I only had one answer, the first one.
But it was enough for now.
Chapter Twelve
One month later I turned my car, now with a new tire, into the driveway of Dylan’s small house. Poose was in the dog run, and she yipped when she saw me, jumping like a kangaroo trying to leap with fence with her exuberance.
Dylan was at the door before I was all the way up the walk. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he watched me approach, his expression unreadable and yet somehow still friendly.
“Hi,” I said nervously, my stomach dancing with happy little butterflies. Through the entire drive from Frenchglen I told myself how stupid it was to be nervous. This was the man who had seen me at my absolute lowest and still somehow wanted me.
But a month was a long time. He hadn’t been happy when I’d told him about it, but he’d understood that I needed the time away.
But talking on the phone, texting, emailing—it wasn’t the same as seeing each other face to face.
What if he’d changed his mind.
“Hey,” he smiled at me, that sexy curve of the lips that did funny things to my insides. I took the hand that he held out, savouring the sensation of his palm pressed against mine.
“Wow.” I followed him into the kitchen, taking in details that somehow didn’t surprise me much anymore. The slate gray paint, the baseboards that still gave off a faint aroma of freshly cut wood, the hardwood floors that were sticky with fresh varnish.
Someone had given this house a lot of love. And I knew without asking that that person had been Dylan. Over the last month I’d come to understand how deeply Ella’s death had affected him, how much he’d wanted to distance himself from the shit that had dragged her down.
Really, we hadn’t reacted all that differently, the two of us. We’d both been startled into a metamorphosis by grief, and were just now coming out of our cocoons and seeing who we really were.
“Tell me that’s spaghetti.” My mouth watered when Dylan led me into a small kitchen done in shades of blue. It was clearly a masculine room, but it was tidy and looked like he actually used it.
“It is.” He grinned at me, his expression almost shy. “I wanted to do something nice for your first night back. You deserve it.”
“Oh, you are so getting lucky for this, McKay,” I smiled back flirtatiously. I was joking, just teasing him, but when his expression darkened with desire my mouth went dry.
“The sauce will keep.” He approached me slowly, intent clear on his face.
“I—” I wanted him... oh God, but I wanted him. Apart from some interesting phone calls, I hadn’t even kissed him in a month.
And we hadn’t ever done what I thought we were about to do. My nerves made me tremble, but there wasn’t any kind of decision to make. Not even if part of me thought that we should maybe sit down and talk, or something, first.
I wanted this. I wanted him.
“Where?” I whispered, my voice hoarse. I cried out when he lifted me right off my feet, carrying me just like heroes did in movies.
I didn’t pay any attention at all to the rest of the house as he strode down the hall and into a bedroom.
“Kaylee.” He slid me down his body until I knelt on the bed while he stood, pressed against me. His fingers danced over my cheeks, my eyes, my jaw, my hair, like he was trying to reacquaint himself with my body.
I watched through half lidded eyes, awed by the expression on his face.
Slowly, gently, he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss would have been chaste if not for the fire behind it, and I felt my breath quicken at the contact.
Eager, I clasped the hem of his T-shirt in my hands and tugged. When he tugged the garment over his head, I stripped away my own top. When his stare landed on my breasts, plumped up as they were in a pale pink lace bra, I shivered as though he had touched them with his hands.
“Beautiful.” Slowly but with a sure touch, he traced his fingers over the upper swells of my flesh, into my cleavage, and then finally, finally over my aching nipples.
Growling, he reached around my back and tugged at the clasp of my bra. Laughing breathlessly, I twisted to help him with the finicky clasp. After a long, frustrating moment the garment fell away, and we were skin to skin, the hardness of his chest abrading the sensitive tips of my breasts.
“I want to taste you.” Dipping his head, he drew one of the points into his mouth. I cried out, my back arching, as he lightly scraped his teeth over the tender flesh.
“Dylan—I want—” My brain short circuiting with sensation, I fumbled for the button at his waist. “I can’t go slow. I want you so bad.”
“Thank God for that.” He mumbled around my nipple. His touches became faster, more urgent as he helped me undoing his pants, then did the same for the shorts that I was wearing.
The garments fell to the floor. I sucked in a breath when he pressed me back against the bed and I discovered that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
All that was separating our flesh was the thin cotton of my thong, and it wasn’t much of a barrier—it was already damp with my need.
“Kaylee, if you want to stop, this is the time to say so.” Dylan moaned when, instead of pulling back, I slid my hands between our bodies. I splayed my hand over his chest, moved down to the flat of his belly...
When I curled a tentative hand around his erection, his body tensed like a cannon about to go off.
Liking his reaction, I tightened my grip and moved my hand up and down. The muscles in the arms that braced him above me were strained, and I couldn’t quite believe that it was me making him feel this way.
“Stop,” he finally rasped out. “You have to stop or it’s going to be all over.”
Obediently I removed my hand, but couldn’t stop the upward thrust of my hips.
I wanted him, and I didn’t think I could wait any longer. The build up between us had been years in the making, and I was more sure of this than I had been of anything in my life.
“Don’t move.” Stretching that long body out on top of me, Dylan reached for something on his bedside table. Clasping it between his teeth, he tugged at the packet until the foil ripped.
He spat the wrapper aside, then knelt back on his heels to slide the condom over his erection.
