Chapter 17
17
Poppy
There’s so much we don’t know about each other—our last names have never been exchanged, what he does for a living, or where we’re heading after this, emotionally and physically, once the snow clears. I just can’t seem to care as I revel in the afterglow of my first orgasm in two-plus years.
Laird bends down to kiss my temple before he pauses. “You’ve been smiling for an hour.”
He’s been grinning the entire time too, but I won’t tease. I don’t have the energy for a fun comeback when all my reserves have been spent. “I’m happy,” I reply instead, tucking my hands under the pillow supporting my head.
Lying on the couch, I watch him settle into the leather chair at the other end. I like being able to see him, to admire his features and his smile and to see when the dark clouds roll in and his mind goes elsewhere. Whether dark and heavy or light and carefree, I haven’t found anything I can’t appreciate about this man.
Kicking his feet up on the couch near mine, he’s slumped in the chair but doesn’t look as comfortable as I feel. I might have to make room for him to snuggle with me. It’s something I can’t stop thinking about. It’s late, and we’re both tired but dragging our feet about separating. The lids of his eyes have gone half-mast, but he’s still smiling. “You say that so easily,” he says.
“And you say that as if you’re jealous.”
“I am.” Chuckling, he adds, “What’s it like to feel profound happiness?”
“Endless. Nothing seems impossible.” I stop to touch on what I am feeling, other than the general joy of being with him, and then get up and go to him. “I feel invincible.”
Adjusting in the chair, he positions himself to have me sit on his lap. I drape my arms loosely around his neck. I don’t want to come on too strongly, but I could devour him, and it wouldn’t be enough.
The happiness he’s just out of touch with shines in his eyes when he’s looking into mine. I can see it. I wish he could. Resting my hand on his T-shirt-covered chest, I whisper, “One day, you’ll feel the same.”
“I . . .” His hand covers mine.
I hate that everything seems to remind him of another woman, someone I’m too afraid to even ask about. His smile returns with a vengeance as he searches my eyes, kicking my heart up a notch. He seems to pivot from his original thought, and the corners of his eyes soften. “I do with you.”
Who knew that was the balm of reassurance I needed? I lean down to kiss his lips, the need fastening our mouth together before pulling back. Although I can’t see it, I drag my nails over the spot I remember the tattoo being located. “Can we loop back to the star and rose?”
His grin is beaming, but he asks, “Do I have a choice?” as if the topic is taboo .
“Of course, you do. But why do you not talk about it? Does it bring back bad memories?” The warmth of his hand covers my bare thigh as my shorts ride high. I love the way every swipe across my skin feels intended and causes goose bumps to rise in the wake.
“It brings up memories I never want to forget, but they’re complicated and not straightforward.”
“I feel like you could say that about any aspect of your life.”
That makes him chuckle, his body rocking against mine, making me wish we were planning a second round. “I’ll admit that I’m not an open book. I keep my life as private as possible these days.”
“Why is that, Laird?” Caressing his jaw, I run my hand over the scruff that’s gotten thicker over the course of the last day. And then my gaze strolls over his handsome face to meet his eyes again.
“I don’t like the chaos of my life. I value my privacy. I spend most of my time alone—”
I kiss him without an argument from him.
His fingers weave into the hair at the back of my head, and he holds me to him, causing a thrill to zip up my spine. I’ve never been surer than at this moment that this kiss is bigger than most I’ll experience in life. Laird and I are more than attraction. We’re a centrifugal force pulling together.
Left breathless and feeling more alive than I have in so long, I rest my forehead against his and close my eyes. “This might be my favorite place ever.”
His hold on my hips tightens, and he tilts his head to put his eyes back on mine. He’s just as breathless as I am, but he still manages to smile. Reaching to caress my cheek and gaze into my eyes, he asks, “Deer Lake? ”
“No, being on your lap.” I give him my best smirk and wink.
Chuckling, he says, “It’s pretty fucking fantastic, but I don’t want to take up all the top spots yet. There are a few places I still intend to take you tonight.”
I release a soft laugh. It feels like the reprieve needed, like a puncture in the building tension. “I’ll pack my bags.”
When he leans back, his body sinking into the leather again, he smiles at me as if we’re a time or place, memories he’ll recall long after this. So much is buried in his dark irises, but it’s there I discover it’s not only me who’s been stuck in stasis.
