35. Chapter 35
Chapter 35
LANE
Ilean against the archway to the living room of the lake house where Teagan lounges on the brand-new couch that was delivered just this afternoon, courtesy of my parents as a housewarming gift. His broad shoulders and long arms spread over the back of the couch, the remnants of the take-out pizza I ordered on the second-hand coffee table I scored at a flea market last month.
With his gaze fixed on the television, he laughs at an old rerun of The Office while I ponder how normal this feels, having him here. After practice, he stopped by for dinner and a movie, then spent the majority of the last hour painting Sophie’s nails a bright pink and playing dinosaurs.
Talking, dinner, and Sophie’s bedtime, all of those ordinary things are made extraordinary just by his presence.
I clear my throat and he glances my way. “Hey,” he says, a smile curving his lips.
I nod toward the hallway. “She was hoping you’d tuck her in, say good night.”
“Absolutely.” He rises, drawing closer and towering above me as he grabs my hand and walks with me down the hallway toward her bedroom.
Pausing just outside, I let him go in while I wait beside her doorway, head against the wall as I listen to him tell her good night. “Sweet dreams, Sweet Sophie,” he murmurs, and my heart swells.
A rustling sound followed by footsteps signals his approach, and when he steps out into the hallway and shuts her door behind him, I soak him in.
He’s all tousled blond curls, tan skin, seaside eyes, and dimpled smiles.
God, he’s beautiful.
And my little girl is every bit as smitten as I am.
The thought should scare me, but somehow it doesn’t. Not anymore. Not like it did.
“The kid had quite the day,” he says, leaning back against the wall across from me, tucking his hands into the pockets of his gray sweats. “I think she’ll be out in minutes.”
I hum in response as I glance down at the monitor, then turn it toward him, so he can see. “I think maybe she already is.”
He chuckles, a soft rumble I can feel vibrating in my chest even though we’re feet apart.
“Thank you again for today,” I whisper, not wanting to wake Soph. “You have no idea how much your help meant to me.”
He offers me a lazy shrug. “No big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me,” I say.
Tell him you love him.
The voice inside my head startles me, and I swallow, my throat dry.
I’d known my feelings had been on a downward spiral for quite some time now, but to have them intrude so suddenly shakes me.
Heart pumping wildly in my chest, I debate my options, but my tongue is leaden, too heavy to speak as Teagan curls a finger, beckoning me forward. “Come here.”
I suck in a breath, then close the gap between us without hesitation, coming to stand directly in front of him.
His hands lift, trailing his fingertips up my arm, over the delicate skin of my collarbone to either side of my neck before sinking into my hair at the base of my skull.
I whimper, a shiver racking through me at his touch.
Nerves coil in my stomach, a viper waiting to strike as his gaze flickers to my mouth.
I rise on my toes, knowing what comes next and not wanting to wait another minute to have his mouth on mine.
His hands tighten in my hair as he dips his head, and our lips meet. Fingers gently press into my scalp as his tongue brushes the seam of my lips, begging for entrance, and I open for him at the same time, he spins me around and pins me against the wall all while his mouth claims me.
He takes his time, angling my head and deepening the kiss while my heart beats wildly.
His tongue glides against mine, tasting and coaxing me into submission before he lowers his mouth, lips skimming over my jaw.
I bite down to stifle the moan threatening to erupt from my chest while my hands slide beneath his shirt. Hot skin meets my palms, and his abdominals clench under my touch before he grinds his hips to mine.
“Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true,” I confess.
He grunts, his lips and tongue hot on my skin as he continues his perusal, scraping his teeth over my collarbone, my neck, before he lifts his head to meet my hooded gaze. “I’m very much real, Lane, and I’m here, right where I want to be. With you.” He leans his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. “And if I’m too good to be true, then so are you. You have no idea how fucking special you are.”
I exhale a breath as his lips lower, brushing over mine slowly before releasing me again. He makes it so hard not to believe him that he almost has me convinced. Somehow, I’m worthy of this man.
