Man of My Dreams (4 page)

Declan takes my hand in his, entwining our fingers together. His touch sparks something, but it’s not innocence. The simple gesture is sweet, but after the way he just serenaded me, sweet isn’t going to cut it. I don’t want him to think I’m some slut ready to give it up to him on our first date, we hardly know each other. But God help me for not wanting to reciprocate his sweet, gentle wooing. I want him to kiss me with the same eager desire that gleamed in his penetrating eyes when he sang those words to me.

As we walk in silence, hand in hand, to the bus stop where the shuttle back to campus picks us up, I can’t control my devilish musings. Whitney won’t be back at the dorm tonight, and I intend on asking Declan to come up and continue our date.
My turn to show him how much I want him.

“You’re awfully quiet. What’re you thinking about, huh?” Declan’s free hand tips my chin up so my eyes meet his.

I’m almost positive that all of my secret intentions spill out through my dilated, fiery gaze, so I lower my eyes, taking in how perfectly my hand fits inside his.

“I’m thinking about what a great time I had and how I don’t want it to end just yet. It’s still kind of early. Want to watch a movie back at the dorms?”
Step one: get him in the room. Step two, and all the rest, will come later.

“I’d love that. But I kind of want to take care of something first.” He drops my hand from his, leaving it cold and lonely without his fingers wrapped around mine.

I look up into his eyes; the blue glistens with tiny gold specks illuminated by the street lamps. They’re not focused on mine; they’re paying very close attention to my mouth. I lick my lips, as if to extinguish the flames that his scorching stare has ignited.

He leans forward.
This is it!
But instead he takes a few strands of my hair, playing with them, flipping them through his fingers.
Come on! You can’t come that close just to touch my hair, you tease.
I want to move in and take matters into my own hands, but I also want Declan to possess control of our first kiss. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the way it feels to watch a guy lean in and tilt his head, the anticipation of his lips melding to mine for the very first time. The thought of watching Declan do this sends thrilling tingles fluttering through my stomach.

But he hasn’t taken the usual stance a guy takes before going in for the kill. He’s backing away, hesitant, almost nervous even. I take a step closer. Maybe he needs help, or more proof that what I want more than anything is to be kissed. By him.

He doesn’t lean down and tilt his head; he brings his hands up to my face, his thumbs caressing my blush burned cheeks. I close my eyes to savor the smooth, amorous touch, taking it all in, and then I finally feel the connection of his lips on mine.

They’re soft and just moist enough to make me want more. His tongue pokes through my puckered pout, forcing a slow, delicious entrance. I part my lips to give into his sweet intrusion, and his tongue explores my mouth with slow circles and flicks. He pulls back, grazing the tip of my tongue ever so slightly with his own. That’s when I can’t control it anymore.

My hands reach up to bury themselves in his hair and I deepen the kiss by pulling him closer. My tongue caresses his with a building hunger. I pause from the stroking to trail my tongue across his top lip. In response he nibbles my lower lip with his teeth before capturing it with a subtle suck. This is hands down the best first kiss I have ever had. Ever!

We go on like this for what seems like hours under the ashy moonlight and shallow thumping of the music we left behind, alternating between slow, tender pecks and more intense groping. The sound of the bus pulling up at the curb is what finally breaks us away from each other.

“Wow!” He says to me, wiping away the remains of my lipstick from my mouth with his thumb.

“Wow is an understatement. Incredibly, breathtakingly awesome is more like it.”

Back in my dorm room, we can’t keep our hands off each other. So much for that movie. It never even made it into the DVD player. But it looks like my plan to have my way with Declan is working. I’m so glad Whitney is spending the night at her boyfriend’s apartment. No room for interruptions tonight.

“Mia. Wait. Stop.”

Declan’s hands are in my hair, his lips still trailing kisses on my neck.
No, don’t stop that.

“What? What’s the matter?” I say, panting, trying to unbutton his jeans.

“It’s our first date. There’s plenty of time for…for our first time.”

I’m starting to wonder if his choice of song was the right one.

“Declan, I thought we made it clear back at the bar that we wanted each other. This is me wanting you.” My eager hands find their way back to his pants, but are stopped by Declan’s firm grip on my wrists.

He places my arms at my side, and we sit up on the bed, regaining normal breaths. He lifts his hands up to my face and cups my chin with one, pushing my bangs out of my eyes with the other. “Mia, I want you. I’ve never wanted someone so badly…ever. But…”

“But what, Declan? It seems simple to me. I want you, you want me. What more is there to know?”

He pauses, looking down at his fidgeting legs. “I’m a virgin, Mia.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. How could a man who just serenaded me with one of the sexiest songs I’ve ever heard and who kisses the way he does be a virgin? Maybe I heard wrong. Maybe—

“I’m sorry I just blurted it out like that, and you have no idea how embarrassing this is to admit to you. I definitely want this...and you. Just not tonight. I want to get to know you better.”

