To See You (20 page)

“Layton,” she whispered.

I lifted one hand from the counter and swiped her hair away from her profile. Just a breath away from her cheek, I noted the tiny crinkle next to her eye, the swipe of glitter on her cheek, and the small mole next to her ear.

“Please don’t push me away,” I begged.

“Layton.” Another whisper. “How can you want me? With how it ended last time? And how will you ever know that I really wanted you before you were a sexy god?” The side of her mouth turned up in a small smile.

“Turn around.”

“No.”

“You think I’m a sexy god?”

“I do.”

“Turn around.”

She twisted in my arms, but her gaze dropped to my chest. A tiny crease appeared between her brows when she said softly, “How will you ever believe that I’d come to realize I liked the old you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Charli. I’m still me, and you’re here and I want you so bad.”

“Kiss me.” Her words were soft, breathy, and her eyelashes fluttered the slightest bit over her half-lidded eyes.

I tipped her chin, needing to see her. When our eyes met, I was certain they were mirror images of hunger and want.

My heart pounding, I bent down and put my lips to hers. I kept the kiss soft, closed-mouth, a feather of a touch.

She stood on tiptoes and pushed for more, so I took it even deeper. She let out a breath and my tongue slid inside her mouth, tasting her. Wasabi and cranberry from the cosmo commingled with her strawberry gloss, and I was ravenous for more. She was soft, silky perfection, not like me. I was rough around the edges, but I pushed my fears of snagging on her to the back of my mind. I wasn’t going to let my jagged imperfections get in the way.

The microwave beeped, her tea long forgotten, disturbing our moment. I wanted to take a baseball bat to it. Charli simply raised her hand, hit a button, and brought the hand back to wander my cheek.

I leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “God, what you do to me. Do you get it? I’ve been chasing you across the whole country just for that moment.”

Her knuckles grazed my chin, my stubble prickling her smooth skin. “I’m sorry we waited so long.”

“I’m not. Good things are worth the wait. The best is worth waiting even longer.”

“You’re the only one who ever got to me, made me believe I could have it all.”

“You can,” I assured her.

But could I? Where was this going?

I refused to let my overactive mind ruin this moment so I bent back down to taste her, my hand weaving through her long hair and around her neck. I kissed along her cheek and jawline, licking and sucking my way to her ear. I ran my nose over her skin, inhaling her scent, stopping right at the tat.

“What’s this?” I nibbled on her ear, unable to make my lips or teeth stop.

“Some people call it the maloik, or the evil eye,” she said, closing her eyes as she tilted her head back. “It supposedly wards off evil curses and provides protection and clarity. I needed it for me. To remind me not to curse myself.”

My lips grazed the eye and murmured, “Christ, you’re perfect.”

My erection pressed against her stomach, and when I leaned into her, she climbed my leg so it hit her where it mattered. I grabbed her ass and lifted her, thrilled when she wrapped her legs around my waist and moaned.

My hand found its way inside the back of her jeans, exploring the globes of her ass. Firm, smooth, more perfection. Then she pressed harder into me, and for a second, I feared blacking out.

She pulled back an inch and murmured, “Let’s go to my room.”

“Which way?”

“Back there.”

I carried her, her legs locked around me, our mouths fused.

She hit the light switch as I crossed the threshold, revealing a bed that was a sea of lilac and pillows. I laid her down and used my arm to swipe the pillows on the floor, and then I simply stared at her for a beat. Charli, her chest rising and falling, her hair splayed all around her in a golden wash over the lavender, her lip gloss smudged on her lips.

I stretched out next to her, still in the habit of not lying on top, even though I hadn’t fucked someone in months. There were only two women since I’d met Charli—one-night stands, blah and boring. My vision turned red for a moment as my thoughts ran to Charli with someone over the last few months.

“You okay?” she asked, pushing the hair off my forehead with her delicate fingers.

I nodded. I knew better than to start this talk right now. She didn’t think I was going to forgive her; she wasn’t going to wait for me. And I didn’t think she’d ever walk back my way with how fast she ran away.

I slipped my hand under her sweater and explored the expanse of her smooth, flat stomach. Inching up toward her breasts, my finger traced her bra as my mouth found hers again. I wanted to get closer, to feel it all.

“Can I take this off?”

This time she nodded and I tugged her sweater over her head, then slid my hand over her hot pink bra. I pulled the right cup down and made my way toward her nipple with my tongue. I licked and laved, sucked and nibbled. She moaned and arched. It was a wet dream come to life.

Charli turned a little more on her side and ran her hands under my Henley and up my back, skin to skin. I stopped kissing her to rest my forehead on hers, and took a deep breath. I knew what was coming and braced myself.

She pulled my shirt off, keeping her eyes on me the entire time. I stared back, hoping she wouldn’t look at my body. I wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t so bad anymore. A little extra skin around my love handles. A scar on my pec from when I fell playing soccer when I was little. Someone’s cleat caught my shirt, digging right through it into my flesh, and I needed fifteen stitches.

I was so caught up in my memories, Charli caught me by surprise when she ran her tongue over my flat nipple, her finger tracing that scar.

I took her hand in mine and held it tight between our bodies as I shifted closer. We were skin to skin, except for the bra. I unhooked it and ran my free hand down her back into her pants and pulled her close. We ground on each other like a couple of teens afraid to get caught with their pants down.

