Page 61 of Keepsake
I could hear her voice, but was unable to respond. I was too far under the spell.
“Are you okay?”
Startled by the question, I opened my eyes. Lark’s face was right there above mine, her perfect mouth just inches away. Trying to hold onto the dream, I lifted my head to meet her for a kiss.
Lark made a startled sound.
Startled?
Fuck!
I sat up so fast that she had to weave out of my way. “Sorry,” I choked out. I looked down, and my dick stared accusingly back up at me, straining against my flannel pants. I drew my knees up quickly, then rolled over on my side, facing away from her.
“Zach?” She put a concerned hand on the back of my neck. But the contact was like gasoline on my fire. Her friendly touch was exactly what I didn’t need right now. “Are you sick?” she asked.
“No… I’m… It’s…”Get a grip already, I coached myself.Nothing happened.
It was only a dream. These were the same words I used night after night to comfort Lark. And now the joke was on me. My pulse was pounding just as hard now as it had been a minute ago, when I’d thought she was… “Fuck.”
“Shh…” Lark said, stroking a lock of hair away from my face. “What did you dream about?”
I chuffed out a strangled laugh and shook my head.
Lark made a fist and pushed it against my shoulder with a friendly nudge. I could feel that she was trying to put me at ease, but it wasn’t going to work. “I tell you my secrets. But your dream is top secret?”
I exhaled on a long, hot breath. “It was R-rated,” I explained at a whisper. “But not for violence.”
“Oh.” The one word carried the weight of understanding.
Feeling my face redden, I pressed my overheated cheek into the pillow. I took a slow breath and tried to get myself under control. In my dream, I’d been seconds away from orgasm. I needed a few minutes to calm down, and then I would get up and walk back to my own bed.
“Zach,” Lark whispered. The bed moved as she lay down again, too. “Is it egotistical of me to ask whether I’ve ever made it into one of your best dreams?”
In Leviticus, it says,“You shall not lie to one another.” The temptation was strong. But I spoke the truth. “They’re all about you.”
15
Lark
Istudiedthe rise and fall of Zach’s muscular back with each breath. Unable to resist, I put a hand on his neck. He was so solid and warm against my touch. As my thumb stroked over his skin, the moment stretched wide between us.
The choice was mine. If I reached for him, he could be mine. Or I could do nothing. Say nothing. That would be an outright rejection, and one that I didn’t want to make.
I already knew what Zach looked like splitting wood, his muscles bunching with each swing of the maul. I knew the sight of him dashing past my door with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. I knew how he kissed—with such thoroughness and desire that it had made my head spin.
Now I wondered how he’d look hovering above me in bed.
And who could blame me? Zach was beautiful on his worst day. But a horny Zach was the thing of fantasies. My pulse kicked up a notch, and I was filled with the urge to see every golden inch of his skin and watch his eyes darken with lust.
My rusty libido cranked to life as I focused my gaze on the place where his neck met his strong shoulder. Without conscious thought, I moved closer and kissed him right there. His skin was velvety under my lips, and the clean scent of him made me sigh.
His body stilled beneath my touch, and he let out a hot breath.
Even as I leaned into the warmth of his body, I knew on some level that I shouldn’t do it. Zach wasn’t just a guy I happened to be attracted to. He was special. Zach was a better person than…well, just about anybody. He ought to be handled with care.
But as I dragged my lips on a path toward his jaw, he moaned. That small sound dispensed with what little self-control I had. My inner Wild Child hadn’t shown up lately. But now she announced her presence, touching the tip of her tongue to Zach’s heated skin. He tasted exactly as he should—of the cool night air, the outdoors, a hint of sweat.
Zach had entirely stopped breathing, and I wondered one last time if maybe I’d overstepped. “Should I stop?”
