Page 139 of Awestruck at Dusk
“You’re welcome.” William tossed a piece of bread into his mouth and shook his head with a smile. “But I don’t think that’s why they did. And I’m sure they were glad they gave you the opportunity after seeing how good you were. The photographs are incredible.”
“Thanks.” I sipped on my wine again and said, “Please don’t take this in the wrong way, but I think this wine is a new winner. It’s better than the one you used to re-label as Nemorino’s, which used to be my favorite until now.”
“Well, it’s great to hear because Nemorino’s needs to be reformulated as soon as possible,” William said with a laugh. “It didn’t workat allon your birthday. It only made you sick and walk out on me that night.”
“It works every time,” I told him. “I just had the wrong dose.” I laughed too. “But I had so much fun with you that night. And you have no idea how much our conversation out in the back helped me.” I dropped my wineglass and reached out for his hand again. “You keep showing up for me every time. And it was so hard for me when the band started playing, because I wantedso badlyto stand beside you and watch them perform and sing our hearts out together. And when you went up the stage and sang that song, I swear I almost passed out.”
“You almost passed out because you had too much Nemorino’s.” He teased.
“I don’t think so.” I squeezed his hand. He took the back of my hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Let’s make a toast,” he said suddenly, lifting his wineglass. He stared at me, his gaze piercing right through me. And I let him right in. I raised my wineglass too and waited for him to speak. “May our worst nights be like this one.”
I offered him a melancholic kind of smile, remembering our toast that day. And it couldn’t have been more suited right now. I truly wished for that.
“Skål,” we said in unison as I bumped my glass with his. We sipped on our wine and smiled. William placed his wineglass on the table and leaned in to kiss me. It was the sweetest and softest kiss ever. His wine-tasting tongue brushed gently against mine as he removed my wineglass from my hand to put it back on the table.
I reached out and combed his hair with my fingers while he pulled my chair closer to his. He ran a hand over my shoulder and caressed my back, drawing me in.
“I can’t believe I’m kissing you right now,” he whispered to my lips. “I swear that’s all I’m going to do all night.”
I couldn’t believe it either. It was all so surreal, and a part of me feared I might be making it all up, but I wasn’t.
William grabbed my waist and tugged at it. “Get over here.”
I stood up and sat on his lap, running an arm around his neck. He kissed me again, and his warm hand cupped my cheek and slowly made its way down the back of my neck.
He unlocked his lips from mine and kissed my collarbones, moving further down, making my neck arch back a little. A soft moan escaped me, and William groaned against the responsive skin of my chest. He left a trail of kisses along the heart-shaped neckline of my dress.
“William …” I said with a gasp as he did it again, slower this time. He placed his hand on my leg and scrunched up my dress as his fingers slid further up.
“I’ve dreamt of doing this,” he said in my ear, feeling myself melt from his touch, “more times than I can even remember—God, you feel so good.”
His movements were soft, lazy, almost exploratory, and that made me want him even more. It made me want him to let go completely, but I knew he knew what he was doing. And it was working. I was growing restless with desire. He was making me crave him so badly.
I parted my lips to speak, to tell him I wanted more, needed more. And then there was a knock on our door.
We ignored it. Instead, he kissed me.
There was a second, louder knock a few seconds later that made me tense up and shudder because what if someone came looking for me?What ifthey’rehere…
William unlocked his lips from mine and said, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s probably Johnny with dessert.”
Well, if it’s Johnny… “Fuck dessert,” I muttered, kissing him again. William chuckled against my lips and carried on, the rhythm of his fingers intensifying around that sweet spot he so easily located.
“Mr. Sjöberg?” a man’s voice boomed across the door. “It’s Johnny!”
William stopped what he was doing and uttered something in Swedish under his breath—cursing for sure. He sounded frustrated and so was I.
“It’s okay. Go,” I said, kissing his warm, flushed cheek. “Maybe it’s chocolate.”
“It better be.” He dropped a quick kiss on my lips, lifted me, and placed me back on my chair. He shot up from his seat with a sharp sniff, sauntering toward the door. William opened it just a tad, cleared his throat, and said, “Hey, Johnny.”
Johnny asked if he could clear the table, but William refused right away. He took two different plates of dessert and told him they could clean up tomorrow. Johnny left as requested, and William walked back with the plates.
“I couldn’t let him in,” he said, looking down at his pants, laughing. “Look at what you do to me.”
A nervous chuckle escaped my throat when I looked as he asked me too, just to confirm his statement, not that I hadn’t already felt him when I sat on his lap.
