Oakley
Twenty-Six
His typically bright green eyes are darkened to a deep forest green and peer up at me from beneath dark lashes with all the mischief and confidence of a man who knows what he wants and knows he can deliver.
Fingers tease up the sides of my legs and tug at the waistband of my sweatpants.
I lift, letting him drag them down with a painful slowness that has my core flooding with need.
My breathing comes in anticipatory pants at the look of pure male satisfaction as he teases me with feather-light touches along the bare skin of my legs.
He knows what he’s doing is driving me mad with desire and heat. I squirm beneath his touch, trying and failing to get his hands to move where I want them. Where I need them.
His fingers dance along my skin before grazing up the inside of my thighs, his touch igniting a fire in my belly as I grow more and more ravenous for him. A smirk graces his perfect lips as he flicks his gaze up to mine again, as if making sure he has my full, undivided attention.
He does.
He parts my legs with his hands, and my thighs fall open in a silent plea to keep going.
He stares down at my center, taking in the sight before him with a look of wonder in his eyes, like he’s at the top of a mountain and looking out at the mountain ranges in the distance.
It’s a look of reverence that sends a pulse straight to my clit.
Slowly, he drags his hand over the soft skin between my legs, and I let out a moan of relief at his touch. He repeats the motion, expertly stroking his fingers over my clit in a way that makes my thighs tremble in anticipation.
Those eyes are on me again, and I can’t seem to pull myself away from them.
He holds his hand up between us, his fingers glistening with my arousal, before he sucks them into his mouth.
His tongue swirls around them, cleaning me off of him, and his eyes flutter shut as a masculine groan escapes him at the taste of me. I moan at the seductive sight.
With another flick of his eyes, he pulls his fingers out of his mouth and gives me a wolfish smile before lowering his head between my legs and—
A knock at my bedroom door startles me out of the dream with a sharp inhale, and I instinctively clutch the covers to my body while trying to not only slow my breathing, but ignore the fact that, yup, I definitely moaned.
Out loud.
Fuck me.
“Uh, Oakley? Sorry to wake you, but I made coffee.”
Levi’s gravelly morning voice sounds through the closed door, doing nothing to distract me from the dream. Instead, it drags me further under its spell.
When I don’t answer, he tries again. “I have a cup here for you. Can I come in?”
“No! I-I mean, I’ll grab it in a minute.”
“It’s no bother. I have it here for you.”
The doorknob jiggles a little, and I clutch the blankets a little tighter to my chest.
“That’s okay! I just need… a minute.” I am spectacularly trying and failing to hide my ragged breathing, and I know he can hear the shake in my voice.
An awkward few seconds pass before his gruff voice sounds again.
“Oh, um, yeah. No problem.” He clears his throat and his voice deepens slightly with his next words. “Take all the time you need in there.”
Mortification burns through me as I listen to his retreating footsteps.
It’s official. There is no way I can go downstairs and face him after I’m pretty sure he heard me moan in my sleep.
Hey, God? Can you do me a solid real quick? Just take me out of my misery.
I lay in my puddle of shame for a minute longer before conceding that, no, I should not, in fact, throw myself out the window from the embarrassment. Everyone has sex dreams! It’s natural. Healthy, even. He’s a man; I’m sure he has them more than I do.
And suddenly, I’m no longer thinking about my sex dream, but imagining the things he does in his.
Great. Just perfect.
I throw the blankets off of me in frustration, growing more irritated by the second when I realize the sheets are tangled in my legs.
After a momentary struggle, I manage to free myself and clamber out of bed.
Cracking the bedroom door, I poke my head out, and once determining the coast is clear, sprint across the hallway and into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me.
He wasn’t kidding. The room is even more atrocious in the daylight. I might be taking him up on his offer to paint.
I use the bathroom, kicking my soaked panties into the corner in shame before realizing I didn’t grab another pair before I came in here. Commando it is. I finish up quickly, not wanting to give Levi any more reason to think, than he already does, that I’m up here, rubbing one out.
