Page 103 of Attached At Heart
“Then maybe you can do something for me,” I said.
“Anything,” Blake murmured, and my gaze flicked back to his eager one.
I had to swallow past the nerves threatening to choke me before answering. “Tell me the occasion calls for it.”
His brows shot up. “And what, exactly, is the occasion?”
“To say thank you,” I answered because it was all I could think of. “For this trip. For last night.”
Blake’s gaze heated at the mention of last night, lingering on my lips before sweeping around the rest of my face. I watched with bated breath as his lips twisted in barely concealed amusement. “You don’t have to kiss me to say thank you, Delaney. You can just say it.”
Damn him.
“I know, but?—”
“Just tell me what you really want,” he cut in. “No more games.”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “That’s not fair, considering how in the club you?—”
“I know. I’ll start, then. Would that be fair?”
I gave a slow nod, feeling more jittery than my first day of med school.
Probably because I met Blake within the first five minutes, and then everything was okay.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“I want to kiss you,” Blake said simply, making my head spin. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and then left his hand there, cupping my cheek. “Badly. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I’ve been thinking about it all morning, wondering if I’d get a chance to do it again. I want to kiss you, Delaney. And the next time I get a chance, I’m going to.”
I stared at him in awe before finding the courage to whisper, “I think you have a chance right now.” And when Blake still hesitated, I added, “It’s all I’ve been thinking about, too.”
“Delaney.” His gaze smoldered as he took in my words. “While I’m so fucking happy to hear that, you clearly don’tunderstand what the feel of your lips do to me if you think I can kiss you right now and still survive this plane ride back to Boston.”
“I could help you survive,” I offered, only half-aware of our surroundings at this point, my brain hazing over with an undeniable level of lust. I tried moving my fingers again, wanting to feel him, tohelphim, but Blake’s grip tightened on my wrist as he swore under his breath.
“Lane. Baby.” A rumble came from deep in his chest as he closed his eyes. “You don’t understand,” he croaked.
He was right about that. I didn’t understand a lot of this. But I did understand the way he made me feel and that I wanted more of it.
“I think I understand a little bit.” I smiled, enjoying his tortured look, enjoying the knowledge of what I could do to him.
“I don’t think you do.” He shook his head, leaning back, distancing himself from me. “Because just the thought of your lips, your mouth, your touch fucks me up so bad that I need to pretend you don’t exist for a few minutes.”
I thought at first that maybe he was exaggerating, but the way he tipped his head back and refused to look at me told a different story.
“Just picture me wearing that ridiculous helmet from the Vespa ride,” I offered with a light laugh.
To my surprise, that made Blake squeeze his eyes shut and grunt, “I don’t think that’s going to help.”
“Really?”
“Your hair was in braids that day. In a way that really made me want to tug on them and see how you’d respond.”
“Oh,” I said breathily, feeling that tug he’d described between my legs. “I…I guess I know how I’m doing my hair from now on.”
Blake groaned. “Not helping, Lane.”
I bit down on my lip, thinking for a second before offering, “What about the time in med school when?—”