Everything about the time in-between the day when we met in the park and now has been perfect.
“Teagan . . .”
I love you. I almost say it, the words on the tip of my tongue, but I stop them. For reasons I can’t explain, I hold them back.
I suck in a breath when he tugs my earlobe with his teeth before whispering, “You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?”
I nod, breathless as I shiver under his touch. “Yes.”
“I want you to feel safe with me, Lane.” He presses his body into mine, his hips grinding, the hard length of him against my hip sending a ball liquid fire from my stomach south.
“I do,” I say, realizing I mean it.
I feel safe with Teagan in a way I never thought I would with a man.
Closing my eyes, I meet his lips once more, drowning in the sensation of his mouth, his touch.
His hands slide beneath my shirt and when he unclasps my bra, I moan.
He grunts in approval as one hand comes around me to palm my breast, and I exhale a shaky breath, so turned on I can’t think through the pounding of my blood in my ears.
“Tell me what you want from me, Lane, and it’s yours,” he whispers over my lips.
“I want you,” I choke out. “All I want is you.”
He shifts his hand to my other breast and rolls his hips into mine with a groan. “You already have me.”
His mouth moves to my neck, and when his hands retreat from beneath my shirt, I mourn the loss until he’s lifting me up, scooping my hips to straddle him as he walks us back into the living room toward the couch.
A hiss of pain wheezes through his lips at the same time he stumbles. “Shit. Fuck.”
He loses his footing, somehow managing not to drop me while hopping on one leg. “Fucking Spinosaurus,” he growls.
I glance down at the floor to see one of Sophie’s dinosaurs, and laughter erupts from my chest as Teagan struggles to regain his footing.
“You think that’s funny, do you?” he asks, a glint of humor in his eyes.
I clutch my stomach with my hands, trying to contain my laughter. “Kind of.”
“I could drop you, you know.” He arches a brow, and I run a hand through his hair, lacing my fingers through his curls.
“You wouldn’t,” I murmur.
He lowers his head and sucks my lips into his mouth, and I gasp. “No. You’re right. I wouldn’t. I’ll never let you down.”
My heart cartwheels when his lips meet mine.
He just barely sidesteps a spike-backed stegosaurus before lowering me to the couch. My legs wrap around his waist while the delicious weight of him presses into me, and my tongue finds the hollow of his throat.
A raspy moan splits the silence encouraging me to move my hands between us where I grab the hem of his shirt and tug.
Sitting back on his haunches, Teagan helps me, ripping his T-shirt off in a single motion and tossing it to the floor before I fumble with the waistband of his pants, too shaky to make quick work of them.
His hand clamps over mine, a tremulous breath escaping him as he meets my eyes. “Are you sure?”
I nod fervently, then reach up to nip on his lower lip, tugging with my teeth, watching as he closes his eyes and groans. “Positive.”
He blinks, searching my eyes for the truth. “But are you really, really—”
I press a finger to his lips, silencing him. “I’m sure.”
He only hesitates a moment before he growls. “Thank fuck.”
He lets go of my hand, and I shove his pants off his hips before he sinks on top of me, the delicious weight of him pressing me into the cushions.
His hands spear into my hair and he claims my mouth, kissing me until I’m dizzy. Kissing me until the world spins and everything leading up until this moment seems inconsequential, like a distant memory because this is where we were always meant to be, here, in each other’s arms. I’m sure of it. Sure of him.
My heart pounds so hard against my ribs, I fear they might crack as I move beneath him, wanting him closer, wanting him inside of me.
I moan when I can’t get close enough, and Teagan’s mouth retreats.
“What’s wrong? Do you want me to slow down?” he asks, lifting his head, breathless. “I don’t want to rush with you, Lane, but my body and my brain are on two separate tracks.”
“No.” I shake my head, pulling him back to me.
“Because we can take our time. We can—"
“A lot less talking, and a lot more doing,” I say, my patience waning.
I want Teagan more than anything I’ve wanted in my entire life.
