing consisted mostly of jeans, shirts, T-shirts, and paint smocks. A few pairs of shorts. And of course those ten damned suits that I hated wearing.

I looked through my shirts, and—

“Here.” I held up a red women’s shirt. “This will work.”