Page 36 of Chasing Wildflowers
Her eyes drift shut, a content sigh leaving her lips, as she sinks into my touch. “I don’t know the last time I came that hard, especially from dry humping like a couple of horny teenagers.”
I tease my lips against hers. “There’s more to come, baby.” I lean back and run a hand through her long, thick hair, brushing out some of the tangles. “And I don’t just mean sex, because there is plenty more of that coming too. I mean more dates, more conversations, more getting to know each other.”
A flicker of doubt flashes across her eyes, so quick I almost miss it. She wants this. Wants me. But that lingering fear won't let go. The fear of letting herself love again. Of losing her self-worth again. Of being hurt again by someone who promised to cherish her.
I bite my lip, holding back the words that threaten to spill out. I want to tell her about my past. About the abuse I lived through. It’s right on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back. It’s too soon.
“I won’t rush you, Wildflower. All I’m asking for is a chance,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
My step dad taught me many lessons over the years, but the most important one was how to treat a woman. Especially one who has been hurt. It took a long time for my mom to be ready to date. But Vic took his time and earned her trust.
Eventually, she fell for him, because how could she not? He worships the ground she walks on, treating her with nothing but kindness and respect. He’s always treated me like a son. He taught me how to love, how to respect, how to be a man.
Lane hesitates, briefly, before her lips pull up in a small teasing smile. “Okay, but you only get one chance with me. Fuck it up and we’re done.”
Guilt twists in my gut. She’s going to be furious when she finds out who I really am. She’s going to try to pull away from me. Hell, she might even try to disappear again.
I’d like to see her try. I won’t let her get away from me. I will find a way to make her understand.
I will find a way to keep her safe.
The blaring of my cell phone pulls me from sleep, interrupting a very graphic dream about my Wildflower.
It’s been just over three weeks since that night in my Bronco, when Lane came all over my lap. I’ve kept my promise—taking things slow. Keeping it all about her. I haven’t let her touch me yet. Haven’t even tasted her from my fingers. Wanting the first time to be when I can finally bury my face between her silky smooth thighs.
I peek at the cheap alarm clock and groan. Snatching my cell off the stand, I bring it to my ear. “It’s four o'clock in the fucking morning, Miles.”
“It could be nothing, but someone tried to hack my network,” he grits out, voice thick with irritation.
I bolt upright, adrenaline burning away the lingering haze of sleep. “Can you find out who it was?”
His fingers fly across his keyboard, the sound echoing through the phone. “I’m already working on it, but it’s going to take some time. Have you told her yet?”
“I’m working on it,” I parrot back to him.
I toss my phone aside and head for the shower. There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep now. I’m too wound up. It could be nothing, people try to hack each other all the time. But the fact remains that we know next to nothing about our client. We don’t know what he’s capable of or how far he would go to find Ceciley.
Hell we don’t even know what he plans to do if he finds her. I don’t imagine he’s going to hand her over to the cops.
I can’t shake the feeling that my time is running out.
Sixteen
Lane
Kam leans forward, eyes wide. “You’ve been on how many dates and you still haven’t seen his dick?” she blurts,loudly, her hand coming up to rest on her chest, her bracelets clanking with the movement. Her expression is pure, unfiltered shock.
We’re sitting at a booth smack dab in the center ofBrewed. The sharp scent of roasted beans hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the buttery croissant sitting in front of me.
I glance around nervously, the clink of mugs and hiss of the espresso machine suddenly too loud. Heat spikes up my neck, settling hot in my cheeks when a few people glance our way before quickly going back to their coffee.
I lean forward, my eyes narrowed. “Can we not announce my sex life to the whole town?”
“Sorry,” she whispers, ducking her head and looking at least a little ashamed of herself. “Seriously, what’s going on? I’ve never met a guy who says no after six dates.”
I groan, slumping back, the cracked vinyl creaking under me. “I don’t know.” My finger traces the condensation running down my cup. “I shouldn’t be complaining. He’s incredible.”
“But…” she asks, because of course she knows there is a but.
