Chapter 29
LAWSON
After a long day and a long-ass run to try to process everything flying around in my head, I slide the key into my apartment door and let it loose.
It’s dark inside. The lamp I always leave on in the corner by the sofa is off.
I pull my phone from my pocket and tap the flashlight feature.
The small bright light floods the living room.
Everything seems to be in its place. I sweep a hand over the wall. It’s then I notice something on the floor, fluttering in the draft from the open door. I hunt for the light switch again, only to find it taped over.
“What the hell?” I utter. I shine the beam at the taped-up switch. Next to the switch, a pink sticky note is attached to the wall.
Leave me off is scribbled over the note.
I move the light to the floor and scan the closest sticky note.
The smile that stretches my face would look ridiculous if anyone could see it. Luckily for me, the goofy smile that rose with Carlie’s nickname for me is safe from being seen in the dark. I turn back and kick the door closed.
Following the arrows, I track over four more sticky notes before I find one on the wall by my bedroom.
I look down to find an oversized silver candle with three wicks sitting on the small side table by the door. My side table by the sofa. She must have moved it. Tossing my backpack onto said sofa, I light the candle as instructed. Sulfur infuses the air as all three wicks burn to life.
Replacing the matches, I find another sticky note.
I step inside the darkened bedroom, and when I flip over the small square pink note, it reads . . .
With a chuckle, I hunt around the doorframe for a button. Finding a round button just below eye level, I press my palm into it.
Fairy lights flicker to life, illuminating my bedroom.
And . . . the stunning blonde draped over my bed.
How the?
“Hi,” she breathes. Her lips curve into a smile as she lies on my bed, propped up on the pillows on the side of the bed I never use. Like she knows where she belongs.
Her hair is pulled around one side of her neck, cascading down her shoulder. In only black lingerie, she is the most addictive illusion. I can’t take my eyes off her.
Instantly, blood sinks, sending my cock to aching hard in seconds. Harried breaths whip from my chest.
“Hey, Princess. What’s all this?” I rasp.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I broke and entered your apartment?”
“Nah, you can take anything you want.”
“I plan to,” she says softly.
Now she leans forward, her finger beckoning me closer. As I close the distance between where I stand and the foot of the bed, she crawls toward me.
Fucking crawls.
Her long legs are bare. Her brown eyes hold me where I stand as she reaches the end of the bed and rises onto her knees. My hands ache to hold her, but I let them hang by my sides as she explores my face with the pads of her fingers. A fine worship, inch by inch.
“I love the way you feel. The angles that make up your jaw, your cheekbones. All of it,” she whispers. Her hands move over my chest, and she straightens, amusement flooding her face. “Nice shirt.”
Ah, fuck.
“Is this so you remember where you come from?” She giggles.
I glance down at the Montana shirt Ma sent me. Her not-so-subtle way of reminding me to come home whenever I can. “Something like that.”
But I don’t belong in Montana—here is where I’m needed. Here is where I want to build a life.
I swallow past the stone growing in my airway.
She scared me the other day in the copier room. The way she freaked out over being close . . . the way it smashed my heart up watching her falling apart.
It’s not that I can’t handle her emotions or her attitude. That’s not it at all. Seeing her hurting was one of the hardest moments I’ve lived through. It may as well have been my lungs suffocating.
Leaving her sitting on the floor was the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long while. But if I’ve learned anything from managing the anxiety that plagues my family, space and time help. As does a safe place to fall. And I want to be that for Carlie more than anything.
Only, she has to let me in first.
Really let me in.
“Carlie,” I rasp.
Her fingers fall from my face.
“Lawson?” My name is torn between a plea and a whisper.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you want.” I can barely get the words out, terrified she’ll tell me something I don’t want to hear.
“What do you mean?” Her thumb sweeps over my lips, my jaw, as the pads of her fingers track through my hair.
“This thing between us, serious or not serious?”
Studying my face for a beat, she sucks in a breath. “Serious.”
Thank fuck.
I groan as she slides her palm over my chest, letting it hover over my heart.
“I can’t promise I know how to do this right. But you would be the first man to ever make me want to try.” Her head tilts to one side as her face breaks.
Sweet Jesus, baby.
I cup her face and smash my mouth to hers.
She claws at my shirt, and I raise my arms for her to remove it. Breaking apart briefly, it flies across the room, landing somewhere by the bathroom door.
“God, Laws, you’re addicting.”
I chuckle. “You oughta talk, baby, in those fucking panties.”
Her hands make quick work of my boxers and running shorts. I really do need a shower. After almost ten miles of pounding the pavement for a little solace, I’m all dried sweat and stink.
“I need to shower first.”
