Sweet Dandelion
He leans his hip against the doorway, his left arm stretched wide holding the door open. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants now, and looks ready to crash.
He doesn’t say anything, neither do I. His exhale is the only sound that fills the air when he steps aside, letting me in. I can barely get around him with my poufy dress.
I look around, taking in the cardboard boxes sitting against the wall. “What are those for?”
His eyes swing to me and back to them, looking distant. “Getting rid of a few things.” He runs his fingers through his hair, his lips pinched. He crosses his arms, leaning his back against the door.
“Was prom not enjoyable?” His tone is a tad snarky, but when he looks away I have a feeling it’s himself he’s irritated with and not me.
“It was fun, but it’s just a dance.”
“You should be out doing things with your friends. Normal things with other teenagers. You shouldn’t be here with me.”
“But I want to be here with you.” I smile at Zeppelin when he cracks a sleepy eye open from his cushion. Apparently it’s past his bedtime.
“Why do you do this to me, Dani?” He looks like I’ve stabbed a knife into his heart.
“Do what?” I ask innocently, completely baffled.
He scrubs his hands over his face. “I’m trying to do the right thing by giving you space, but then you show up here and it’s not fair. How can I be expected to stay away from you when you’re right here?” The words start pouring out of him and he swings his hand in my direction. “Seeing you in the elevator tonight was a punch to the chest, because you’re beautiful and you feel like mine, but you’re so young, and I can’t take you to your prom because it’s fucking wrong. I can’t take you on a proper date. I can’t … We can’t, be seen together.”
“Stop repeating things I already know,” I growl like a cornered animal. “I get it, okay. You don’t have to keep telling me. I know, believe me. But what about what I feel?” I touch my fingers to my heart. “Huh? Does that matter at all? That I want to be with you, that I want you to hold me? That I want to kiss you? Make love with you?”
A muscle in his jaw ticks.
“What about the letters you left me? You … you said you love me.” My voice grows small as I become unsure of myself.
There’s something in his eyes that I can’t decipher. Something I’m missing.
“Lachlan—”
In a blink he’s upon me, his mouth taking mine prisoner. He’s rough, demanding. His hold on my cheeks is tight and I find my back pressed against the wall.
He claws at me like a wild animal, bunching the tulle of my skirt in his hands, trying to yank it up.
I kiss him back with fervor, a spark igniting into an entire fire inside me from one touch of his lips. I match his desperation, pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head.
He tosses the shirt off like he can’t get it far enough away from him.
His eyes are twin sapphires blazing when he looks down at me. His whole body is a taut live wire waiting to go off.
“If you don’t tell me how to get you out of this dress, I’ll rip it off of you.”
The gentle, kind Lachlan of our first time is gone. In his place is this wild beast of a man. I’m a tad frightened, but there’s something intriguing seeing this side of him.
I turn around, sweeping my hair away that’s fallen loose from its up-do, thanks to his greedy fingers.
Turning around, I place my hands flat on the wall, angling my head to the side so he can see the zipper in the back.
He says nothing as he grabs the tiny zipper between his thumb and index finger, slowly lowering it. The dress loosens around my body and I feel the top begin to fall down my arms. My bare back is exposed to him. He sucks in a breath.
“You’re not wearing a bra.”
It’s a statement, but I respond anyway. “You can’t exactly wear one with a dress like this.”
“No,” his voice is gruff, huskier than normal, “I suppose you can’t. Lower your arms.”
I do what he says and the top of the dress falls easily from my body. His big body presses in behind me and I stifle a moan when he kisses the back of my neck.