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“And how is that bad? When did I ever give you the impression I didn’t want to be wrapped up in it? You do get that, right? You do understand that you don’t get to decide what’s bad and what’s good for me. Right?”
“I just want to keep you—”
Her face turned red. “Damn it, Clint. Cut the shit for a second! I want to be with you. Really be with you. How the hell is that a bad thing? You aren’t your father. I know you think you are, but you aren’t. You aren’t a culmination of the bad things that have happened to you. You're just you. Why can’t you see that? Why are you punishing me because you can’t see that?”
I stood there, dumbfounded as she reached for my hand. She took it and threaded our fingers together. An action I hadn’t had the balls to do myself. She softly tugged me inside. And after she closed it, she held my hand tightly, physically refusing to let go as I looked down into her gorgeous eyes.
Eyes I had missed.
“You’re all I want, Clint. And whatever life comes with you, I’ll weather it. Because that’s what people do when they care about each other. And I care about you. I always will.”
My eyes danced between hers. I felt so shell-shocked by her words that I couldn't move. She rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips softly against mine. I froze. I didn’t pucker my lips or flinch as her hand slid up my arms. I tried to stand my ground for as long as possible. I tried to resist her warmth and her loving demeanor and her perfect words.
Until I couldn't any longer.
“Just let me have you. That’s all I’m asking,” she whispered.
Settling my hands against her hips, I backed her against the door as my tongue invaded her mouth.
18
Raelynn
My God, how I missed him. His kiss. His touch. His forceful nature. And when his hands fell to my hips, I opened my mouth for him. I felt his tongue slide across the roof of my mouth and I could have cried.
He ripped my shirt off and kissed down my neck. I managed to slip off his jacket and wondered where his leather one had gotten off to. Clothes came off in a flurry as his lips slid down to my chest. Kissing and sucking. His teeth sank into my skin and marked me as my hands slid through his hair.
It had grown so long, and I loved it.
I slid my hands down his back. He buried his face into my cleavage. His warmth encompassed me as his hands slid up and down the backs of my legs. I panted with need for him. I had to have him. And as he picked me up, he slung me over his shoulder, my eyes level with his lower back as he carried me into the living room.
But not before cracking his hand against my ass.
“Clint!”
He growled as he tossed me to the couch. I watched him with wild eyes as he slid out of the rest of his clothes. Those rippling muscles came into view before he ravaged my body, pulling off the rest of my clothes. I was bare, naked underneath him as his lips crashed back to mine. The heady feeling I got from his body settling against mine turned my brain to mush. I raked my fingernails across his skin. He kissed down my stomach before shifting me how he wanted me. And with my back melting into the couch cushions, he knelt between my legs.
Before diving into my body.
I moaned. “Clint, yes.”
His tongue parted me and my back arched. My hands twisted into his hair as he stroked me to a constant high. He kept me on the edge. Teasing me. Filling me with his fingers. Stroking those wondrous parts of me I had ached for him to touch. My legs wrapped around his head. My heels dug into his shoulders. He drank from my fountain as I poured forth for him, ravenously bucking against his face. Feeling his stubble against my lower lips. Feeling his hands meander up my curves until he massaged my breasts.
“Clint. Clint. Clint. Clint.”
His name fell from my lips like a desperate prayer. And as my body locked out, I spiraled into a darkened abyss. I felt like I was floating and sinking at the same time. Light burst behind my eyes before being swallowed up by the darkness. My toes curled as he buried his tongue between my lo
wer lips and my nails raked along his scalp. He held me to him. Drank every ounce of arousal I offered him.
And when I collapsed, heaving for air, he kissed my inner thighs.
A trail of wetness followed his lips as he kissed up my body. My arms fell to the side, unable to move. I shivered with anticipation, puckering my lip as I waited for him to press against me once more, pick me up and mold me however he wanted, so long as it made him happy.
But he didn’t kiss me with the fury he did before.
His lips softly captured mine and I tasted myself on him. He wrapped his arms around me and effortlessly picked me up. He swung me around, settling himself on the couch as I straddled him. I sank against him, resting my naked body against his muscles. My curves dripped into the divots of his strength. I gasped for air against the crook of his neck. His hands massaged my back. My thighs, my hips, until I was strong enough to lift my head.
“Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” I whispered.
