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.
Lachlan and I are inevitable.
An ocean could separate us and I know deep down we’d still find our way back to each other.
His hand flexes against my stomach and I know he’s seconds from waking.
His thumb rubs in a circle around my belly button where my shirt has ridden up. He lets out a sleepy yawn, burrowing his face into the back of my neck. His stubble scratches my skin and I try not to giggle when it tickles.
Slowly, I roll over to face him. His hand finds it’s way back to my hip, pulling me closer. He blinks his eyes open, the blue becoming brighter as he fully wakes.
“Dani.” My stomach dips at the sensual sound of my name in his deep sleep-thick morning voice.
I brush my finger over one of his dark brows, suddenly shy. “Hi.”
He smiles, those straight white teeth blinking into existence. He grabs my hand, playfully nipping at my fingers before circling our hands together.
I wait for the shoe to drop, for him to realize how wrong this is and shove me out of his bed, his apartment, with anger on his face.
But he keeps looking at me, his eyes feathering over my face like he’s trying to memorize every detail and feature.
Last night, he kissed me in his bed for a long time before he got up to extinguish the candles from the main room. When he returned, we kissed some more, our hands exploring each other’s bodies, but not too much, before we finally fell asleep.
Lachlan cups my cheek and my skin automatically heats from his magnetic touch. My nipples pebble as goosebumps pimple my skin.
“What are you thinking?” I whisper, breaking the silence.
He traces the shape of my lips with the tip of his index finger. “Nothing.” I open my mouth to say I doubt that, when he adds, “I want to remember what this moment looks and feels like. I don’t want to taint it with reality.”
I understand what he means. Placing my hand on the column of his throat, I feel the steady pulse of his heart.
“Can we stay here forever?” I don’t mean to say the words aloud, but somehow they slip out.
The lines beside his eyes deepen for a second with thought. “I wish.” His hand moves down to my hip, staying there. “I need to let Zeppelin out.”
“I don’t want to move.”
“Me either, but life waits for no one.”
I know he’s right. Somehow, we manage to finally move from beneath his warm covers. I try the light on the nightstand, but it doesn’t come on. “Still no power.”
He sighs, tugging on a sweatshirt that was hanging on the doorknob. It’s not as worn in as the one I kept of his. He hasn’t asked for it back. I think he knows it’s mine now.
“I’ll be back.” He opens the door and Zeppelin immediately barrels inside, running from me to Lachlan and back again.
“I better call my brother.”
Lachlan winces at the reminder of my sibling. That truth creeps in as an unwanted stain on the night we spent together. No matter how hard we try, reality is a bitch that won’t stay away.
He gives a single nod before escorting Zeppelin from the room. I follow, watching him tug on his winter coat and leash the dog. He gives me a small, hesitant, almost shy smile before leaving.
I grab my phone from where I ended up leaving it on the couch last night and call Sage.
He answers on the first ring.
“Fuck, Dani, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get home. I have no idea when I’ll be able to leave. The roads are still hell and the power—”
“It’s okay, Herb, don’t worry.” I hope the dorky nickname will help alleviate some of his stress. “I’m fine. Don’t stress. Get home when you can.”
“I will.” A relieved sigh echoes through the phone. “I’ll let you know when I finally get out of here.”
“I love you.”
He’s quiet on the other end for a moment before he returns the sentiment.
I end the call and head back to Lachlan’s bathroom.
After relieving myself, I wash my hands and steal some of his toothpaste. I swipe it on my finger and brush my teeth as best I can. My hair is a wild mess from Lachlan’s fingers. As much as I don’t want to brush away the evidence I know if I don’t my hair will be impossible to deal with later.
Finally feeling a little more human, I leave the bathroom as Lachlan comes back.
I lean against his bedroom doorway as he pauses in the hallway, the two of us staring at each other through the narrow space.
My heart beats with reckless abandon. With every surge it’s saying I belong to you.
Zeppelin runs up to me, forcing me to look down and break eye contact with his owner.
“Hey, buddy.” I bend down, hugging the lovable bear of a dog.
Lachlan clears
his throat. “Did you get ahold of your brother?”
