Page 96 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
“No.” She snorted. “It smells like you.” She kissed him, then buried her face in his neck, inhaling to make him laugh.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Stop smelling so good, then.” She walked to the bed. “Which side do you normally sleep on?”
“The middle.”
“Perfect. You can curl around me on either side. I prefer being the little spoon.”
“Somehow, I knew that.”
Lucky was under Maverick’s covers in record time, turning her back to him. As instructed, he curved his body around her, sliding one arm across her chest, holding her close just under her breasts. He kissed the back of her neck before she felt their shared pillow dip when he relaxed. She bided her time by counting his breaths before rolling over to face him. “Maverick.”
“Lucky.” He was already smiling, clearly amused. He was also topless.
On a scale of one to ten, he broke it because he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She touched his arm, loving the smooth texture of his skin and the way it hugged his muscles. “So, how do you like to be touched?”
“You’re doing just fine.” He kissed her once and had her in the palm of his hand.
“If you need to—”
“See, that’s it though. IfIneed to.” He propped himself up on his elbow. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do but that isn’t what I need. It’s not that simple.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.” His gaze dropped to the sheets, but she wasn’t going to let him run away from her. They’d come too far. She pressed her forehead against his, making him look at her. His eyes burned with conflict, seeming even darker.
“Explain it to me.”
“I already know it’ll make you feel bad. It’s not your fault and I don’t want you thinking it is.”
“Noted,” she said. “Tell me anyway.”
He caressed her cheek, across her jaw, and down the lines of her neck. She fought to keep her breathing even. It might not have been sexual, but his touch absolutely did something to her. She felt those sensations in vivid detail, every blissful second as he moved across her skin.
No one had ever made her feel that way. No one had ever held her so delicately in their hands that if they were to crush her, she’d come back for more. But he would never do that to her. Because he proved how precious she was to him.
Maybe that was it. The inherent safety in his touch had irrevocably changed her.
“In my dreams, you always talk in riddles,” he began. “Everything you say is designed to torment me. You’re not even supposed to be there. I dream about monsters and phantoms, demons and misery, worlds with no rules other than pain. I’ve made my way through, taking what I want, controlling what I can’t for years, and now suddenly there’s you. Deep in the heart of me every night.”
The ferocity in his eyes left her breathless. Mesmerized—no better word for the control he had over her in that moment.
“I can’t write about you. Every night I hope you’re there so I’llhave another chance to figure out how your dream story will end. Because when I’m awake I think about you too much, too often. I can’t stop. I’m so desperate for you it’s shameful. Every part of me is overpowered by you all the time. I hide it because I don’t understand how this happened. I can’t write about you. I can’t make sense of it.”
Lucky grinned. “That’s why you said you wanted to see where this goes. How long have you been dreaming about me?” she teased.
He bit his lip. “You know me, and I see you. I don’t want to feel your indifference. I can’t because I think it’ll break me.”
She exhaled a delicate laugh. “If I wasn’t okay with having sex, please trust me when I say I would haveneveroffered. I would’ve gone out of my way to avoid even talking about it. Wanting you to clue me in doesn’t mean I’mindifferent.”
“The way you keep talking about it makes it seem like that’s exactly what’ll happen. Your whole focus is on me. Like, you need me to ask because it’s some obligation you’ve convinced yourself you need to fulfill,” he said, disbelief on full display. “I have never once brought up sex. You’re the one who keeps doing it.”
“Because I knowyou’rethinking about it and trying to hide it. And it’s not an obligation. It’s…kindness?”
“No, it isn’t.” His smile had almost returned.
“It’s…it’s…understanding?”
