Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Daphne
W e bang against the door with no response from the other side. After our much-needed heart-to-heart, a talk I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for since I was eighteen, we grabbed two bottles of wine each and climbed the stairs. When we made it to the top, the door was locked.
“Grandma, this isn’t funny! Open up!” Layton shouts.
“We talked. It’s all good,” I add.
Layton continues to beat the door, but after a few minutes, I get tired of standing, so I climb down the stairs and sit on the couch next to a bunch of barrels.
“I have a feeling we’re going to have to wait her out on this one,” I yell to Layton, and he finally gives up and joins me. To my surprise, he sits beside me on the couch, not in the nearby chair. Things feel strange between us now. There’s genuinely no more animosity between us, and yet we’re still strangers in a way. We haven’t known each other in so long. We’ve changed and grown into the people we are now, and I’ll admit I want to know this version of him.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why Gran’s doing this other than the obvious. I needed to make things right.”
“She is so sneaky. Looking back, I wonder how many of our coincidental encounters are because of her.”
“You know I have, too, and I think she’s behind them all at this point. This one is diabolical, though.”
“Do you think she was the one who called the fire station about my alarm that was clearly not going off? Would she do that?”
He takes less than a minute to think about it.
“Dispatch said it was an older woman who called, which fits. A man was telling her not to call in the background. Darrel at least tried to stop her.”
I burst out laughing. Tears spring to my eyes, and all Layton does is sit there and shake his head. But he’s smiling. Really, truly smiling with all his white teeth showing.
“I wonder how long she’s going to keep us trapped down here,” he finally says as I calm down.
“Now that is more the Layton I know,” I smile, still feeling the butterflies from his smile. From what I’ve seen of this grown-up Layton, he doesn’t do that much. The one exception was the night of the beard competition, where he strutted his stuff on stage.
“What do you mean?” He asks casually.
“Well, this grown-up Layton doesn’t smile often. Suits you.”
He smirks, and I swear it is the sexiest thing on earth.
“Well, except for the night of the beard competition, where you were strutting your stuff on stage,” I tease, and he groans.
“Don’t remind me.”
His response confirms what I thought, that was out of character.
“It’s why you won thought,” I laugh.
“Hey here, I thought it was strictly because of this handsome face, and superior lush facial hair.” He strokes his beard, and my eyes can’t seem to look at anything else.
That has me laughing. This is nice. Easy.
“Well, since we’re stuck down here anyway, why don’t we drink some of this,” I say, reaching over to the top of the barrel next to me for two glasses.
“Sure,” he replies, finding a corkscrew on the barrel next to him.
With a bottle open, he pours it into the two glasses I hold for us, and we sit back to take our first sip.
Mmm. It’s really good, and I can see why his grandfather liked it.
“What do you think?”
“Oh, I’m no connoisseur, but it’s delicious. I like it. What about you?”
He nods his agreement. “It is good.”
I laugh lightly. “It’s wild how our conversation went from intense to something so light.”
His breathy laugh is followed by, “Yeah. I’m still getting over your forgiveness, which I am not sure I deserve.”
“Isn’t that up to me? After all, it’s my heart you broke,” I say softly, letting it sink in.
“I promise you, it wasn’t just your heart I broke, Daphne. It’s hard to forgive myself for hurting the only person I’ve ever loved.”
The silence that follows his admission is suffocating, and my breathing becomes labored. I’ve only had one sip, but I feel dizzy thinking he could have felt the same way I have all these years. Like I was still waiting for him, unable to form any meaningful relationships, because I still only loved him.
Do I still love him?
“We were young,” I try to say, as if to lessen the charged moment his words created.
“Made no difference, or I would have been able to get over it. Get over you, and I haven’t.”
Staring at him in disbelief, my heart pulls tight in my chest. Fear is there, but also the same feelings I felt all those years ago. Without thinking, I blurt out the last thing I should admit. “I haven’t been able to move on either. I compare every man to the boy I knew. The one who sang to me to make me smile. Brought me my favorite soda every day and wrote me notes on the sand. The only one ever to touch me.”
I whisper the last part. My cheeks flush as his eyes burn into me. His jaw is tight, and his hands flex against his jeans and the stem of the wine glass.
I take several more sips from mine, needing to cool off.
“Do you remember the game we used to play with soda?” Layton ask. His deep, gravelly voice seems to trace over my skin. Suddenly, the long dress I’m wearing is sweltering.
Instead of answering, I nod. It’s a game I’ll never forget. We made it up in a silly attempt to have an excuse to kiss, but why is he asking? Is it stupid to hope?
Those eyes of his fall to my lips. I feel a drop of wine and go to swipe it away when he catches my wrist and holds it gently, running his thumb over it. An unspoken question lingers in his eyes. One he’s too afraid to ask.
Do I want him to kiss me? Yes, more than anything. So, I play the game.
“Can you guess what kind I’m drinking?”
Within seconds, Layton’s lips are on mine. His fingers sweep into my hair and pull me closer, and I moan at the sense of relief. How long have I been waiting for his kiss? It pains my heart to remember, but at the same time, it makes this moment so much more intense. My lips grow hungry, and I reach for him, spilling his glass on the ground.
