Page 81 of Her Wild Coast Refuge

“It’s over,” Dawson interrupts, grazing my ear with his teeth. “Brielle signed.”

I grip his face and stare into his eyes. “Dawson, ohmigawd.” We kiss again, but my emotions rise so fast through me I can’t get a breath. “Take me home. Please.”

ChapterTwenty-One

DAWSON

I grabher hand and pull her through the crowd. Once we clear the festival’s exit, I will my galloping heart to slow down, but it only thumps harder.

We weave through the cars to the truck, the music from the festival fading.

Lexie pulls her keys from her backpack, but I snatch them from her fingers. “Get in.”

Her eyes flash, but she climbs into the passenger side. I wish this was an older model, with a bench seat. I also wish it wasn’t her brother’s truck.

During the drive, we don’t talk. The high from playing with Jared’s band bounces through me. That Lexie planned this—for me—stirs emotions I haven’t faced since that night in Three Rivers. My skin prickles.

Is this really be happening? I’m really free?

Could I really be on the brink of starting the life I’ve always wanted?

The dusk closes in around us, washing the foothills with a golden glow. Driving with the windows cracked, I savor the colors filling in the horizon and the warmth from Lexie’s hand on my thigh. I try to tamp down my anticipation, but fuck has it been a long four years.

Four years without warmth. Without tenderness. Or desire.

That all changes tonight.

By the time we finally reach the driveway, my core is a writhing ball of fire.

I lean over and kiss her, my breath tight in my chest. She kisses me back. Her lips are warm and tender, and the quiet of the cab heightens my senses. When I break away, her hazel eyes sparkle with hunger and delight.

I’m overcome with a sense of gratitude and relief. No more holding out for the end. It’s here.

It’s time to begin.

I kiss her forehead, then step down and walk to her side. She jumps into my arms. Laughing, I bump the door shut, then carry her to the porch. A reckless energy tingles down my spine. In the little alcove I kiss Lexie while punching the code with shaking fingers.

Lexie kisses me back, her breaths quickening. Once inside, I tell myself to slow down, to savor these moments, but things like logic and patience feel impossible.

The big house is quiet and still. The last of the light in the sky creates a cozy warmth inside, like a safe haven. My pulse taps hard in my temples. I set Lexie on her feet and lower my lips to hers, savoring the sweet honey scent of her hair and the warmth from her body. Her eyes flutter closed and she wraps her arms around my neck. Her little tongue flicks against mine, making me crazy.

The soft swell of her breasts rises and falls against my chest as we stand there kissing. I can’t get enough of her playful little tongue and her soft lips, and yet I want more. It’s an intoxicating rush, like I’m an exploding star racing through the galaxy. Her hips roll into me, grinding against my erection.

I kiss down to her neck and press my lips to the place behind her ear. She sucks in a needy breath. Moving down, I kiss to her collarbone. She runs her fingers through my hair, the scrape of her nails sending prickles over my skin.

I want to explore every inch of her. Savor every sigh and groan and tremor of pleasure. In a hurry now, I nip at her breasts, and she jolts. I tug off her shirt and return for more, grazing her hard peaks with the edge of my teeth.

“Dawson,” she gasps, arching to me.

Planting fervent kisses down her belly, I sink to my knees and unbutton her shorts. They fall to the floor, revealing a scrap of blue fabric. Closing my eyes, I kiss along the seam, the scent of her arousal filling my senses.

I need to taste her.

Warning bells blare in my mind—to slow down, to savor each second, but I’m overcome with my own thirst. Like I’ve been on a long trek through the hot, dry desert, and she’s the first taste of cool, fresh water.

I tug the fabric down and press my mouth to her tender, plush pussy. Just the warmth and softness of her on my lips is heaven.

She tastes like rain and lemons, like lust.

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