I was stuck in a hospital bed while physically healing, but most didn’t check on my emotional state.
Laird is the opposite. His head is trapped in the ruins of a past relationship while faking through life like nothing happened.
Willing to risk it all, I say, “I’m starting to believe we were meant to meet.”
He brushes strands of my hair back behind my ear. “I have no doubts.”
If I’ve learned one thing, Laird doesn’t do or say anything just to appease anyone. He speaks his mind, means what he says, and will happily stand on his own if he believes it best for him. So it’s not surprising to see how genuine his smile is. He makes me believe I’m the lucky one.
I hold his hand to my chest. “My heart is beating so hard that my chest feels too small to contain it.”
“Why is your heart beating so fast?”
“Because of you.” I cup his face and lean in to steal a kiss. “I haven’t been loved in so long, but you feel real. I can’t explain it, but you feel familiar, and it’s like we’ve been here before.” I release him and a heavy sigh in parallel. “Please don’t hate me for saying this. I just . . . I’ve never wanted to be with anyone as much as I do you. I don’t care if you shatter me tomorrow. Tonight, I want to feel alive again.”
Running a hand along my neck, he cradles my head to face him. “I want you.” Tilting me, he tracks his hand with his tongue to my jaw, where he bites. Not hard, but enough to send shock waves through my body and straight to my nipples. I gasp, the response uninvited as it exposes me to his will. “I want so desperately to be buried inside you that it hurts to think about.”
I am not okay.
Unable to think.
Not breathing.
I will not survive this night if this is how it’s starting. As if I’ll fall, I cling to his arm to hold me in place. Sliding the bridge of his nose under my chin, he whispers, “How badly do you want to come?”
I’m already on the edge. Leaning over, he toys with my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth and then releasing it to lick the corner of my mouth. My gulp is hard to swallow and loud in my ears. I swear he can hear my desire as every part of my body reacts to him. “So badly.”
I’m scooped into his arms and laid on the couch like a treasure of precious value. “I’ll be right back,” he says, leaving me there staring at the fire.
“What do I do?” Oh God, I didn’t mean to ask that out loud.
“Get undressed for me,” he replies over his heavy footsteps that trail into the bedroom.
I sit there for a second, then jump to my feet and start stripping off the pajamas I had put on. Shorts dropped. Shirt tugged over my head. And yeah, with hope for sex on my mind, I didn’t put on anything else. I quickly spread a blanket over the leather couch and then lie down .
Still hearing his footsteps rushing around the bedroom, I realize lying here waiting for sex is so embarrassing. I grab another blanket from the pile he brought out earlier and cover myself, pulling it up to my chin and holding it there.
His steps through the house feel like a warning, but my body reacts on instinct, readying itself for him. I want to roll my eyes, but my nerves are getting the best of me despite dying to have sex with him.
He chuckles when he sees me. “Comfortable?”
“Very.”
“Looks it.” He drops packets of condoms down on the coffee table like candy. One. Two. Three. Good lord, there are four. I rub my legs together, wondering if I should be worried about my ability to walk tomorrow. Four. He has big plans, and the thought alone has me purring.
Laird sits at the other end of the couch, his hand resting on my leg as if we do this every day. Oh wow. Is every day a possibility? Yes, please. His hair is messier, his eyebrows wilder as if he’s run a hand over his brow a few times. He finally says, “I want to make this good for you—”
“Can’t go wrong.”
Slipping off the couch, he kneels beside me. “I was hoping you’d say that.” The blanket is peeled from my body. His breath stops hard, but then he smiles as he reaches to trace the outline of our twin tattoo.
“It matches yours,” I whisper, unsure what else to say.
“It does.” He leans down and kisses it twice. With his fingers lingering there, he says, “Put your legs over my shoulders.”
“What?”
As if having my boobs vulnerable to the cold air weren’t enough, now he wants to go dow—I spin into place, facing him and the fire roaring a few feet away. There’s no smooth or sexy way to do this, but his eyes are still locked on me like a lion about to get a steak.
He places each of my legs over his shoulders, but our height difference comes into play. He tugs me by the ass until I’m on my back. There are no pleasantries exchanged or how you are doing, no kissing to warm me up, and no foreplay. Laird angles his shoulders and gives my vagina a once-over before diving right in.
I jolt from the sensations shooting straight from my core, already knowing this will be too much to hold on. “Ah, Laird.” He looks up from between my legs and licks his lips.