“No,” she whines.
“Yes, trust me. You’ll appreciate the clean Lawson much more than the smelly one.”
“Maybe,” she says, but sits back on her heels. “You have five minutes, Cowboy.”
I fly into the bathroom like a man on a mission and am out in under four minutes. Fastest shower in history. Every minute I’m away from her is too long.
I don’t bother with a towel when I hop out, opting for speed over dryness. I’m dripping wet when I make it back to the bed.
Carlie climbs me like a damn squirrel up a tree, and I hold her on my hips, devouring her neck.
“Oh my god, you’re still wet,” she says with a giggle.
I shake my head like a dog, sending droplets over her, the bed, and the floor. A squeal flies from her mouth as she holds up two hands in front of her face, laughing. Her head tips back.
The sound of her happiness lights a fuse in my veins.
My chest warms to the sound of it.
My body vibrates with need for this little woman.
“God, where have you been all my damn life, baby,” I growl, dropping my lips to the soft spot below her ear. Her laughter peters out, turning to a moan as she settles on my hips, her hands running into my hair.
“Waiting here, for you. It took you long enough.”
I huff a breathy laugh, but she takes my face in her hands.
“You make me feel things I never thought I would have the privilege to feel. Things I . . .” She glances at the ceiling as a strangled sound leaves her lips.
“I didn’t believe this kind of pull between two people existed before. Before you.”
“You didn’t believe in what?”
“I don’t . . . I didn’t believe in love. It’s so manufactured, it hardly feels real, let alone attainable.”
“That’s damn sad, baby.” I run my hand over her cheek and cup her jaw. “Lucky I came along then, hey.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
I toss her on the bed, and she giggles. I crawl over her, planting my hands on either side of her head, caging her in with my knees. Errant drops of water fall onto her gorgeous skin.
“You need me to show you what it looks like?”
“What what looks like, Laws?”
“Love, baby.”
She studies my face, hesitating. “Just a peek.”
I kiss her, hard. Hungry.
She breaks, letting me in.
I claim every part she lets me, and when she’s left breathless—as am I—I track my kisses down her neck, over her collarbones.
“This underwear is stunning, you’re stunning, but it’s coming off,” I rasp.
She arches her back, and I release the clasp. A heartbeat later, the bra hits the wall somewhere and drops to the floor. I brush my lips over one hard peak and then the other. My girl arches off the bed with a little whimper and a mewl when I clamp down around the delicious peak.
I have her writhing underneath me as I splay one hand over her ribs, holding my weight with the other.
Her skin is so soft, the taste of her is intoxicating.
I kiss and suckle my way over her belly.
Hands dig into my hair as I descend lower and lower down her body, inch by fucking agonizing inch.
My rock-hard cock presses into the mattress, only reminding me I’m nowhere near where I want to be.
But this is me showing her love.
Taking my damn time.
Because my gut tells me this moment is an important one, and over hell’s frozen balls am I screwing this up for her. For us.
“Laws, please,” she gasps.
I nip and kiss low on her belly, readjusting my knees to be inside her thighs. “Patience.”
She moans, and I swear she utters something that sounds like, “I don’t have any when it comes to your hands on me.”
Shuffling backward, I widen her thighs with my hands and track my finger up one creamy thigh, then the other, careful not to touch the sensitive places she is desperate for me to find.
I get a protest in the shape of a huff when I take my sweet fucking time, tracking my thumb around her pretty little clit without touching it.
“Lawson goddamn Rawlins, I swear.”
I huff a laugh, but who am I kidding, I’m as strung out as she is. I sweep my tongue through her center with one long, languid stroke, and her back flies off the bed, hands turning to fists in my hair.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpers.
“Slow down, my girl. We’re taking our time.”
With a moan, she plants a kiss into my hair and lies back down. I send my tongue through her soaked pussy again, and fuck if my balls don’t tighten with her taste. I could survive the rest of my life just eating this gorgeous woman out. I’d never go hungry again.
With a suckle of her clit, I have her writhing on the bed, hands sliding down the covers, hunting for my hair again. Where they fucking belong. I swirl my tongue around her sensitive nub before pushing two fingers inside.
She gasps, hips bucking. “Fu-uck . . . Laws.”
I curl my fingers, biting down on her clit.
I’m rewarded with wave after wave as she tightens around my fingers, her body quaking with every single one. The pretty little whimpers tumbling from her parted lips are the best fucking sound I’ve ever heard. She rides my face and hand until her orgasm ebbs.
I look up, my mouth still on her sweet pussy when she rises off the bed, looking down at me. Fine fingers curl around my jaw, tugging me up toward her as she breathes, “More.”