His hands roved over my breasts, between my legs, his breathing coming out in ragged moans against my neck as he pressed his hardened length into my thigh. I grabbed his hair in my fists, directing his mouth to mine once again, writhing underneath his touch, groaning with stinging need, reveling in the staccato beats of my quickening heart.
He positioned his body between my legs and pushed himself against me, just the tip of him teasing at my entrance, his face buried in my neck, his voice rasping, “Oh God, Lay. I’ve only got so much restraint, here. I need to be inside you.”
Chapter 7
ASSISTED LIVING
The ache in his voice caused the tremors to start, made my heart race with anticipation. He was always able to do this to me. Always able to drive me over the brink with just a few spoken words, a few well-executed touches. Oh, please. Who am I kidding? He could look at me the right way and it was enough to make me fall to pieces.
I know it may seem odd that we were hooking up while the repast was still happening downstairs. But I didn’t let myself feel too guilty. Trip was entitled to a little happiness after all he’d been through. We were allowed to embrace life.
I ran my fingers over the pale scars at his forearm, the remnants from when he broke it years before, a faint reminder of the self-destructive boy he once was. It was at total odds with the reformed man in my arms, the generous, thriving person he’d become. It wasn’t an easy transition to make, and he’d worked really hard to come so far.
So, I knew Trip needed this. He needed to know he was still breathing. Needed to know that he’d kicked his habit—when his father couldn’t—and that he wouldn’t end up on a slab before the age of sixty. At least not from drinking, anyway. He needed to feel alive. He needed to feel loved. Hell, I needed it.
It was amazing, knowing this man loved me. That was a fact. Our timing may have sucked, but the feelings had already been confirmed. Years ago.
At least his were.
He didn’t know that I had chosen to love him back. I needed to rectify that right now. I took a deep breath and said the words I thought I’d never get the chance to say to him, the words I’d never allowed myself to say. Well, not on purpose anyway.
“I love you.”
He lifted his head and looked at me in disbelief. “What?”
Oh God. Too soon? Is this just supposed to be sex right now?
I wanted to die. I wanted to stuff the words back into my mouth, wishing I’d never said them. Maybe I could laugh and play it off like a joke, like I didn’t really mean it.
No. I immediately shook the negative thoughts aside. I would not go down this road again. I would never fail to put my heart on the line when it came to Trip ever again. We’d lost too much time because of my insecurities and our inability to communicate properly.
Never. Again.
I put my hands on either side of his neck, my thumbs brushing along his jaw. I was scared, but I looked directly into his eyes and said it again. “I’m in love with you, Trip. I love you. I always have.”
It looked as though he’d been slapped in the face by my words. Pain drifted across his features as he dropped his head and shook it. “I know.”
Not the words I was imagining, and the unexpectedness made me laugh.
“You know? Oh my God. Did you just Han Solo me?”
I felt him shaking with laughter against my body before any sound came out of his mouth. When it did, it sent us both into a fit of giggles, as I jokingly tried to shove the big galoot off of me.
“Okay. Where’s my dress? This was a big mistake. I take it back. I meant to say ‘Up yours, Chester’.”
He pinned me to the mattress with his heavy body, settling himself between my legs again, explaining, “You didn’t let me finish! I was trying to say I know you love me. I know, and it’s incredible.” He looked down at me, his eyes a shifting pool of blue, the corner of his lip quirked into a lopsided smile as he gently swiped my hair behind my ear. He buried his face against my neck, his breath tickling against my skin as he whispered softly, “Because I am completely in love with you right back.”
It only took fifteen freaking years, but we managed to finally recite our lines properly. I love you. Well, I love you, too. Jesus. Isn’t that how normal people do it?
He raised his head and smiled into my eyes as he requested, “Say it again.”
“What? Han Solo? Does that turn you on, nerd? Should I Leia my hair and throw on a gold bikini?” God, he was so cute. Just look at that face.
His grin was infectious. “Yes. Eventually. But right now I just want to hear you say it. Say it again.”
I stopped laughing and met his eyes. “I love y—”
My words were cut off with a gasp as he slid into me with a groan; proudly, confidently, holding himself still, letting my body get used to the feel of him inside me. Again.
It was as if he’d never left me, as if the two of us had always been joined together, as if we were always meant to be.
He didn’t. We had. We were.
“Say it again.”