Page 129 of Into These Eyes
“No, I … I’ve got that under control,” I manage to answer.
He closes his eyes, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, as if he’s trying to calm himself.
“Gavin? What is it?”
His eyes snap open, locking onto mine. “That’ll be a first for me.”
I squeeze his waist. “Me too.”
Nuzzling his nose into my neck, he slides a hand beneath the hem of my dress. When he’s halfway up my thigh, the car slows to a stop in front of my house.
After he helps me out, he takes my hand, laces our fingers, and walks me to front door.
“What’s been the best part of the night for you so far?” he asks.
Digging my keys from my handbag, I think about it for a moment. “Actually, there were two. Dessert, being my second favourite.”
He gives me a devilish grin as I unlock the door. Once we’re on the other side of the threshold, my heart beats like a hummingbird’s wings. We’re finally alone. No excuses. No distractions. Nothing but us. And being alone with him like this, suddenly fills me with nerves.
In the dim light cast by the floor lamp, he slips my handbag from my shoulder, places it on the side table and lays his jacket over the arm of the couch.
When he strides toward me, I brace myself for the onslaught I’m sure is coming. I wait for him to crush his mouth to mine and haul me into the bedroom.
Instead, he gently takes my hands. “And what’s your favourite part about tonight?”
I tighten my hold on him, our eyes locked. “Coming home with you.”
He stands motionless for a moment, then a full-blown smile lights up his face. “You and your perfect compliments. Come here.”
He tugs on my hands, forcing me to take the step that lands me right in his personal space. Brushing my hair over my shoulder,he tucks loose strands behind my ear in such a delicate, loving gesture, I sway closer.
Cupping my face, he gazes deep into my eyes. “Coming home with you, living with you, talking with you, touching you, holding you, kissing you … all of it … I can barely believe it’s real.” He glances off to the side and shakes his head on a deep sigh. When he meets my eyes again, they’re shining bright. “Sometimes, I wake up in the dark and think I’m still trapped in that cell, that all of this is a dream. Thatyou’rea dream. For those few seconds, I feel like I’m being swallowed by darkness … and Iwantit to swallow me.”
Tears prick at my eyes. The depths of this man overwhelm me. But it’s the fact that hetellsme, without an ounce of shame, what those depths are that leaves me in awe.
Placing a hand on the side of his neck, I graze my thumb along his jawline, and it’s not lost on me that this is how he comforted my mother in her last moments. “Don’t let it swallow you, Gavin. I’m right here. I’m real.”
Dropping his forehead to mine, he whispers, “I know, J. God, do I know.”
He pulls me into his embrace, and I hold onto him, absorbing his warmth and comfort, allowing myself to feel cherished and protected. He’s not pouncing on me like I expected. He’s surprising me, taking it slow, showing incredible restraint.
“Remember the day you came to the caravan, dropped a bombshell, and I held you like this?” he asks, his voice rough with emotion beside my ear.
“You were so kind and patient. And sweet. And I didn’t deserve any of it.”
“Yes, you fucking did.”
I smile against his chest. “And I remember your heart … beating so fast. Too fast. Like it is now.”
A low rumble travels through his body and into mine.
“That’s because,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers up my spine, “I had to restrain myself from kissing you here.” He places a soft kiss below my earlobe, and goosebumps erupt across my skin. “And here.” He trails kisses down the side of my neck, the soft tickle of his beard mingling with the warmth and pressure of his lips. Skipping over the material of my halter neck, he presses barely-there kisses along my exposed shoulder. “And here.” I quake in his arms, the ache between my legs becoming so intense a soft groan escapes my throat.
Then the warmth of his body vanishes and he’s on one knee before me, his hot palm on the back of my calf coasting down to my ankle. As I lift my foot, I slide my fingers into his thick hair.
“You’re always taking care of me,” I sigh, letting relief wash through me as the first shoe comes off. “The dustpan and paper towels …”
He looks up at me. “You liked that?”
