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What’s the point of hiding from what could be?
I have no answer anymore, and with a gut-twisting intuition, I decide right then and there I can’t do this to him or myself.
I can’t let him slip through my fingers. Not like this.
Before I can chicken out or try to drum up another excuse, I get out of bed and hurry to the shared door. I lift my hand to knock, but it opens before my knuckles make contact on the wood.
Chapter 28
Aubrey
I hold my breath as I face Dalton. His gaze is a heavy one, full of need, impatience, and the same frustration that boils within me. I see it and recognize it in his troubled expression. What I notice the most though, is the despair. It’s a physical yearning he’s suffering through, and again, I know it because I’m wrapped up in the same damn sensation.
It’s a spell, an addiction. An overpowering desire has me reaching out to him. Without a word, he knows. He’s with me in this because he doesn’t need me to say—or not say—anything. We can feel the tension snapping between us and we’re too weak to stop it. I don’t want to stop anything anymore.
He grips my wrist before I can lay my hand on his arm, and in one quick tug, he pulls me into his room.
Words don’t matter here. In the darkness of the evening casting over the mountain outside the window, shadows show us the way. I feel the strength in his hands as he snakes them around me, closing me into a tight hug.
I heave in one last quick breath, needing it to hold me over as he crushes his lips to mine. This kiss is a claiming, and unspoken continuation of how he stupidly thought to leave me with that last word. That he loves me, that he’s sorry for wasting my time in doing so.
Idiot. We are both being stupid about this, but as I lean up and smash my mouth to his, I demand that he feels me. I part my lips and my tongue duels with his and steals a sinful taste of all of him. Between a rough clutch of his shirt and then with my fingers threaded through his hair, I make a fist and hope he’s taking a note of how unstoppable this love is that I can’t hide from him.
“Aubrey.” He breaks the kiss long enough to utter it, but it is a moment too damn long to waste.
“Don’t you dare think you can have the last word like that ever again,” I warn as I kiss him hungrily again. I refuse to stop until I’ve had my fill for the night. But I doubt I’ll ever get enough of this infuriating man who has burrowed his way into my heart in his insistent, annoying way. Dalton consumes my heart and mind, and it’s only fair that I torment him in kind.
“Uh-huh,” he replies in a whatever-like tone. He’s dazed, drunk on me and the lust we have for each other, but he’s with it, pushing me toward the bed and following me down onto it. The box springs squeak, and a faint worry of someone hearing us enters my mind. He doesn’t let me think about it for more than a second because he removes his shirt, baring that hard, sculpted chest I never want to miss touching.
And tasting. I twist, shoving him so he’s lying down, and I hurry to straddle him and lower my mouth to him. Instead of aiming for his lips, I suck on the flesh beneath his ear, then trail my tongue along the underside of his jawline. My hands stay busy, fumbling for the buttons on my shirt. Why, why the hell did I wear this tonight? Of all pajamas I could have chosen…
He grunts, helping me. His assistance is too harsh, and buttons go flying. I can’t care, not when he’s quick to cup my breasts and roll his thumb over my nipples that bead and stand for attention.
I hiss, distracted by the intense pleasure that rockets from the pebbled tips to my womb. Desire fills me, and I give in to the building race to have him.
“Don’t you dare tell me that you’re wasting my time,” I add, not so carried over with need for him that I forget my grievances that I’ve thought about all night. I lower myself more, gripping the waist of his boxers and shorts and shoving them down together. He grunts, then forces out a hard breath when I go so low that he can’t cup my tits.
“Come here,” he says urgently, begging in the darkness of his room. It sounds so loud, but I know he’s merely whispering so our neighbors don’t wake up.
I don’t, though. “No.” I’m too determined to show him that I feel the same. That I love him too. That I’ve already fallen too quickly and too far to ever think about going back to my life before him. Before realizing how much it hurt to love and surrender to it.
I crawl back towards his erection. It stands proudly so close to my face. Despite the darkness of the night, I see the details I want to memorize forever. The thick, hard length, so upright because of me. Because of us.
He doesn’t have a chance to tell me anything else. This time, I have the last word. I drag my tongue along his tip and savor the tart, salty taste of him. It’s been a while. It’s been a long while since I’ve wanted to embark on this route of foreplay with a man, but with Dalton, I’m aroused and eager to please.
Because this is the man I love. It’s taken me too long to accept that fact, but it’s unshakable, and I am all for proving it to him.
A loud curse flies from his mouth, and I can’t help but smile as I wrap my lips around him. His fingers dig into the blanket, and as he fists the covers for purchase, I bob up and down on his shaft. When I swirl my tongue on the tip, he groans in pleasure. If I slow my lips and suck harder, he shouts another not-so-quiet slip of profanity. I alternate, swallowing him deeper with both fast and slow dips and rises, and it doesn’t matter what I do or how, I am thoroughly driving him crazy.
Knowing I have the power to make him so close to coming is heady. I revel in the knowledge I can do this, and it feels so right between us. It’s not a hookup for fun. It’s not a convenient fling because we’re both here and idle on vacation. And it’s not a cheap waste of anyone’s time. Even though the night is only beginning with foreplay, it is all part of loving him.
“Aubrey!”
He sits upright when I feel his balls tightening. His thighs go hard, and I can tell he’s about to come. Before he lets me have a chance to swallow his cum, he scoots back.
My mouth is empty, losing contact with him with an audible, wet pop. I scowl up at him as he pants and shakes his head.
“Why’d you make me stop?”