I look up from my crouched position. “Yeah. He’s still stuck at his work. The roads aren’t safe.”
“It’s bad out there.” He scratches his jaw. “I’ll try to figure out something for breakfast.”
“I can help.” He arches a brow and I laugh. “Well, I mean, there’s no power. It’s not like I can burn the place down.” I give a small shrug as I stand up straight.
He cracks a grin. “I’d love your help.”
With one last scratch on Zeppelin’s head I follow Lachlan into the kitchen. He starts pulling things out of the refrigerator, piling them on the counter.
“Do you like avocado toast?” He holds up the fruit … vegetable … whatever it is. “I mean, it’ll be more like avocado on bread since I can’t exactly toast it, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”
I laugh, stealing the avocado from him. My blue nails are bright against the skin of it. “Tell me what to do.”
Lachlan tells me how to cut it and remove the giant seed in the middle. I scoop out the middle of it into a bowl, all while he watches with an amused smile because I’m convinced I’m somehow going to mess up something as simple as this.
We each spread the avocado over the bread, and Lachlan adds some grape tomatoes he cut in half. With a touch of pepper it’s done.
I pick up the non-toasted avocado toast and bite into it. “Not bad,” I compliment, holding a hand in front of my mouth to hide my chewing.
He smiles back, holding out his “toast” for me to cheers mine against.
“We probably should’ve done that before we bit into it, but better late than never.” His eyes sparkle with humor.
I like seeing this relaxed side of him, where he lets his guard down with me.
“Are you visiting your family this Christmas?”
School will be shutting down in less than two weeks for break. It would make sense for him to head back to Arkansas for an extended stay.
He shakes his head. “They’re coming here, actually.”
I look around, like I’m trying to mentally picture his family in his apartment. “That’ll be nice.”
“Mhmm.” He wipes a crumb from his bottom lip.
“You need a tree.”
“A tree?” He repeats, arching a black brow.
“Yeah, a Christmas tree. I mean, Sage and I don’t have one either, but you should get one. You have the perfect spot.” I point to an open area near the windows.
“Why don’t you have one yet?” He leans his hip against the counter, angling his head down.
I give a small shrug, pulling off a bite and sticking it in my mouth. “Sage is busy with work. He ends up having to do stuff from home a lot when he is around.”
“That must suck.”
I arch a brow, licking avocado off my finger. “Don’t go all shrink on me, Mr. Taylor.”
He lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “It was a statement.”
“It is what it is.” Those five words should be my life motto. “He has to do what they say. I know he hates it, even though he tried to convince me for a while he loved it, but he won’t quit.”
“Why?” Lachlan looks puzzled, a wrinkle forming in his normally smooth forehead.
“Why won’t he quit?” He nods as I exhale a breath. “Because we Meadows are a stubborn bunch.”
“No, seriously, what does he do? He probably could find something else fairly easy. It’s a big city.” He swishes his fingers lazily.
“Stuff with computers. I swear he’s a secret genius.” I finish my piece of bread and pull off a sheet of paper towel to wipe my fingers on. “And I’m sure a lot of places would love to have him, but I’m not kidding when I say he’s stubborn. It’s like he thinks he has to tough it out to prove a point.”
“To who?”
“Himself?” I let my arms fall to my sides. “I really don’t know. I keep begging him to leave, but he won’t.”
“Hmm.” Lachlan presses his lips together.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head and reaches out, placing a hand on my waist. His touch is gentle as he tugs me closer until I stand between the halo of his arms. With his other hand he cups the right side of my cheek. “Why do you feel like a dream?”
“A dream? I’m more like a nightmare.”
He tosses his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with laughter.
When he stops, his teeth dig into his bottom lip while his eyes bore into me. He looks like he wants to say something, but holds the words inside.
Tell me, Lachlan, I silently beg. Give me all your thoughts, your words, your fears, dreams and ambitions. Give it all to me. I’ll cherish it, I promise.
He swallows and instead takes my hand, tugging me into the living room.
Zeppelin lifts his mighty head, watching us from the floor as Lachlan sinks onto the couch and pulls me down with him, fitting my small frame between his legs so I collapse on top of him with my front to his. The dog settles back down, clearly used to my presence now.
