Page 102 of Attached At Heart
“What?” I glanced over at him, noting the way his jaw flexed. “You’ve never cared before when I scare off the women who try to use you because of Noah.”
“No.” He gave me a steady look that flared when I slipped my hand beneath the blanket and started trailing my hand up his inner thigh, tracing the seam of his pants. “I’ve never cared about that.”
No, he hadn’t.
I’d interrupted women who were hitting on him a number of times, and he’d never cared, had he? He let them walk away without so much as a glance their way and then turned to me with a knowing grin.
Like he’d known what I’d done.
Even if I hadn’t.
Oh my God, had Ialwaysbeen so?—
“Jealousy looks really fucking good on you, though, Lane,” Blake murmured in my ear, suddenly so close to me that I could feel his breath on my skin. “And it feels good, too.”
He found my wrist beneath the blanket and wrapped his fingers around it, stopping my movements.
“Toogood,” he rasped, leaning back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Also, Gemma’s going to love you when I tell her what youjust did. I hope you’re ready to actually go to that game with her because you’re definitely getting an invite now.”
“Of course. Happy to help out my new sister-in-law.”
“And Noah’s going to love that you just called her that. Fuck, I do, too.” His breathing grew more labored as I traced circles on his thigh despite not being able to move my wrist. “Shit, Delaney.”
My heartbeat was so loud I heard it pounding in my ears. “Something wrong?” I asked, half-teasing, half-serious.
Maybe I was being too forward. Maybe he didn’t want to continue whatever had happened between us on this honeymoon.
“Wrong?” He shook his head, eyes still closed. “God, you have no idea.”
Nerves tightened in my stomach as my brain rushed through the possibilities of what that might mean. I hesitated for a moment, debating, before I leaned over the space between our seats and lowered my voice, finding his ear. “Give me an idea, Blake. Please.”
He opened his eyes and dipped his head, facing me. Our mouths were only an inch apart, and after getting to taste him yesterday, I badly wanted to kiss him again. How many days had we been married? Was it more than twenty-one? Was that why kissing him and touching him already felt like a habit? Or why was I already so addicted to this, whateverthiswas?
Maybe this wasn’t new. MaybeIwas.
The cabin grew dark a second later, the lights dimming to allow for sleep on our trip across the Atlantic. Too bad I wasn’t tired. I was more awake than ever. Passengers’ screens cast the only soft glow in the plane. That, and Blake’s eyes. They shone through the darkness.
“You want to know what’s wrong?” he breathed.
I nodded.
Desperately. I desperately wanted to know. I didn’t want anything to be wrong. I wanted everything to be right. I wanted last night to be right. I wantedthisto be right.
“I’m not okay, Delaney,” he confessed. “Your hands are on me, and now all I can think of, all I can see, is you kneeling in front of me in that hot tub last night. How your mouth—” His husky words broke off momentarily as he got a grip on himself. Or tried to. “Fuck, Lane. And the way you just got possessive, I—” He swallowed. I watched his corded throat work. “How the fuck am I supposed to make it through this plane ride?”
I stared at him, stunned in a way. So he was right where I was, then. We were here, together.
“I shouldn’t even be saying these things to you,” he went on. “Not before we have a chance to talk about what happened. Not when I’m still not sure how you feel or what you want. I’m not trying to shy away from that conversation or what happened, but I wanted to give you time to process everything.”
“Do you need time?” I asked, wondering if that was what he was really trying to tell me. Because I didn’t feel like I needed time. My body didn’t feel like it wanted anything but him. More of him.
I held my breath while waiting for his response.
“No, Delaney,” he said slowly after a beat of silence. “I don’t need time. But it’s d—” He cut himself off, pressing his lips together. “I don’t need time,” he repeated instead, eyes wandering my face.
My eyes, on the other hand, lowered to his lips. They were close, with so many memories of last night attached to them.
I released a shaky breath, relieved by his response. And ignited by it.
