Page 49 of Dahlia Made A List

He grunted, reaching to his back pocket and pulling his wallet free. He set it beside me on the table and I clenched my thighs around his legs. If he touched me now, he’d find me wet already. My nipples stung with every breath I took, pebbled against my bra. My entire body shuddered.

He cupped both hands around my neck, his thumbs tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “Pretty?”

With a wobbly grin, I nodded, words too hard to string together. My eyes focused on his lips. My own tingled, the memory of the last time I’d pressed them against his spiking my awareness. His smile disappeared, but his lush lower lip taunted me and only his hold kept me from leaning up and taking a bite.

He slid his hands, over my shoulders, down my arms to the bottom hem of my T-shirt. Before I could blink, he whipped it over my head and his fingers unfastened my bra. I shivered when he tugged the lacy scrap of fabric down my arms and I was suddenly naked from the waist up before Wyatt.

He wrapped his hands around my waist, tugging me to the edge of the table and my pulse skittered. “You’re making me crazy, you know that? Diggin’ in under my skin.”

Exhilaration raced like fire along my skin, anticipation zinging through me and lighting up my every nerve . . . I couldn’t remember ever feeling the sort of edgy excitement coursing through me now.

My gaze skated from his sinful lips to his heavy-lidded eyes. Then he lowered his head and he kissed me.

I gasped into his mouth, the tiny hairs along the backs of my arms lifted and the starling living in my chest swooped and swirled in feverish delight. I gripped his biceps, holding on for dear life, as he tipped his head to change his angle and took full possession of my mouth.

My world tilted.

He pushed his tongue past my lips, sliding wet and sure over my own, claiming territory I happily yielded. I curled my ankles around his legs and pressed up against his muscled chest. His hair-roughened skin dragged over my sensitized nipples and I couldn’t hold back a groan.

He moved from my mouth to lave hungry kisses along my cheek, to my jaw, down my neck until I arched and stretched to give him more skin to claim.

“Oh, please. Please,” I sighed, my fingers clutching his shoulders, sliding into his dark hair.

And as much as I loved his kiss, I wanted, needed, more. The excitement zinging through me demanded more. The wetness between my legs might have embarrassed me another day. But I needed this man. This man, only this man.Wyatt. No one else had a chance of assuaging the riot of need inside me.

His hands slid around my back and pressed me even harder against the wall of his chest. His strength enthralled me, but these touches weren’t enough.

I fumbled between us with the fastenings of his jeans, but he stepped back and grabbed my feet, pulling off my shoes and lifting me to drag my pants off. Awareness shot from my scalp to skitter all the way down to the tips of my toes, needling and hot over every inch of my greedy body. I fell back onto the table, only my head landing atop my bag stopping me from turning into a pile of goo.

He coasted his big hands along my thighs, wedging them up on his hips as he took in the sight of me. I writhed with another shudder, bit my lip as his gaze scorched my bare skin.

“Wyatt,” I said, the words a thready murmur. A demand? Or was I begging? I would beg. If it meant he touched me, I would beg, no problem. “Touch me, please.”

Chapter Seventeen

Wyatt

“Ilikelookin’,”Itold her, as I smoothed my hands down her legs. “You’ve got these strong thighs from all your skatin’, yeah? But so soft.”

I wanted to shove my cock against her soft, slick flesh. Feel her softness yield to me. With her legs parted and her thighs wide, her flesh glistened. The intimate sight of her, a sight I’d never dared hope to witness, shot straight to my dick, already torturous and painfully hard behind my zipper. The moment I let the bastard out, my restraint would be fucked and I’d be balls deep in Dahlia. In heaven.

The last few days had done a number on my resolve. I wasn’t looking for anything she wanted: not permanence, not family, not commitment. I was broken. She deserved a healthy, whole man. Besides that, I wouldn’t subject my own kids to the struggles I had growing up. And I wasn’t gonna be the asshole to wreck Dahlia’s determination to change her future.

But then she ghosted me, leaving me with an odd chafing sensation at the back of my neck and an inability to stop the constant flood of images from flashing through my mind. I’d thought about her in my lap the other day. About the way she put herself between me and my prick of an uncle.

And I thought about how my girl was impulsive and loyal and sweet as the day was long, but she wasn't a planner. The idea of the trip she’d been looking forward to being ruined or her getting cold when the sun went down . . . I didn’t let myself think too much about the reason why, but I’d hauled my sorry ass all the way out here, half-way up the fuckin’ mountain. I’d drop off the pack full of all the things I had no doubt she’d forgotten to bring along on her adventure, and turn right back around.

She’d ghosted me. And I did not chase after anyone, sweet and loyal or not. But the idea of her not having anything to sleep on or hot food to eat made the skin between my shoulder blades itch.

Then she’d caught sight of me and before I could blink, she’d come running. Jumping into my arms like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

And she kissed me.

No confusion, decision made. She’d set her list aside. No reason for me to change her mind.

Looking down at her now, her curvy body splayed out atop the table like a gift from the heavens, thoughts about the resolve behind her list and my inability to give her the future she wanted scattered. I turned away from a lot in life. No fuckin’ way was I turning away from this woman.

With my palms flush to her soft skin, I smoothed them up from her waist, stopping just below her breasts. Hunger gnawing at my restraint, I swept my thumbs along the underside of her tits, growling as she arched into my touch. She wanted more and I wanted to give it to her.

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