“And I loved every bit of it. I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers, looking up through her lashes.
“Me too—”
“It took you an entire month to text me.”
“I—” There’s no good explanation for that. “I was a coward, and I’m sorry.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Ma helped. She told me losing someone you love isn’t a tragedy. The tragedy is never loving. Sappy as it sounds, there’s some truth there.”
She sighs. “I don’t know about that. If something happened to you, I’d never be the same.”
“That’s another thing I was worried about. That’s why I thought I should keep my distance. What my mom said made me think, but it wasn’t the final answer.”
“Yeah? So, what was?”
“Wyatt. He has a huge crush on Meadow,” I say, grinning when I think of that clown with the little gardener.
“That’s sweet, but what does that have to do with us?” Dakota asks.
“You remember how Wyatt lost everything because of his ex-wife and bad habits? I never thought he’d survive, honestly, let alone make the turnaround he has. If he can still find it in him to love after everything he went through...why can’t I? Especially when I’ve got one hell of a gorgeous reason to live to my fullest.”
She kisses me, softly and sweetly, tempting me with that mouth.
“How’s he doing, anyway?”
“Much better. He’s holed up in my guesthouse, mostly watching bad TV and messing around with Meadow when she visits him...” I run my fingers through her hair. “Enough about them. There’s an angel in my lap, and I haven’t seen her in a fucking month. Wyatt is not what I’m wasting breath on.”
When we pull up to my place, our lips are fused, my hand running up her thigh. Every time I feel her wetness, I sink my teeth into her lip.
Louis has to gently tap the privacy screen down to remind me we’re home.
I climb out first with a muttered apology, holding the door for Dakota, and then roll her bike to the garage. I pull her to me and hold her for a long moment before leading her inside.
“Damn, it’s so good having you home.”
She shows me she knows, leaning up on her toes and pressing her lips to mine with wild abandon. She flicks her tongue against my lips, and when I open my mouth, she sucks my bottom lip.
I sigh out my soul, my hands falling to her ass, digging my fingers into her curves.
I’ll mark her tonight, I swear to God. Possibly for life.
My jealousy, my greed, all my darker impulses can’t be bad if they’re all for her, can they?
I wonder.
And I wonder a lot more when she looks up with her eyes so hot, so shiny, her lips parted.
“I love you, Lincoln Burns.” She swallows hard. “I...I had to say it.”
I pull her in, holding her like she’s closer than my own shadow.
“I love you too, Dakota. Love you so hard it drives me batty. You have no idea.”
“I don’t know. The raven with the scroll gave me some idea.”
“The bird doesn’t scratch the surface.” I lead her inside, thinking we’ll sit on the balcony for a minute or two.
We’ll see how long it takes for the madness in my balls to drive us to bed.
We get exactly two steps outside before she’s pinned against the wall, whimpering real sweet for me.
I’m on my knees, flicking up her skirt, my mouth roaming up her thighs.
Neither of us care if half the city can see. I’ll eat her until she screams with the entire world watching, and the moon for good measure.
“Lincoln,” she whispers, raking her nails through my hair.
It just encourages me to take her panties down with my teeth. I don’t even let her step out and leave them on the ground before I go to work.
My tongue sweeps up her seam, tasting her hot little cunt.
There goes my mind.
There go my fingers, a knuckle pressed to her clit, adding fire my tongue can’t.
There goes my girl.
I catch her as she slides down the wall, holding her up while I tongue-fuck her to kingdom come.
And goddamn, does she come for me.
When I feel her tension, her rhythm, and that puff that’s half curse and all groan in my ears, I quicken my lashes.
I tear her orgasm out like I want it to hurt. She goes off, all molten pleasure, trembling against my face as I grab her ass and mold her to my mouth.
Fuck yeah, Nevermore.
I make her ride my face to the last tremor.
Then she slowly, sweetly, deliriously collapses in my arms. I pepper her face with kisses, bringing her home.
I love that I can afford to be slow and tender, even if my pulsing cock disagrees. From this point on, we have the rest of our lives.
“Ready, sweetheart?” I whisper when she finally looks up.