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I take a bite of my sandwich, chewing in silence.
“Is it any good?” he asks for a moment.
“It’s great.” I pick up a chip, nibbling on it.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he muses. “You’re not regretting things are you?”
My head shoots in his direction. “No, but I’m worried you are.”
The breath that leaves him is a mighty gust. Setting his plate to the side, he turns to me. His lips are a thin line as he looks down at his hands, flexing them in and out of fists. I wait for him to say something, biting my own tongue.
“I should be.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “But I’m not.” He finally looks at me head on, and even though it’s dark I can see in his eyes that he means it. “Fuck, it’s so wrong.” He drops his head, shaking it. “But nothing has ever felt as right as it does when I’m with you. The second you walk into a room, I’m aware. It’s like my body knows and senses you. I’ve never experienced anything like it before.” He grinds his teeth together. “It makes me angry, because you’re young, Dani. So much younger than me. You might think eleven years isn’t a lot, but it’s more than a decade, and believe me we do a lot of growing and changing in that time. I’m so afraid my feelings for you are going to rob you of something.”
I put my plate down, grabbing his hands in mine. It tears me apart how tortured he looks. “You can’t force me to feel the things I do. That’s all me. You have no idea how crazy I’ve felt crushing on you. It feels so cliché—the sexy older guy, but feelings aren’t a faucet you can turn on and off. They just are.”
He pulls his hands from my mine. I can’t even feel the sting of rejection before he’s touching my cheek, stroking his thumb tenderly against the curve.
He leans in slowly, eyes on mine, looking for any hint of hesitation from me, but I give him none. Our eyes close in the same second. In another his lips are on mine. It’s dangerously wrong, but undeniably right.
The next thing I know he’s sliding off the counter and I’m in his arms once more.
I wrap around him, never breaking the touch of his mouth, as he carries me through the apartment and to his bedroom.
I hear Zeppelin’s nails on the hard floor following us, but Lachlan manages to close the door, shutting him out.
He sits down on the bed, and my legs fall on either side of him, pressing into the mattress. I feel him lengthen beneath me again.
He maneuvers me so I’m lying flat on his bed, head pressed to the pillow, with him above me. His body heat swathes me, and it feels like nothing else exists outside of the two of us.
My hands find their way under his shirt, skimming the hard planes of his muscles. He sits up, reaching back to hook his thumbs into the collar and yanks it off. He kisses me again, his tongue twining with mine.
One of his hands touches my hip, hesitantly feathering beneath my shirt. He traces a circle around my belly button before withdrawing. I wiggle my hips, grinding into his pelvis.
“You can take it off,” I practically beg.
He rolls off me, but before I can feel the sting of his loss he pulls my body against his large frame so I’m practically sprawled overtop. Our legs twine together and I lay my left arm over his chest where he promptly tangles our fingers together.
“Why did you stop?” I pant, breathless. “I thought—”
He squeezes my hand against the rapidly beating pulse of his heart. “No.”
“No?” I repeat, hurt coloring my tone.
He angles his head down, and even though I can’t see him clearly in the pitch-black bedroom I feel the weight of his gaze. “Because I’m not about to fuck you like some horny teenage boy that can’t control himself. You mean more to me than that.” His other hand finds my cheek. He brushes the back of his fingers over my sensitive flesh. “The best things in life are meant to be savored. Treasured.” He swallows, clearing his throat. His fingers wiggle slightly in mine from nerves. “The thoughts I have about you break so many fucking rules. If I’m going to hell for this, I want to do it thoroughly. I want to take my time. I want to explore every crevice of your body with my tongue and pluck your thoughts like a guitar string. I want to know the ins and outs of what you love and why you love it. I want to know the most sensitive parts of your body, what makes you moan my name and beg for more. I’m a selfish bastard, Dandelion Meadows, and I want every fucking part of you.”
I don’t reply, not with words anyway.
Instead, I kiss him.
You already have me.
When he kisses me back, his lips say I know.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Waking up in Lachlan’s arms is the last thing I expect, and for a moment I think it’s a dream. I try to stay burrowed in the sweet clasp of sleep, but it won’t hold me any longer. I blink my eyes open and as Lachlan’s room comes into view in the morning light the night before comes rushing back to me. A slow smile tickles my lips and I bite down, trying to keep it contained. I don’t know why, since he’s still sound asleep, his soft breaths caressing my exposed neck.
His front is wrapped around my back, our legs twined. One of his arms rests between my breasts. I worry that when he wakes up he’ll be ashamed to find himself in this position with me, but I can’t bring myself to regret what transpired between us last night. Every touch, kiss, and intimate moment is something I’ll cherish forever. As much as I wanted more, I’m glad now he didn’t give in, because it’ll be all the much sweeter when it happens. And I know, without a doubt, it will.
