Chapter 27 – Dylan #2
“What’s wrong, Dylan?” he asks. “You don’t like having ultimatums thrown at you? Aren’t you the one who told me you’d take off your cover-up if I took off my shirt? Well, guess what? I took off my shirt. Now, I’ve upped the ante.”
I stare at him through the dim light and hate that we are both letting our fear get in the way but have no idea how to get past it. Neither of us do.
“Don’t turn this on me, Grady.”
“It’s a complicated fucking mess, isn’t it?” he says as he finally turns his head to face me.
“It is.” My voice is barely a whisper because in the split second of time, we’re face to face, our lips inches apart.
My breath hitches as the air around us shifts and changes, charges with the instantaneous chemistry between us. His eyes flicker to my lips and then back to my eyes as he leans forward.
And then he kisses me.
It’s a tender brush of lips, but it’s one of those kisses I can feel so deep in my bones that my body wants to sigh with satisfaction. And when it ends, he leans his forehead against mine and we sit like that, neither of us moving away nor denying the connection we share.
“What are we doing here, Grady?” It isn’t exactly the best time to ask the question, and yet, I can’t help but ask it.
Because when his lips are on mine, it feels like whatever this is, is real.
Then, when they’re not and he’s acting like we’re roomies, it’s confusing as hell. I’ve had enough confusion.
“We’re sitting in the dark on the porch,” he says.
Another brush of his lips to mine. A lift of his hand to cup my neck and deepen the kiss, his tongue licking against mine and then gently retreating. Our foreheads resting against each other’s, his hand still on my neck.
“I mean what is this? What are we doing here?”
“We’re kissing.” He chuckles and then kisses me again.
“Funny,” I murmur as my body sags against his in contentment. “But . . .”
“We’re enjoying each other.”
A brush of his lips against mine, and then he pulls my bottom lip gently with his teeth, kissing me fully again. His free hand drops the hammer—which lands with a soft thud—and then slowly slides up my thigh.
“But . . .”
“I’m getting lost in you, Dylan. It’s so damn easy.
When I’m with you, I forget the bad. I forget the fire.
I forget the bad dreams. The three nights you were in my bed were the first nights in forever I didn’t have nightmares.
So, I’m kissing you because when I’m with you, my mind stops, and the world starts turning again. ”
His name is a sigh on my lips, and my heart stops and then starts again at words more seductive than have ever been spoken to me before.
“But what about when I have to leave—”
“We’re enjoying each other. We’re getting lost in each other. And that’s enough for right now. That’s what both of us need. You’re getting over someone, and I’ll never be in a position to commit . . . and that’s okay.”
The desperation in his kiss and the conviction in his words drown out the questions and concerns I know I should be thinking to guard my heart.
It’s my turn to lean forward and initiate. And while my lips kiss his to tell him his words are enough, my hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. I need to feel his skin. I need to give him the same unspoken reassurances he’s given me in the only way I know how to.
“I thought you didn’t like firefighters.” He laughs, his lips moving against mine, and his hand coming up to cup my breast and ignite the frenzy of nerves in my hardened nipple.
My mouth spreads into a smile I know he can feel. “I’m making an exception this one time.”
“One time?” He leans forward and steals another kiss. “Baby, I plan on making it a hell of a lot more than one time.”
“Promise?” I chuckle.
“You say I need to get used to firefighting again, you know what the first step in training is?”
“What’s that?” My breath hitches as he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending a lightning rod of sensation straight down to the apex of my thighs.
“Knowing how to use my hose.”
My laugh turns into a moan as his hand slides down my torso and dips beneath the waistband of my shorts. “Mm, I don’t think you can put this fire out, Malone.”
“You bet your ass I’m going to try.”
With that, our lips crash against each other’s as his hands go to both of my hips and shift me so I sit astride his lap. I can feel him hard and ready against his board shorts, and as I deepen the kiss, I slide my hands ever so gently over his flank and onto the ridged skin of his lower back.
I swallow his gasp, refusing to let him pull away. Not allowing him to think about his back or his scars or be self-conscious. If he’s getting lost in me, I want all of him to be able to. His doubts. His insecurities. His everything.
And so I let my lips and my hands do the talking as they continue to slide over his scarred skin until they hook under his arms and pull him against me. Just like any normal couple would.
Without thinking about our pasts.
Without thinking about our future.
And I ride him under the glow of moonlight, on the steps of the back porch, and we get lost in each other once again.