One hand drops, cupping my breast, and I whimper, arching into him.
I feel his grin against my mouth. “Damn, baby, you’re sexy.”
He called me baby. And sexy.
I shiver, goose bumps covering my skin at the gravelly sound of his voice. Every inch of my body heats as he unbuttons my blouse and pushes my bra off my shoulders, then lowers his mouth.
I gasp, writhing beneath him.
My entire body pulses, a pressure building within me as his hands move south. He lifts his hips, sliding down my jeans, my panties, until I can feel every glorious inch of him pressed hard against me.
“Shit. I’m not prep—”
“My purse,” I mumble. “Kitchen table.”
He pushes up on his arms, holding his weight off me as he stares into my eyes, and I know what he’s thinking. I can read it on his face. He’s surprised I planned for this, considering I refused letting him into my heart for so long.
Inevitable, I want to tell him.
You and I, we were always inevitable.
He presses another soft kiss to my mouth and stands while my eyes rake him in, and I blush.
He is . . .
He disappears into the kitchen, then returns, purse in hand.
. . . fucking incredible.
I take my purse and pull out the little foil packet, then hand it to him.
But instead of rushing to take it, Teagan cages me between his arms. He stares down at me between his muscled biceps, dropping a slow, gentle kiss to my lips before retreating once more. “You’re magnificent.”
My throat bobs.
He brushes the hair from my face, cupping my jaw in one of his large, calloused hands. “So fucking magnificent,” he whispers again. “Every single thing about you. Your heart.” He drops a kiss to the center of my chest. “Your mind.” He brushes his lips over my forehead, and I shiver. “Your body.” His eyes darken, and he takes my breast into his mouth while I arch against him. “Your kindness,” he murmurs, against my skin.
“The way you are with Sophie,” he whispers into the shell of my ear. “Your loyalty. Your strength.” He leans up again and shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “You’re so fucking strong, Lane.”
Reaching out, he traces my lower lip with his thumb. “I wish you could see what I see,” he whispers. “Because if you even saw half the woman I do, you’d never doubt your worth a day in your life.”
My eyes fill with tears, until he blurs above me, a living watercolor. A masterpiece.
I open my mouth to speak, but all that escapes is a whimper.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, trying again, saying the only three words I can say at this moment because if I don’t, they might burst from my chest.
“I love you,” I murmur, pulling him flush against me. “I love you, Teagan Nichols.”
His eyes widen, his breath catching as he stares down at me as if afraid I might take it back. He blinks, and then his eyes soften. “I love you more.”
He drops his mouth to mine, and I push his boxer briefs off while the crinkling of foil fills my ears.
Anticipation balloons in my chest as the weight of his body lessens for a moment, never breaking contact with his mouth as we kiss, before he lowers himself once more and I arch against him.
His hands find my body, exploring, touching me everywhere before he chases each caress of his calloused hand with his mouth.
My breath fills my ears.
My heart soars.
Hips buck. The pressure inside me yearns for release as he hovers above me, close but not close enough.
Sliding his hands up my arms, he pins them above my head while his hips roll, and I gasp. “You’re mine, Lane Turner.”
I nod, unable to speak through the sensations rippling through me and the glorious pressure of his hips.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say you’re mine.”
His mouth finds my neck, his breath hot and his tongue even hotter as he tastes me inch by inch, scraping his teeth over my skin as he reaches my breasts.
“I’m . . .” I trail off, shaking my head. I can’t think let alone speak.
I don’t even know what the fuck I’m saying as his free hand slides between us and my eyes flutter closed. Sensation consumes me as his fingers find their target.
“Say it,” he says again, tone husky.
My thighs clench. “I’m . . . I’m yours,” I choke out.
Every single part of me belongs to this man and him to me.
He lifts his head, approval in his hooded eyes. “Good girl,” he growls as he rocks against me, hand still firmly in place, still torturing and teasing.
I cry out and he presses his palm to my mouth, stifling the sound.
And just when I think I can’t take anymore, he pushes into me and takes me over the edge.