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“Do you think we could bring Millie out tomorrow night and make s’mores?” she asks.
Why didn’t I think of that?
“Great idea,” I say. “I’ll make sure I’ve got the stuff here.”
She tilts her head and gazes up at me.
My eyes lock with hers and don’t let go.
The blanket falls off us when she wraps her arms around my neck and hoists herself up, closer to my face.
Kissing her out here, in front of the entire city, feels like the most natural act in the world.
Her mouth tastes like peppermint and light and I want more.
Reese repositions herself, straddling my lap, brushing the tip of my dick through my pants.
Shit.
She pushes her tongue further into my mouth, fluttering against mine, and I lavish it with a wolfish groan.
Even through our fabric, her pussy radiates soft, pliable heat. I know if I reached into her shorts, I’d find her fucking soaked for me.
I could take her right here.
I could flip her over faster than I could blink, tear her bottoms off, and bury myself in her, but I won’t.
Not tonight. Not like this. Not even if it brings relief from this eternal tease.
She eases away, chest heaving, her bottom lip quivering.
“Nick.” My name comes out of her with a weight, more moan than spoken word.
Fuck, I want to do appalling things with her mouth.
Too bad this woman thinks there’s something redeemable about me. I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best tonight. For her.
So we cuddle and doze together, lost in this timeless night of cool restraint and flaring heat.
I don’t come out of the trance until she’s illuminated by an orange light, her breath falling lightly against my chest.
“Wake up, sweetheart. You’ll miss the sunrise,” I whisper, kissing her forehead.
She turns, swiping at her eyes, to look over the skyline. I lock my arms around her, making sure she doesn’t roll off my lap, keeping her close to me.
The sun slowly lifts over the Chicago horizon, splashing every towering building with a kaleidoscope of mellow light.
“Take a pic with me,” I say, smiling into the dawn.
“Why?”
“Because moments like these are that rare.”
She looks at me in wonder, her eyes searching mine.
I reach for my pocket. My phone isn’t there. I left it on my nightstand.
“Do you have your phone?”
“No. I woke up to you and Millie talking and went to check on her. I didn’t even think about grabbing it,” she says.
Damn.
I’m not ruining this moment over a phone. It’s too perfect, even if there won’t be anything to capture it.
After a minute, she asks, “Were you going to take a picture?”
I pick up a strand of her hair and rub it between my thumb and forefinger.
“I don’t have my phone either.”
“You can go get it.”
“Nah. I’m too happy where I am.”
“Well. I’m happy where you are too.” She turns to me again, her sky-blue eyes trained on mine.
Cupping her face with my hand, I lean down and devour her lips again, prolonging the best torture of my life.
If I think of it as a glimpse, a preview, a promise that I’ll survive.
I will have Reese Halle under me very soon.
She drifts off again in my arms just before the soft sunlight reaches us. I pick her up, carry her inside, and lay her down in her original guest bed with Millie, who’s still blissfully passed out.
If I’m lucky, I’ll catch a few hours of shut-eye before I start my day.
Reese sleeps peacefully, those lips I’m still hurting to ignite twitching gently.
If every morning started like this, with her next to me, looking like the dream she is now, I’d give up my dream in my head.
I’d give up so much for this woman—for them—it fucking scares me.
19
Gone With The Rain (Reese)
My heart beats overtime as I wait for Nick to exit Brandt Dreams so we can pick up Millie and head home to his penthouse.
Home? Am I really calling it that?
Of course, it’s where we’re staying until we figure out what Will wants and there’s no danger, and I’ve been there for several days, buuut...
I catch my wide-eyed reflection in the mirror and forget to breathe.
I’m falling so fast and so hard it’s dizzying.
My worries vanish the instant I see him approaching. He’s early. I thought it would’ve taken him at least another hour in there.
Nick stalks through the rain, a militant stride in every step on his long, powerful legs.
He doesn’t head for the back door. He climbs right in the passenger seat and takes my hand.
“You should still sit in the back when we’re on the clock,” I say, trying not to smile. “You know, so we can keep up appearances.”
“Darling, do you remember how you kissed me this morning? Before we left the apartment?”
“Um. Maybe.” My breath stalls.
Like I could ever forget.
He only set my everything on fire from head to toe. Just having my hand in his reminds me of the sizzle, the muscle memory of how his tongue rakes mine.
