Page 23 of Absinthe Dreams
She bounces when I drop her on the bed, her arms splayed wide, her dress tangled up around her thighs. Goddamn, she's beautiful. Sexy, too. All rumpled and indecent.
And all fucking mine.
I yank my shirt off, hauling it up over my head. I'm still fighting my way free of the material when I hear her soft gasp.
"Trystan, what…?"
Shit.
I drop the shirt to find her struggling to sit upright, her eyes locked on my ribcage, her lips slightly parted. She crawls across the bed toward me, one hand extended.
I groan softly, my eyes falling closed as soon as she's got her hand on my body, her fingers trembling against my skin.
"When?" she demands softly, tracing the edges of the tattoo I got for her—the one I gotofher laughing up at me with a firefly in her cupped hands.
"My twenty-first birthday." I crack my eyes open to look at her, swallowing hard. "You didn't come home from college that year." I missed the fuck out of her, so I inked her into my skin so I could keep her close, no matter how far she went.
Guilt flickers in her gaze. "I didn't think you'd care if I came or not."
"I always cared, princess," I rasp. "Always."
Her finger traces over the delicate wings of the firefly. "You remember chasing fireflies with me?"
"You think I could forget?" I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together to tug her closer.
She rises up on her knees, planting her free hand against my chest to steady herself. Her head tips back, her eyes locked on my face like she's seeing me in a way she never has. Hell, maybe she is. I've kept the ink carefully covered for the last five years; afraid she'd lose her goddamn mind if she ever saw it. Convinced she hated me.
She set me free from that belief today. I think maybe she set herself free, too. I have no fucking clue what comes tomorrow or the day after that or the one after that. But I know what I want. It's not just her in my bed. It's her in every single way.
"I remember everything, Coco," I murmur, sliding my hands down to her waist. I hold her carefully as I lean down, claiming her lips again. My fingers close around the fabric of her dress, slowly raking it upward as I kiss her, our tongues sliding together in a sinuous rhythm that has my cock throbbing. Fuck, she tastes so goddamn sweet, like an absinthe-laced dream.
"I remember every secret you ever told me. I remember the way you used to sneak out of your tent and into mine because you were afraid of the dark, but didn't want to admit it."
She shivers as the dress slides up her body.
"I remember the way you always lit up when you saw me at the beginning of summer.Everything."
"Trystan," she whispers against my lips.
I break away long enough to tug her dress off over her head, letting it fall to the floor beside me. And then I nip her bottom lip, gently pushing her backward. She falls with a soft cry, landing on her back in the center of the bed, half-naked and flushed.
My eyes run down her body, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. Chloe has always been beautiful. Even when we were kids, she was the prettiest little thing, all wild hair, big green eyes, and attitude. She skipped right over the awkward phase most kids go through and turned into a beautiful teenager. She used to make me stupid when she smiled.
Now, though? Christ, Chloe at twenty-four is something else. She's no longer a wild little girl or a self-conscious teen still growing into her changing body. She's all soft, feminine curves, comfortable in her own skin. Even with me staring down at her, she doesn't try to cover herself or shy away; she just meets my gaze, confident in who she is. And that is so fucking sexy to me.
"Jesus, Coco," I rasp, kicking my pants off. "You're fucking gorgeous."
"Jesus, yourself," she says, her gaze drifting down my body to the obvious tent in my boxers. Her tongue skates across her bottom lip before she meets my gaze again, hers full of hunger. "My fantasies havenotdone you justice."
"Guess we'll just have to replace them, then." I crawl onto the bed, desperate to get my hands on her before that look in her eyes has me coming in my boxers.
"Yes, do that. Definitely." She flings her arms out wide, a smirk playing around her lips.
I choke on a laugh, too amped up. My hand lands against her ankle, my touch soft. I watch her face, checking for any signs of discomfort. "Does it hurt?"
"Not really."
I lift her leg, placing my lips against the inside of her ankle. She shivers, melting into the bed beneath me. A soft moan tumbles from her lips as I run mine up the inside of her calf, all the way to her knee. Her skin is so fucking soft and smooth. Christ, I want to worship every inch of it.