Take me now.
I.
Am.
Dead.
With his eyes still on mine, he drags his tongue through my lower lips and then asks, “What is it?”
I suck in a breath and exhale. “Nothing. You just . . .” Too turned on to even think, I mutter, “Carry on.”
His smirk is as rogue as it gets, and he dips back down, his tongue traveling through my slit to stake claim to my entrance.
My mouth falls open, and a moan tumbles out. I grab his shoulders, mesmerized by the sight of him and the fire blazing in the background. “So hot.”
Instead of fighting to stay present, I chase the feeling. Being kissed like it’s my mouth is so dirty it’s sexy. He smashes his mouth against me while his fingers take ownership of my clit. A fleeting thought has me wondering if it will ever be mine again. Not when it feels this good to be touched, sucked, blissfully tortured by him .
Wriggling, I push myself against that marvelous mouth of his, needing more. “Yes, harder.”
He plunges his tongue, thrusting in and out without reprieve, an onslaught of warm breath and rough kisses. Every pulse, every beat of my heart on high alert, every part of me is a live wire ready to send me over the edge.
Closing my eyes, I follow the darkness, seeking the light. Pushing my head into the cushion, I begin to lose touch. “Laird,” I cry in sheer pleasure, then tumble to my fate. “Yes. God, yes.”
My body is cold, and my legs are spun to the side. A packet ripping breaks through my psyche. Laird settles on top of me, spreading my legs with his knee.
As the last of the tremors roll through me, I open my eyes. “Oh my God.”
He smiles, no arrogance in sight. “Do you feel good?”
“So good.” I butterfly my legs and cup his face. “But I need more.” I kiss him, tasting myself on his mouth and lifting my hips to meet the tip of his erection. “I want you.”
So fast.
So hard.
I fall back, closing my eyes to absorb the shock. My thoughts are wild as he starts thrusting in and out, the blanket causing us to slide across the couch. He drops his head beside mine and groans to a stop. “Fuck.”
Opening my eyes, I find his already on me. He grins the naughtiest I’ve ever seen him. Through jagged breaths, I smile back. “What is it?”
“You. You’re fucking beautiful like that.”
Heat floods my face, but I pretend the compliment doesn’t make me feel incredible. “Like what?”
“With me inside you.”
I burst into flames, my whole body burning under his gaze. Scraping my nails lightly down his back, I whisper, “You feel too good to stop.”
“I can’t get traction on this fucking couch. We’re slipping all over the fucking place.”
“Bed?”
“Definitely.” He’s up and grabbing me bundled in the blanket. He walks down the hall and sets me on the bed. The curtains are open, allowing just a hint of the night in. I climb under the covers, and he moves in right after.
It feels different in here. Less hurried. Softer, like the sheets. More romantic. Away from the fire, the air is too cold to stay exposed for long. We reposition, making sure the covers remain over us.
This time, he enters me while staring into my eyes and follows with a gentle kiss. Our lips part as I wrap my arms around him. Slower, our bodies move together and then against, finding purchase in each other instead of the mattress.
When our bodies warm, the blankets roll off his back. Every muscle in his arms, his back, and his chest is hard. It’s so sexy to watch him push into me over and over again. Kisses on my mouth lead to kisses on my neck. He moves so smoothly that he never loses contact. “So good, baby. So goddamn tight.”
His words are treats that I feed off, his body so strong that I leverage mine against him. But the admiration in his eyes, the appreciation falling off his tongue sends me spiraling.
Reaching the peak of my pleasure, I arch my back, my nipple clipped by his lips, and his fingers tease me until I tumble into the abyss. “Ah, so . . . yes.”
I hold him to keep from falling forever, but then he jerks, his breath punctuated in my ear. “Poppy, fuck. Yes.” My name and his pleasure mingle together as he falls with me.
Pushing another moan on the last of my trembling arches, I fall flat on the bed again as I reach for reality. “Laird,” I whisper, my body sweaty against his. “Laird,” I exhale.
The weight of the world presses down on me, and I savor every second until it becomes too much. I kiss the side of his head where the ends are wet from his own sweat, but not to tell him to move. Right now. Right here. I’d sacrifice myself for the gratification of holding him as he returns to me. I tighten my arms, proving it, and whisper, “This will always be one of my favorite memories.”