The sound of glass breaking echoes through the room, but neither of us dares break the spell. My glass follows with a crash when it hits the ground at our feet. Somewhere in the far back of my brain, I promise to clean it up, but my body is in charge now as I crawl on top of the man I’ve missed for over a decade.
Oh my gosh, he’s already hard. His big length rubs my center as I straddle his lap. A groan reverberates into my mouth, and I can’t help but echo my own.
Layton’s tongue slides against mine as if I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted, and he can’t get enough. We fight for control of the kiss, each biting, licking, and tasting the other. His warm hands snake up my thighs under my dress and grip my ass hard. The control he uses puts the perfect amount of pressure on his erection against my clit, and we both groan at the sensation. My hips shamelessly grind in rhythm, and suddenly, it’s like we’re teenagers again.
All thoughts blur as our bodies take over. Hungry for the feel of each other. Something familiar and yet as thrilling as our first time.
My greedy hands pull at his shirt until he finally breaks the kiss, letting me rip it from his torso and over his shoulder. Layton’s chest is so much broader and covered in soft hair. I rake my hands through it while he works the buttons that run down the front of my dress and pushes it over my shoulders.
He grabs the bottle of wine and takes a drink, pressing his closed lips against mine. The taste on his lips is a delicacy I eagerly press my mouth to. Sucking in his bottom lip and enticing the most erotic groan I’ve ever heard. Layton’s hips jerk upward, and his hands are back on my ass, pulling me closer. I enjoy that sound so much I suck on his lip again, then bite down just hard enough to make him go crazy.
I love knowing he still goes feral when I use my teeth. Before I can bite his neck, he rears back, then pours the fucking wine over my chest. I gasp in surprise, but the sound quickly turns to pure pleasure as his tongue licks up my cleavage to my collarbone. We’re lost in each other. We’re forgetting everything sensible and letting our needs drive our actions instead of good sense. Lapping at my sensitive skin, he drinks me up, all while pulling me hard against his jean-covered cock. My panties are soaked, and if I could catch my breath long enough to speak, I’d be begging for more.
Layton stands with me in his arms as if he knows the words I can’t say. Kissing me and turning us around. Gently, he lays me down on the leather couch and continues to kiss down my body. His fingers work more of the buttons as he moves lower and lower until he has my dress off, then reaches up for my now wine-soaked bra. It’s gone and quickly forgotten as he takes me into his arms. Kissing and sucking on my breasts as I arch into his hungry mouth for more. My core pulses for attention, but at the same time, I don’t want to miss out on anything this man has to give.
His touch feels like an electrical current through my veins, sending need between my legs. That filthy mouth of his trails across my skin and lands on my nipple. I make a loud, unintelligible sound as he sucks it hard.
My hips move against his jeans for friction as I pull his ass closer by my heels. His teeth scrape against my peak in a quick nip, stealing my breath, and then he moves lower, knowing I need more even though I’m incapable of asking.
Layton pulls my thong down my legs and settles at my center with piercing, hungry eyes.
“I’ve waited too damn long for this,” he mutters right before he leans into me.
A shockwave of pure electrical energy shoots through my body, and I loudly moan my thanks. His wide tongue laps up my slit slowly, over and over, teasing and tasting me like a meal he’s savoring. As if my taste is what he’s been starved for.
My hips gyrate shamelessly in need. The vibration of his groan hits every few seconds, making me see fireworks. I scream, “Oh fuck yes! I feel that through my whole damn body.”
Layton places his big hand over my mouth to quiet me and then plunges his tongue inside me, rubbing my clit with his thumb. He doesn’t stop for a single second, and the pressure feels unreal, out of this world. Like my body is in such an intense state, I’m vibrating from the inside out. Then, like fire to a stick of dynamite, I explode. Colors burst behind my closed eyes, and pleasure sweeps through me in waves. I’m breathless, shaking and melting into the couch, and Layton still doesn’t stop. He only slows his rhythm. He licks me softer, as if he can’t bear to miss a drop of my orgasm. It’s nasty, yet the most erotic and sexy thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I haven’t even come down from the high when I’m fantasizing about more.
“Layton,” I whisper, still catching my breath.
My weak arms reach for him, needing him close. Needing more.
Above me, he hovers, looking down at me in awe.
“You are so damn beautiful, baby. Are you okay?” He asks, and I almost laugh.
“Yes. So good. Layton, I want you. All of you.” It’s a confession about more than sex, and he knows it. No matter how long it’s been, my heart has never forgotten this man, and now that I have him again, I can’t imagine life without him. I know it’s a lot. I realize we’ve grown up and are different in many ways, yet it feels like old times here, alone. Layton makes me feel more myself than I have in a long time. My heart always felt like something was missing, and now I feel everything I’ve missed for so long. An overwhelming emotion chokes me, and tears spring to my eyes.
“Hey. Baby, don’t cry. You’ve got all of me, and I got you. If you’ll have me,” he whispers in the low light of the cellar.
My heart beats wildly as he presses his chest to mine so hard I know he can feel it, but I know it’s all going to be alright.
Because I can feel his beating just as hard.
“Take me, Layton,” I say as I grab the back of his neck, pulling him hard to my lips.
The overwhelming sensation doesn’t stop, but my need for him overtakes the moment. In an uncertain world, I know one thing is true: we belong to each other. No matter how hard it might be to learn who we are now, we’ll only be stronger for it.