Page 107 of The Wrecked One

“Want me to kiss you there, do you?” His seductive tone officially stamped out the pain and turmoil of the past four months, as I officially forgot everything, remembering only the passion that had existed between us BT and was just as strong, maybe even more so, now.

Too turned on to speak, I simply nodded.

Another sly smile cut across his lips as he let go of me to take off his shirt. He urged me backward until I fell onto the bed. Hands on each side of me, I remained upright so I could watch him, wanting to commit every moment passing between us to memory, in every glorious detail. Borrow his photographic mind for those captivating minutes.

He lowered before me and settled a warm palm behind each of my knees, his lips sliding along the inside of my thigh as he draped my legs over his shoulders.

Burying his face between my legs, he leaned forward and flicked his tongue against my clit.

“Oh. My. Fu—” My mouth clamped around the last word, losing the ability to continue speaking as he licked and sucked like he was worried he’d never taste me again.

That thought terrified me enough to send me sitting up a bit to savor the visual of the moment. I also needed to remind myself this was only one of many more times to come. We had a long lifetime of bliss heading our way.

I clawed at his hair as he ravished me. “Oliver. Oh, God.” With my voice working again, I cried out the only truth I could sink my teeth into. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Pant, pant, pant,” he teased. Apparently my words had come out much breathier than I’d realized, but I loved him jabbing me back for my “grunt” comment in Canada without missing a beat.

That’s my guy.

“And yeah, you could say I’ve missed you, too,” he added in a husky voice before returning to his current mission of getting me off.

When he was laser-focused on something, the man could move mountains, and he brought me closer to God with that tongue of his.

Clutching the bedding instead of his hair, I bucked against his face, coming hard. My body collapsed as he kissed the inside of my knee while lowering my feet to the floor.

“Like old times?” He stood, staring down at me while swiping the pad of his thumb along the underside of his lip. “Ride out your orgasm on my cock?” He lowered his slacks and boxer briefs to the floor but didn’t step free from them. His strong hand slid up and down his hard length from root to tip.

Part of me was scared I’d wake up and discover this was a dream. But it’s real. He was back on the team, and he wanted to live. To fight for us.

He stopped stroking himself when I’d yet to talk. “You okay?”

“I don’t want old times,” I admitted. “I want a fresh start. New memories. A new beginning.” I chewed on my lip. “Will you tell me again what you said to me in this room yesterday but . . . well, more directly?”

His eyes narrowed as if trying to connect the dots, then the muscles in his face visibly relaxed. He took a moment to completely rid himself of his clothes and shoes, then took off the chain from around his neck and set it on the dresser.

Sliding from the bed, I removed every last barrier between us. Dress with built-in bra now gone, all that was left was the dangly earrings Sydney had given me and the matching clip that held my hair pinned around one shoulder. Standing naked before him, we quietly locked on to each other’s eyes. He was breathing slowly, and I matched him breath for breath.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it. “Oliver,” I began, my throat thick with emotion, “I know this is a wild time to say this, and it should wait until after we both wake up from this nightmare we’ve been stuck in, but?—”

“I’m awake.” He shook his head. “I’m already awake.” One sole tear fell down his cheek, and he caught it with his tongue. “You brought me back to life in Canada when you showed up in the woods that day. And no matter how much I’ve tried to fight it . . . I’ve been awake ever since.” He captured my cheeks between his palms. “I fell for you a long time ago, and I’ve been falling ever since.” He went quiet for a beat before saying those three words I craved. “I love you.” He brushed his smile against my lips, urging one to light up my face as well. “You didn’t give up on me, and I promise to never again give up on us.”

I couldn’t not cry at that. At his words. His promise. His love.

“You’re right,” he went on, “now is a wild time to say this. But it’s also very much us, isn’t it? Old us. New us. It doesn’t matter. As long as?—”

“We’re together,” I cried, pressing up on my toes. “I love you. So freaking much. The only place I plan to run now is to you, or at least, alongside you.” He deserved a promise from me as well, given what I’d put him through in the past. “Never from you.” I kissed him softly, gently, reverently. “And that limo-window visor thingy is down for good?” I sputtered, and a small chuckle left his mouth at my choice of words.

He let go of a deep exhalation at the end of his light laugh. “I still have work to do on myself, but for you, I’ll crack the window. Shatter it for good.”

“I can work with that.”

He leaned in and kissed me, tenderly at first, then more deeply as his hands left my cheeks to free my hair from the clip.

As he tangled his fingers through my locks, I smashed my body flush to his, feeling the heavy weight of his erection against me.

“No pulling out. No condom.” My mind was made up. No more being scared.

His lips went still against mine.

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