I give my teeth a quick brush and splash some water on my face before straightening my shirt, grabbing my underwear, and yanking open the door. I toss the panties through the open bedroom door as I pass and make my way down the hall.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee greets me as I descend the stairs, and I follow the smell like a bloodhound on the hunt into the kitchen, where Levi is sitting at the counter, a newspaper in one hand and a mug in the other, poised halfway to his lips.
His eyes dart to mine when I approach, taking in my sleep-rumpled clothes and tangled hair, and he smirks at me over the rim of his coffee mug.
The look he’s giving me drags me straight back to the dream of his head between my legs, and I quickly avert my gaze, busying myself in the fridge to hide the flush in my cheeks.
“I don’t think you’re gonna find your cup of hot coffee in the fridge, darlin’.”
I roll my eyes at my idiocy when he calls me out.
Hastily grabbing a water bottle, I turn to take the seat across from him at the counter, where he pushes a coffee mug towards me in a silent peace offering.
I take it gratefully, setting aside the untouched water bottle, willing myself to chill the fuck out.
The hot liquid slides down my throat, and the flavor explodes across my tongue.
Rich and dark with a hint of maple, this coffee sits in stark contrast to my normal cup of joe—something I can only describe as swill compared to this stuff.
Levi must sense my appreciation because he raises an amused brow in my direction as I take another sip.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never tasted anything like it. Is this the same coffee you brought me the other morning? It tastes like maple.”
He nods as he takes another sip of his own and sets the newspaper down on the counter in front of him. “It’s made in the next town over. The maple is straight from their trees that they harvest every year.”
“It’s delicious.”
“There’s more in the pot when you’re ready for another cup.” He gestures behind him to the simple yet efficient coffee maker sitting on the far end of the counter.
I give a grateful nod, then notice my phone sitting idly on the counter, the screen dark. I must have left it down here last night when I walked in. It’s probably dead by now.
I reach for it, but before my fingers can close around the sleek black case, Levi’s large hand comes down over top of it, trapping my fingers against it. My eyes dart up to his face, and what peers out at me from those dark green depths has my brow furrowing in confusion.
Something I can only describe as reserved caution stares back at me, and I wait for him to explain. The gesture is puzzling, but I’ve learned in my short time with this man that he doesn’t seem to do anything without reason.
“There’s something we need to discuss,” he starts, and unease winds its way through my belly at the words.
I sit silently, my coffee forgotten, as I wait for him to continue, his hand still trapping mine against the counter. Moments in which he seems to be gauging me for any reaction pass in tense silence, until I feel like I’m going to burst from the nervous anticipation.
When he doesn’t continue, irritation coats my insides, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Out with it, Levi.”
It’s a challenge and an invitation, and he lets out a long breath as if steeling himself for what he’s about to say. When his next words finally meet me in the air between us, I realize why.
“I saw your phone last night. I promise I wasn’t snooping.
It was sitting here on the counter, and it started vibrating with texts from an unknown number.
I didn’t mean to look. Actually, that’s a lie.
I purposely looked, and for that I’m sorry.
I know I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that, but with everything that happened last night, I think my head was in worst-case-scenario mode, and I…
I had to know that you’re okay,” he rushes out and, despite his admission, I see the action for what it truly is: concern for me and my safety.
I don’t need him to tell me what the texts say to know who they’re from.
Dread sidles up to my already uneasy stomach, twining with the feeling like two long-lost lovers.
He takes a moment during which he seems to try and collect his thoughts, glancing down at the counter where he still holds his hand over mine.
“Am I? Okay, I mean,” I ask tentatively, needing to know the gist of what the messages say, but not being brave enough to look at them yet.
“I think your ex is in town.”
As the words leave his mouth, the culmination of all my fears and doubts crash through me. If I weren’t already sitting down, I’d be reaching for the stool to steady myself at the words I prayed I’d never hear.
Levi drags his gaze over my face, no doubt taking note of the rapid pulse in my neck.
It lingers on my mouth the longest before flitting up to meet my returned stare.
I immediately drop my eyes because, despite the seriousness of this moment and the words he just uttered, the look in his eyes only serves to remind me of my dream.
That is definitely not a place I can allow myself to go to right now.
“Oakley, did you hear me?”