“I still think there are too many clothes involved,” I murmured against her lips. I felt her nod and moved our connected hands down.

She went for my belt and I went for her button fly. We made quick work of them and shimmied out of our pants. I used my foot to divest her of the skinny jeans caught around her ankles and then she returned the favor, not a hot or sexy move but it did the trick. She yanked my pants down and flung them in the air. It felt familiar, almost like something we did at the end of every day, and for some reason that thought warmed me.

“Fuck, you’re stunning.”

I ran a hand over her ass. Her thong was hot pink, like her bra, and rested perfectly on her ass crack. I pushed her on her back and straddled her, taking my time once again with her mouth, but my tongue itched to taste her.

Was that too presumptuous? My dick lurched in my boxer briefs, encouraging me to hurry and sample her. No way was I doing that. If there ever was a moment to take my time, it was now.

I inched lower, my body sliding down hers until my tongue came into contact with her hard nipples. I circled each one and made my way down her stomach. The tip of my tongue trailed her vanilla-scented skin, leaving goose bumps in its path. When I breathed across her stomach and traced the lacy edge of her underwear with my tongue, her back arched off the bed.

In my life, I’d never been so happy to get the green light. I tugged her pink panties down and feasted my eyes on what was in front of me. A dusting of a landing strip shimmering with wetness—I assumed for me.

I had to think of something quickly—geometry, calculus—because my load was about to blow. It had been years since I’d done that in my boxers and right now, just the picture of Charli spread for me, glistening and groomed, was doing me in.

I traced her lips with my finger, and unable to stop myself, slid one inside her, floating off to paradise with her moan. I ducked my head and followed the same path with my tongue. Working in sync with my finger, the two reveled in each arch of her body in response.

Without warning, she came on a long breath, releasing my nickname into the air. “Lay.”

“I got you.”

She continued to vibrate against my mouth and then tugged on my hair. “I want you.”

I wanted to ask her to say it again, but I couldn’t force myself to admit I needed the affirmation.

My heart pounding like a fucking drum, I lifted off her small frame and found my jeans, taking a condom from the back pocket and ripping the packet open. I shoved down my boxers and gloved myself, feeling her watch me from under her long lashes, the biggest fucking aphrodisiac ever. Then I moved back on top of her, carefully bracing my weight on one elbow and guiding myself to her with the other hand. I slid in slowly, relishing each second. Every inch brought a wave of new sensation, another palpitation in my heart.

When I was fully in, I stopped and closed my eyes. It was too much. The beauty of her beneath me, the ache in my balls, the longing to go hard, the desire to stay balls-deep inside Charli was too fucking much. All it took was one roll of her hips and I started moving, and when I opened my eyes to see the gorgeous woman below, I found her eyes fixed on me
.

Me.

With every thrust, she kept running her hands all over me, up my chest and down my back, finally gripping my ass as she threw her head back on a long moan and I couldn’t wait any longer. I spilled myself, filling the condom, and when my breathing finally slowed, reached down to make sure the sucker stayed on as I pulled out. I removed it, tied it, and tossed in a small garbage can next to her bed, and gathered Charli in my arms.

Kissing her, smoothing her hair, I asked, “Was that okay?”

She buried her head in my chest. “Why did we wait?”

“Stop,” I said.

“Now I’ll always wonder if it would have been this good then—”

“Shhh,” I said. “It’s perfect now.”

Holding her close was the closest I’d ever been to heaven. As she lay there nestled against me, I pulled her tighter, unable to believe how lucky I was.

But I’d never even dreamed she’d want the old me.

I
lay sated on the bed, my hair a rat’s nest, my inner thighs sticky and aching, and I couldn’t move if you paid me.

What if this
and
what if that
ran through my head. What would it have been like before? To make love, to fuck Layton? Would I have been on top?

“Hey, come here,” he called from my bathroom, forcing me to discontinue the litany of what-ifs roaming the open plain of my mind.

I shimmied out of the bed and wrapped myself in a chenille throw. Pushing the door semi-open, I said, “Yeah?”

“Come here,” he said, this time softly.

I walked into the bathroom to find the tub almost filled, steam rising off the water as Layton poured a small bottle of shower gel under the spout.

When he looked up at me, his eyes were burning with hunger again. “I thought you might like to relax in here.”

He’d pulled his khakis back on but hadn’t buttoned them, letting them ride low on his waist, revealing a small trail of hair that led to where his now familiar penis resided.

“You good?” he asked.

A warm blush crept up my chest at being caught staring.

I nodded. “I’m good. That actually looks so incredible . . . amazing actually.”

“Great. Get in,” he said and held out his hand.

I wasn’t sure if he meant he was coming in after me or what, but I took his hand. The blanket fell to the floor, and he held me steady as I stepped in one foot at a time and slid down into the warm bubbles.

“Want a candle?”

When I nodded, he grabbed a book of matches from the tray holding my favorite candle and lit it, releasing a hint of persimmon into the air.

“You relax. Do you have any wine I can open? Or do you want some water?”

I shook my head. “No, but there’s a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge.”

He went out, leaving the door slightly ajar, and I missed him already.