Page 70 of Ghost Note

With a roll and a moan that set my heart pounding faster, Danny was soon on top of me, his mouth still around my nipple and his tongue flicking.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.”

My hands were in his hair again, but it wasn’t long before Danny needed more.

Panting and breathless, he pulled back and began to unfasten my jeans. His eyes never left mine when he stepped back and began to tug them down, taking my underwear with him. I raised my arse to help and then flopped back down on the mattress while he pulled them off completely and discarded them on the floor. His hands ran over the skin of my stomach and legs reverently before he shook his head and blew out a breath.

Danny closed his eyes for just a moment, basking in a private thought I wasn’t privy to before he mouthed, “God help me,” and reached for the edges of his T-shirt. He pulled it over his head, revealing his tattooed chest for the very first time.

The sight of it took my breath away.

He’d always been athletic and strong, but now his tanned skin was hidden behind a lot of dark patches—the tattoos he’d had since my absence took over, transforming him from the sweet seaside boy I’d loved into the rock god I wasn’t familiar with.

His eyes found mine as he kicked off his boots and stepped out of his jeans. He stood before me in black fitted boxer shorts that showed off the strong V that had become so much more defined in recent years. His thumb dipped in the edges of his underwear, waiting, as though he needed my approval before he went on.

I gave it to him with a subtle nod, unable to stop myself from licking my bottom lip in anticipation. Danny’s eyes darkened at the sight of it, and he was soon freeing himself and stepping out of his boxes, his erection making me squeeze my legs together.

That was for me.

Tonight, it was mine.

He was on the bed in no time, climbing closer until he hovered over me, his lips parted as his hair hung forward. I ran my hands over his biceps, taking in the ink there before I let my palms trail down over his chest. There were musical notes, his parents’ initials, an electric guitar, and some words I couldn’t make out with only the soft glow of the bedroom lamp providing the light.

“We’re both different now,” I said quietly, studying the various ink he’d collected along the way. My fingers trailed up to his left shoulder, and I pulled his arm around to get a better look. Waiting for me was a single, giant, partially shaded daisy head taking up the rounded part of his shoulder there. Goosebumps took control of my body in a wave of disbelief before I looked back up at him and whispered, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends what you think it is.”

“A daisy?”

“Then it’s what you think it is, yeah.”

“But…”

Lowering himself onto me, Danny nudged my legs apart and settled himself there, brushing his hands over my hair and trapping my face between his arms. “But what?”

“You got rid of me so easily.”

“If you think walking away was easy, you’re wrong. It fucking killed me, but I did it because if I hadn’t, I’d have resented myself, and that would have turned to me resenting you, too. Some things have to be done, and some shit is hard to make happen, but I’ve done it. I’ve done it, I love it, but none of that means I stopped loving you while I went out there and got my act together.”

“You still love me?”

“I never fucking stopped,” he breathed. “Not even for a day.”

Tears threatened to form again, but I swallowed them down, desperate to create heat rather than emotion. “Now would be a good time to fuck me, superstar,” I whispered. “Kiss me, and then fuck me the way you promised me you would.”

“Zee…”

“Please, Danny.”

He took a second before he dropped his lips back to mine and poured everything he had into it. Before long, he’d kissed his way down my neck, chest, and stomach until his tongue found the heat waiting there for him, and he circled it slowly over my clit. My legs fell apart instantly, and I closed my eyes as the sensations only Danny could deliver built and built within.

His hands around my thighs made me feel safe.

The expert way his tongue devoured me made me forget we’d ever been apart.

His brand of torture was to build me up and then let the sensations ebb away while he nipped at my thighs and stomach before he’d start the process all over again, pulling away every time I swore to him that I was about to come.

“Not yet,” he breathed again and again. “I won’t have this be over too soon.”

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