Page 16 of Dart to Me
“Not at all,” he says, his eyes holding mine. “The bar was actually pretty high. But you cleared it easily.”
The compliment warms me more than the wine. We talk more, the conversation deepening as we relax into this new, private setting.
“Can I tell you something?”
I nod, suddenly unable to form words with him this close.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you gardening when I moved in.” His hand moves to cup my cheek, thumb gently tracing my lower lip.
The moment stretches between us, filled with anticipation. Then slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, he leans in. His lips meet mine with surprising gentleness at first, a question more than a demand.
I answer by leaning into the kiss, my free hand finding its way to his shoulder. What starts as tentative quickly deepens, his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. The wine glass in my hand tilts dangerously, and I break away with a breathless laugh to set it on the coffee table. Julian does the same, his eyes never leaving mine.
When he reaches for me again, there’s no hesitation. His kiss is more confident now, exploring, his hand sliding into my hair. I melt against him, every nerve ending alive with sensation. My fingers trace the edge of his collar before venturing to the buttons of his shirt.
“Is this okay?” I whisper against his lips.
“More than okay,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.
His hands are warm against my skin as they find the zipper of my dress, pausing there in silent question. I nod, and theslow drag of the zipper sends shivers down my spine. The dress loosens around my shoulders, and Julian’s lips follow the newly exposed skin trailing along my collarbone.
“You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he says, his breath hot against my neck.
I tilt my head back, giving him better access. “Tell me.”
“Since that first day,” he admits between kisses. “When you waved at me from your garden. You looked so beautiful in the sunlight.”
His honesty disarms me. I pull back slightly to look at him, finding his eyes dark with want but also something softer, more vulnerable.
“I noticed you too,” I confess. “I may have deliberately spent more time outside after you moved in.”
He laughs, his hands settling at my waist. “Really?”
“Really.”
Our next kiss is different—slower, deeper. My dress slips further, and Julian’s shirt begins to come undone beneath my fingers. There’s a moment where we could turn back, keep this night in the realm of a successful first date with the promise of more to come.
But when he looks at me, a question in his eyes, I make my decision. I stand, letting my dress fall to the floor, and hold out my hand to him.
“Bedroom’s this way,” I say, surprised by the steadiness in my voice despite the hammering of my heart.
Julian takes my hand, rising to follow. As we move through the dim hallway, I feel none of the awkwardness that usually accompanies first-time intimacy. Instead, there’s an almost peaceful certainty, as if this was always going to happen—not just tonight, but from the moment he moved in next door.
In the soft light of my bedroom, Julian pulls me close again, his hands tracing reverent patterns across my skin. “You’re sure?” he asks, his forehead resting against mine.
In answer, I guide his hand to the clasp of my bra. “I’m sure.”
Julian’s tattoos tell stories beneath my fingertips—each one with meaning as he whispers against my skin between kisses. His hands are confident but considerate. Finding places I didn’t know could make me gasp.
The sheets rustle beneath us as we fall into bed together. His touch is a delicious torment, building the tension inside me until I’m trembling with need.
I moan into his neck as his mouth as his lips trail down my body. His touch is so inescapable. I haven’t been with anyone since my divorce, but it shows just how much I’ve been missing. The desire. The pent up sexual tension laying underneath the surface of every encounter I’ve had with Julian.
His mouth stops once he reaches my inner thighs, his hands on my knees. “I’d like to taste you.”
This man is different. My husband never did that after we got married. Hell, I can’t even remember what it feels like. So instead of answering, I spread my thighs and close my eyes, slightly embarrassed.
Julian is… sexy. I’m sure he’s had his fair share of women and that makes me feel slightly insecure, but all that goes out the window when he comes up and kisses me.