“Dylan.” I watched, breathless, at the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. Once the latex covered him to the root, he hooked a finger in each side of my thong and slowly, slowly drew the scrap of fabric down my legs.
I was naked. He was naked.
I hummed my approval, fisting my hands in the covers of his bed. I wanted him more than I wanted my next breathe.
“Are you sure?” As he spoke, he trailed a finger up the inside of my thigh. I nodded my affirmative, vibrating beneath the touch.
Then his touch moved to the hot space between my legs. I cried out as he slid it back and forth, rubbing over my clit then dipping inside.
“I want to be here,” he said, his voice solemn. His fingers did something wicked and I writhed beneath him.
“Will you let me in?”
“God, yes!” Frantic, I arched into the touch. I heard him chuckle, and then felt my legs being spread wider.
His fingers left my heat, and I moaned at the loss, but it was replaced almost instantly by the head of his erection.
I looked up at him, into his eyes, as he slowly slid inside of me. He looked right back, and something clicked into place as we joined.
This—us together—this was just about perfect.
“I don’t know if I can go slow,” Dylan whispered hoarsely as he drew back, then pushed back in. I whimpered, it felt so good, and clasped my fingers into his lean hips.
“Don’t,” I replied, and my voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. “Do whatever you need to. This is perfect.”
We rocked into one another, the pace slowly building up momentum until we thrust frantically, searching for that final moment of perfection.
His body tighte
ned on top of mine. I felt a surge of smugness, wanting more than anything to get him there.
“Come for me,” I widened my stance, taking him as deeply as I could.
He shook his head, braced himself on one elbow, and slid his hand to the place where we were joined.
“Not until you do.” I think I might have screamed when his fingers again found my clit. I’d been so close already, just from the intensity of it all. But he played me with fingers that were completely attentive, and within minutes my body tightened and I cried out, clenching around him.
He followed me moments later, thrusting once, twice, then burying himself inside of me with a groan.
When he finally pulled out and collapsed beside me, I curled into him, placing my hand over the place where his heart beat thumped, strong and steady.
This was where I wanted to be.
***
We lay there until the sweat on our bodies dried and our skin cooled, just running hands over one another, enjoying the togetherness. Finally I cleared my throat and said the words that had been circling my mind ever since my sanity had returned.
“I declared a major,” I held my breath as I waited for his response.
“Oh, yeah?” Propping his head on his hand, he studied me intently as his free hand traced through my curls, which by now were a sex snarled mess. “And?”
He couldn’t quite contain the small smile, but I had one of my own.
“Nursing,” I said. It was the first time I’d said it out loud, and it felt just right. “I’m going to be a nurse. An ER nurse, I think.”
“That’s perfect for you.” He continued to stroke my hair, and I nuzzled into the touch like a kitten.
He paused before speaking again.
“You know, the hospital in Portland is always advertising that they need nurses.”
I tensed, then forced myself to relax. Was he asking about what I thought he was asking about.
“They do,” I tried to keep my voice light, but my heart was pounding with anticipation. “But it’s two hours away from here.”
“Bet they need firefighters there, too.” His voice was casual, but I heard the unasked question beneath it.
I hid the surge of emotion by burying my face into his chest.
“I still have a year away,” I whispered, my chest tightening painfully. “It doesn’t make sense to transfer for my final year. I’d lose credits.”
He kissed the top of my head, then coaxed me out of my hiding spot against his chest.
“We can get through a year, Kaylee. I love you.”
This time I couldn’t suppress a grin. I sat up straight and beamed down into his face.
“I love you, too.” My voice was giddy, and he grinned at my exuberance.
His voice was throaty and full of emotion when he spoke again, and the words wrapped around me like a hug.
“We can get through forever.”
Epilogue
I stood by the waters of Fish Lake, in the town I’d once sworn never to return to. My sister was on my mind. It was time for me to finally say goodbye.
Ella had drowned in four inches of water, weighed down by drugs and the gray shadows of depression. It was enough to make a person fear a lake, but this body of water reminded me of my childhood.
It reminded me of the way Ella had once been. As I watched the sun set over the lake, I forgot about her sickness, her troubles, and just remembered the girl who had once been my other half.
My twin.
Thanks to this summer, I had come to terms with the fact that a part of her would never be completely gone. She would live on in me, in my mom, in the minds of everyone whose life she’d ever touched.
She would live on in Dylan, the man who had dared to love me against all odds.
And I was finally free, free of the guilt, the shame, the need to prove myself.
I was free to be me. Life was short, but mine stretched out before me, a blank slate just waiting to be written on.
And I couldn’t wait.
Want another tale from Safe Haven?
Check out Love Me Twice, available now!
Jax Kennedy isn’t interested in girls.
Kayla Connor isn’t just some girl, though—she’s his best friend Nick’s girlfriend. That means hands off, even if she’d been his type.
But there’s a little something between Kayla and Jax—and Nick knows it. When he asks Jax to be part of a wild experiment involving all three of them, Jax knows he should say no.
But what do you do when the guy you’ve secretly loved forever and the only woman to ever catch your eye both want you?
Well. That’s complicated.
About the Author
Lauren Hawkeye is a proud Canadian who loves beer, coffee, kickboxing and books. She loves to hear from her readers. She writes New Adult romance and falls a little bit in love with each hero that she writes.
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