I cross my hands on his chest and rest my chin on them. Blinking up at him I wait for him to do or say something. He stares right back at me. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.
Do I look as broken as I feel most of the time? Does he see the hopelessness beginning to fade from my eyes? Is it plastered all over my face how fucking enamored I am with him?
“You know,” he begins, clearing his throat, “when I figured you’d show up yesterday, I told myself to tell you that you had to go back home, that you couldn’t be here with me. But then, I opened the door and saw you. All those words … they no longer existed. When it comes to you, I’m incapable of common sense. I don’t understand it, but I think … I think I’m tired of fighting. I think about you when I shouldn’t, I have dreams of you that are immoral, I worry about you, I wonder what you’re thinking, and more than anything I want to make everything better for you and I’m so fucking torn up inside because I’m terrified I never can.”
He rubs his thumb over my cheek. I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing it.
“You already are.”
His blue eyes lighten at the same time he smiles—and that smile?
It’s like a brand across my heart, a fiery piercing feeling as he signs his name across it in ownership.
He doesn’t even realize it belongs to him.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lachlan rubs his thumb absentmindedly in circles around my calf where my legs are draped across his lap. He looks sinfully sexy with a book clasped in his hands, and his glasses perched on his nose. He gave me a book to read too, since the power is still out, but all I want is to stare at him in the glow of the candlelight. I want to commit the sharp slash of his jawline, the slope of his nose, and angle of his brow to my memory. I might never have this opportunity again to spend this much time alone with him without the worry or threat of everything that exists against us outside these walls.
“I can feel you staring at me.”
I giggle, leaning the side of my head against the couch. “I can’t help it.”
He slowly hinges his gaze from the words on the page to me. “I promise that book is as good as others I’ve lent you.”
I bite my lip slightly, trying to hide my growing smile. “I’m sure, but I’d rather look at you.”
“Why?” He sounds truly curious about my answer.
I hesitate, not wanting to sound creepy. “Because, right now, I can look at you however I want, and I don’t have to worry about someone seeing something they shouldn’t in my eyes.” His eyes darken slightly to a stormy blue. “Like the other day, when I passed you in the hall, all I wanted to do was look at you but I was too scared my friends might notice that I don’t look at you like the school counselor.”
He swallows thickly. “What do you look at me like, Dani?”
“Like you’re mine.”
His breath catches just the slightest,
the small sound amplified by the completely silent apartment. He tosses the book aside and I yelp when I find myself suddenly pinned to the couch with his big body over mine. My hips wiggle of their own accord, and he uses his own body to prevent me from moving any further. His hands are clasped on my wrists, holding them above my body. I feel vulnerable like this, but I have no desire to get away.
“Why do you have to say stuff like that?”
“Like what?” My voice cracks as I stare at him. He’s so close I can count every eyelash and freckle dusted across his nose if I want.
“Stuff that makes it feel so fucking impossible to be a good guy.”
If I had use of my hands I would touch his stubbled jaw. “You are a good guy.”
He shakes his head. “No, Dani, I’m not. A good guy wouldn’t be locked in his apartment with his student. A good guy wouldn’t have kissed her. And a good guy definitely wouldn’t be in the fucking position we’re in right now.” His breath caresses my lips with every word. “A good guy, definitely wouldn’t be thinking the things I am right now.”
It takes me a moment to find my voice. “What are you thinking?”
His eyes flash and his jaw snaps together like he’s trying to jail the words in his throat. He shakes his head back and forth, his eyes falling closed.
“Tell me,” I plead, wiggling my fingers and testing his hold.
When his eyes pop open it’s like the blue is on fire. “I want to know how you taste.” I open my mouth to protest that we’ve kissed, but he shakes his head. “Not your mouth, sweetheart.” My heart stutters at the endearment. “I want to know how you sound, how you feel, I want to know what brings you the most pleasure. That’s not what a good guy thinks about his student.”
I have no words. They’re stuck inside me, all the letters floating and jumbled. I’m unable to grab any of them and form them into sentences.
“Pretend I’m not your student.”
“But you are.”
“No,” I bite out. “I’m Dani. I’m just Dani.”
Sweet Dandelion Page 22