Page 65 of Falling Into Forever
My hands slide down his chest, memorizing every curve and dent of muscle, but I still can’t get close enough to him. I want him with a need so powerful I might combust if he doesn’t ease the desire building between my legs.
I’ve gone from keeping him at arm’s length togive me that entire lengthin the blink of an eye. Eventually I’ll regret it, but right now I don’t care. How can I when I’m alive for the first time in years?
Have I really been dead inside for six freaking years?
When the what-ifs and what-nexts invade my mind, I dig a hole in my chest and bury them, however temporary, with Dante’s love.
Courage spikes when his hardened shaft presses to my center, and I allow my hand to drift to the band of his boxer briefs. But he pulls his hips back, slows our kiss, lowers me to the floor, and new panic ices my veins.
Why is he stopping me?
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says with his lips hovering over mine. “That means I have to find my place in your life—in all aspects of your life. With Ainsley and even…” He turns his face away from mine. “Even with Grady,” he grumbles.
Heaving breaths burn in my lungs as I process what he’s saying.
“You—You still want to go to Three Brothers Brewing? Now?” My voice is squeaky and a bit annoyed. “Now? When I’m—When I want to…”
“You have no idea how much it’s killing me to pull away right now.”
I glower at him, and he chuckles, then reaches for my hand. Before I can find a retort, he places it over the thick ridge of his erection.
“Killing me, Saylor. But I’m not going to fuck up this time. I will make an effort with everyone who matters in your life.”
“But what about me?” I cannot believe I whined like that. What the hell is happening to me?
He takes a step forward and crowds me against the wall. “Oh, baby. Trust me. I’m not forgetting about you. While you’re at that sexy little book club, I want you to remember what it felt like to have my head between your legs and my thumb stroking your clit like my favorite guitar. I want you to remember how I pulse inside you and how your walls choke my cock when you come.”
“That’s not fair,” I say with a shaky sigh.
“But think about how ready you’ll be for me when we get home. Because I am coming home tonight, sweetheart. In your bed. In your body. In your heart.”
He retreats to pull on more clothing, leaving me dumbfounded.
Holy mother of shit in heaven. I don’t move. I don’t even dare to breathe for fear my denim shorts will press against my clit and I’ll come on the spot. I should have worn leggings.
“Breathe, Sayls. You only have to make it through a few more hours.” It’s a dark promise of what’s to come.
I finally exhale a long breath and fight the urge to double over with my hands on my knees.
My entire body vibrates, and I’m afraid that if I move an inch, sparks will fly from my limbs. It’s been years since I’ve had this kind of energy flowing through my blood, and it’s all because of the man I pushed away. In only a few days, he’s brought me back to life in ways I hadn’t even acknowledged I was missing.
What will he do to me in a week? Two?
He turns a crooked smile my way and finds me staring at him in the darkening room. “You ready?”
The lump in my throat decides it’s not budging, so I hum my agreement. “Mm-hmm.” I also don’t dare open my mouth because I have no idea what might fly out with my mind a whirling firestorm of emotions I’ve repressed since he left.
Dante wraps an arm around my waist and walks us to the door. I’m halfway down the stairs when he says, “There’s not a day that’s passed that I haven’t been in love with you.”
I freeze. The sounds of him locking the door hit my ears like a steel drum, and then the thump, thump, thump of his footsteps brings him so close his body heat infiltrates my own through our clothes.
“I’ll take your dark days, and I’ll take your sass, your insecurities, and Oscar-ish ways. I’ll be here to catch you, but please, promise that you’ll let me in because I won’t survive losing our love twice.”
Everything goes fuzzy when my heart rate triples, and I’m forced to focus on the handrail so I don’t fall. This is a different kind of panic. This is the kind of panic that speaks of truths because I won’t survive it either.
“Come on. Grady is probably waiting to kick my ass.”
He takes hold of my hand and leads me down the remaining stairs. If he notices the war happening in my heart, he doesn’t say so. He simply takes care of me as we head toward the covered bridge leading to Three Brothers Brewing.
