Page 17 of Merrily Ever After
Chapter Six
I saw a nature documentary once. One of thosewhy am I watching thisones where you follow some cute little furball around for twenty minutes only for it to get eaten by a wolf. I don’t remember much. But what I couldn’t get over was howstillanimals could go once they’d been cornered. Every inch of them motionless, like they weren’t even breathing. Just frozen. Waiting.
Exactly like Lara is now.
The words hang between us. To the point where it’s like I can feel them in the air. I don’t take them back. But I’m not going to take this any further if she’s not ready.
But then, like she realizes I mean every word, her expression opens, softens, and when she nods it’s a little shy and a little excited and completely and utterly Lara.
This is the part where I should probably take charge, but a sudden rush of nerves won’t let me. Luckily, as my confidence wanes, it seems to transfer to her, and she turns to face me, tucking her legs under her.
I wish the electricity was working. I know mood lighting is preferred for situations like this, but I want to see her fully. To take in every inch of her as she leans in, holding eye contact until the last second when her gaze flickers to my mouth.
My heart thuds as though reminding me I’m still alive. I tell myself to close my eyes, still not entirely sure whether or not I’m just having a really vivid dream, and then she’s there, her nose grazing mine and her lips light as a feather against me.
I wait for her to pull away, bracing myself not to follow, but then her breath hits my skin, and I feel the hot, wet flick of her tongue.
She catches my mouth in a kiss at the same moment my hands go to her knees. Her yoga pants are light enough that I can feel the heat of her beneath them, the softness of her body.
My pulse spikes, but she breaks away, reaching for the bottom of her sweater.
When she peels it over her head, I have the strangest feeling of déjà vu. Of being eighteen years old again on that warm September night.
I certainly feel like a teenager again, trying to look everywhere but where her breasts press against her thin camisole. She’s not wearing a bra.
“Is this just …” She hesitates as a small line forms between her brows. “Tell me this isn’t just a Christmas thing. That this won’t be weird tomorrow.”
“It won’t be weird tomorrow,” I confirm. “Or the next day. Or the day after that. And I’ll let you take as many blood samples from me as possible to prove it.”
“Be serious.”
“I am.”
“You keep staring at my boobs.”
“Because I’ve been thinking about them for ten years,” I admit, and she laughs this surprised laugh that makes me want to kiss her so badly, it physically hurts not to. But once and for all, I have to make her see.
“You’re my whole world,” I say simply. “And you have been since the moment I met you. And if you want to wait, I’ll wait. If you want proof, I’ll lay it down at your feet. Whatever you want, I’ll—”
Orshe’s good now. I smile as she moves forward again, pushing me down into the blankets as she leans over me. I go with it. Of course I do. I’ll do whatever she wants. I always will.
“Just like old times,” I say. It’s meant to be a joke, but my voice comes out a bit hoarse, which will embarrass me greatly later, but I’m too distracted as I trail my fingers up her arm, watching the way her body reacts to mine. The rising of soft, dark hair. The goosebumps followed by a shiver. Up her shoulder, the arch of her neck, into the curls I’ve always loved.
Those curls fall over us as she bows her head, and I drop my hands down her back and up again, bringing her top with me as I go. This time, there’s no hesitation as she helps me take it off. No second thoughts as she takes my hand and shows me where she wants it.
For the longest time we stay just like that. Making out. Fooling around. Getting to know each other in a whole different way. And I think about how brilliant that is. How I thought I knew this woman from the inside out when really, I didn’t have a clue.
I didn’t know about the small moles she has on her ribcage. The way her skin flushes in the firelight. I didn’t know the noises she makes when I touch her. Didn’t know how she likes to be kissed.Whereshe likes to be kissed. Her neck, her throat. The delicate skin behind her ear.
It’s like a whole new Lara to learn and I plan to be the best student ever.
I wait until she’s practically melting into me before I make my move, grasping her waist and switching places. She makes a pleasedoomphsound as I settle her back down. I find the crease of her knee and draw her leg up over my hip, and we both pause, taking each other in before her fingers flutter down my stomach, pausing at my waistband.
“Do you—”
“In my wallet.” I say the words so quickly that she bursts out laughing, but I just grin as I reach over to where I’d dumped my coat by the couch and take out the little foil packet before shucking my jeans off. I lift myself off her as I do and she quickly raises her hips, shimmying out of her yoga pants.
“You sure?” I ask, and when she nods, I lose the boxers, too. And then we’re together. Just like we always should have been.