If this isn’t the role reversal of the century, I don’t know what is. It’s not that I think it’s weird—I was a virgin as a freshman too. But Declan? He’s gorgeous, he exudes sex. How the hell has he not had sex before?

I realize I still haven’t said anything and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. So instead of acting the way a horny guy would, I think with my head instead of the throbbing sensation aching between my legs. “Okay. We’ll wait. But can we still make out? I don’t think I can wait to have those lips on mine again.”

He cups my face with his hands and pulls my mouth toward his. “Oh, God. I thought you’d never ask.”

My face is pressed up against a pillow, strands of long golden hair splayed out across the smooth, silken sheets. His hands reach underneath me to grope my breasts, his fingers bringing my nipples to beaded peaks.

“Please, baby. I can’t wait any longer,” I beg.

His tight erection skims the cheeks of my ass and then, with one quick tilt on my behalf, the long hardness nestles between my silky moist folds. My body instinctively opens for him, allowing his entrance and I moan with gratitude as he guides his way inside.

I clutch fistfuls of sateen sheets, stifling moans with the pillow. I know I need to be quiet, so I whisper his name. “Noah…it’s so good, baby.”

Unexpectedly, the sensation is gone and I lift my head to look over my shoulder, bewildered, before I let out a satisfying gasp. His mouth has taken over and the wetness of his tongue on my equally wet flesh is pure ecstasy. His slick movements are erratic, alternating between sweet, gentle suction and rampant, greedy licking. His expert-like ministrations cause an earth-shattering ripple to shudder throughout my body. I revert back to grabbing the sheets as the intense tremors build even more, coiling deep within.

His tongue teases and then stiffens, breaching into me, unraveling the last of me. I pant into the pillow, replete, satisfied, on cloud nine and then I hear the laughter.

“Good morning, babe.”

It takes a second to register that the voice coming from between my legs isn’t Noah’s, but my husband’s.
Oh my God, not again.
Thank God, I never screamed out his name.

Or did I?

“Declan, what the hell are you doing?” I spin around, landing on my back and pull the covers over me.

“Giving you the wake-up call you deserve,” he replies, licking his lips.

“Are you nuts? What time is it? The girls could have….”

“Don’t worry about the girls. They’re both still sound asleep. Me on the other hand, I’m wide awake.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down and points to the massive erection that’s created a tent in his flannel pajama bottoms.

I pull him up to me and he collapses on his pillow, next to mine. “I can’t believe you did that while I was still sleeping. What the hell gave you that –wait, have you been snooping through my romance novels again?”

Declan can’t contain his laughter. I slap a hand across his mouth, shushing him. “Shh! Let them sleep.” I nibble his ear, inching my hand into his PJs. “You started it, now let me finish it.”

An hour later downstairs in the kitchen, Declan turns to the girls, stirring his pancake concoction of bananas and chocolate chips. “So what do you ladies want to do today?”

“Can we go see Santa?” Cara looks up from cartoons first to tell us of her Saturday afternoon idea.

Charlie immediately disagrees, “No! Mommy, I scared. I don’t want to see Santa!”

“Charlie, if we don’t see him he won’t know whatta bring us for Christmas. You wanna get
another
baby doll? Come on!”

Declan and I laugh at Cara’s unrepressed honesty. The kid wants her chance to plead with the big guy. I think this year it’s Barbie’s Dream House she has her heart set on.

“Charlie, if we go to the mall to see Santa you don’t have to sit on his lap. Cara can tell him what you want. Is that okay?” Declan flips another pancake, trying to reason with the ever-unreasonable two-year-old.

Charlie plays with the idea in her head, her little mouth crunched up in a tight pout, her teeny nose crinkled up. “Okay, Daddy.”

I guess we’re off to the mall today—should be fun fighting the holiday crowd with a double stroller. I can hardly hide my excitement. Just another day in the not-so-glamorous life of a housewife. But maybe if I sacrifice what could have been a peaceful Saturday afternoon and suck it up, I can be rewarded later. I immediately scoot over to Declan, my enthusiastic hands around his waist.

“Babe, want to see if your parents will sit later tonight? I’ll call Grace and see if someone can watch Brandon, too. The four of us haven’t been out for a non-Applebee’s meal in way too long.” I don’t even give Declan a chance to answer, my fingers already mid-text.

“I don’t know, Mia. I’ve been so beat lately. My eyes start to shut by nine o’clock. I guess we’re getting old.”

Shot down, just like that?
“Speak for yourself, buddy. I still feel like a teenager. And what happened to the benefits of marrying a younger man? I should be the one passed out by nine.” In the good old days, we wouldn’t even head out to our first destination until ten, eleven o’clock. Now, and especially lately, I’m lucky if Declan isn’t snoring before the kids are even down for the night.

He places the first batch of pancakes at the center of the table, the steam spiraling up out of the scrumptious looking pile. The girls reach over, licking their little lips, and I place one pancake on each of their plates. As I start cutting them into bite-size bits, I try to think of a way to coerce Declan to wine and dine his wife tonight.