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I hold my breath as he kisses my bottom lip, then lightly brushes his tongue across it. Oh… I close my eyes, a soft moan escaping my lips as my nipples harden in my bra and I clench deep inside.
He lifts his head a fraction, and I feel his breath across my lips.
“You’re unraveling me again,” he says, a tad resentfully, grudgingly. His big body is pressed up against mine, and when he speaks, it’s like holding a tuning fork up to my ear, sending vibrations through my bones, making my body hum.
I swallow and moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. “I’m sorry,” I say, even though I’m not. I can smell his cologne, and the way he’s teasing me with his mouth just inches from mine is making me dizzy.
“You’re a bad girl,” he says.
I lift my gaze to his. “Wanna spank me?”
He stares at me, and then we both laugh.
“Jesus,” he says, moving back, “Will you please go inside?”
“Yeah, all right.” I take out my key, slide it in the lock, and open the door. Dad and Sherry will both be in bed by now, so I need to be quiet. “Well, have a good day tomorrow.”
“You too.” He steps back out. I lean against the door jamb as he turns to face me and slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I’m almost level with his eyes now. I love that he’s a big guy. Imagine having him on top of you, pressing you into the mattress. Ooh.
“Thank you,” I say as graciously as I can. “For so many things. For saving me from Cole. For driving me all this way. For letting me drive the Jag. For talking to me about everything. And for…” My voice trails off as I look into his eyes.
“You’re welcome.” He gives me a boyish smile. Despite his talk about being older than me, he’s still very young, only twenty-six.
“When’s your birthday?” I ask, knowing it’s in April.
“Next month,” he confirms. “The nineteenth.” He gestures at my midriff. “How are you feeling now?”
“Not too bad.”
“You take care of yourself, okay?” There’s a glimmer in his eyes. Is he suggesting I take care of myself? My face flushes, and his lips curve up. He was totally suggesting that.
“’Night,” he says, and he turns and walks back up the path to his car. I watch him go, see him get into the Jag, and he waves as he pulls away.
Leaving the boxes and my case by the door, I go through to the kitchen, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, then head to my room. Even though I’m at uni now, Sherry hasn’t touched my room, and it still bears the dark colors, black and purple, that I liked back then, the books I read in my teens, and the clothes I didn’t take with me.
Quietly, I visit the bathroom, then get into bed and stare up at the ceiling thinking about how Damon was so insistent that he wouldn’t risk Alex’s friendship for me, only to follow it up with that sexy kiss.A good girl like you doesn’t want a bad guy like me. I sigh in the darkness and turn onto my side. Did he really do what he did in the car? It feels like a dream. I’d never have believed an orgasm could feel that good. I close my eyes, remembering his husky whispers in my ear, the way he teased my nipple with his other hand. How he said,This is going to be easy as… You’re halfway there already. So confident. So fucking sexy.
I slide into sleep, my dreams filled with his gingerbread-brown eyes.
*
Exhausted from all the emotion and the journey, I sleep right through until eight a.m. I pull on an old pair of PJs from the drawer, visit the bathroom, then go out to the kitchen to discover my father and Sherry getting ready to leave for work—Dad at the local boys’ high school, Sherry at a primary school.
“It’s Rip Van Belle,” Dad says as I walk in. He’s around fifty-four and five-foot-eleven, with hair that’s still brown and thick, although his short beard is almost completely gray.
“Hey you,” I say, going up to him for a big hug.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He squeezes me and plants a kiss on my temple, then releases me so I can go over to Sherry. She’s a few years younger than him, a little curvy, with fluffy blonde hair that bounces around her shoulders and attractive laughter lines at the edges of her eyes. She’s been good for him, and they’re happy together.
“Hey, Belle.” She hugs me too. She’s been like a second mother to me—a better mother than my own, in fact. “Good to see you,” she says.
“It’s great to be here.” I take a bit of toast that’s still in the rack on the kitchen counter and get some jam out of the fridge. “Only four days to go until the big day! How’s Gaby doing?”
“Running around like a chicken without a head,” Dad says cheerfully. Then his smile fades and he exchanges a look with Sherry before saying, “Your mother gets in this morning, by the way.”
I concentrate on spreading the jam over the toast. “Where’s she staying?”
“At The Garden.”
