Connected (Connections, #1)(37)



With concern clearly etched in his voice and words spoken that I never expected, he says, “Hey Dahlia, look at me.”

As I turn my head to look at him, his expression is one of compassion and maybe a little unease. Swallowing, he holds his steady gaze. “That’s not pathetic at all. It’s a beautiful thing, being with the same person, caring about someone enough to want to get through all the shi . . . crap life throws your way with them.”

He’s talking to me about Ben, and it’s a little overwhelming at first. Strangely, I find comfort in being able to openly discuss my true reason for not waiting for him after his gig the night we met. I also find his concern and honesty extremely touching. Oddly enough, the mention of Ben’s name right now does not send me spiraling back into my memories. My mind is moving forward toward River, and my body starts to quiver with need again at that thought.

“Yeah, he was there for me through all the shit life threw my way.”

I pause; taking a moment to collect myself and think just for tonight I’m pushing Ben aside and letting River in.

“Ben might be the only man I have ever slept with, but he’s not the only man I’ve ever wanted to have sex with.”

He starts to say something, but I don’t let him. Instead I put my finger to my lips and make a shhh sound. I stand up to take that one big step keeping us apart. Once I do, I walk over to him and straddle myself on his lap. Watching him, I can’t tell if the look on his face is shock or surprise, but when he sighs, his arms instantly loop around my waist and I don’t really care anymore what his facial expression was. Enjoying our closeness, I lean in and whisper into his ear, “That’s why I left the bar five years ago, because I wanted what I shouldn’t. I didn’t care about anything else. I wasn’t thinking about consequences, so I had to leave.”

When I lean back a little to look at him, he gasps. His breath is shallow and quick as I wrap my arms around his neck and look into his eyes. That’s when I know it’s time to jump in. Running my hands through his messy hair, I press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I wanted you then, like I want you now.”

Grabbing my face, he tries to pull me to his lips, but I resist. I need a minute longer to finish saying what needs to be said. “I think you were right about timing and fate.” I stop for a second to lightly kiss his soft lips before I finish. “And I know you were right that I can do this, but River, what you don’t know is that I want to do this more than anything.”

I feel him shutter beneath me as a groan echoes from the back of this throat. I’m finished with words, so I move to kiss his neck inhaling his fresh scent and enjoying the smoothness of his stubble-free skin. Then I roll my tongue down his throat, making my way to the top of his chest. His head drops back, but as soon as I nip his skin, he sits up a little straighter and grabs my hips, clutching them and pulling me into him. My leather skirt rides up to just below my ass and I know he has figured this out when the palms of his hands glide down my backside and I hear another groan, louder this time as he hisses out an erotic breath.

When I trail kisses back up his neck, I can feel his lips in my hair and I can hear him pull air through his nose as if capturing the clean, citrus scent of my hair. My lips head toward his mouth and when I reach his jawline, I again feel the amazing smoothness of his skin. I stop to gaze at his perfect face and when he looks back at me with desire in his eyes, I know he wants me as much as I want him.

When I press a little harder into him, I smile because I can feel his arousal. This only ignites my body further and pushes the limits of my own desire; the desire that has been in hibernation for so long and is fondly welcoming aestivation.

Before I make it back up to his mouth, he dips his head and slams his lips over mine, flicking his tongue against mine. With both of us panting heavily, he stands up, taking me with him. He wraps his arms around my thighs, urging my legs around his waist. I grab the hair behind his head and hold on.

Walking through the living room door, he pauses dragging his tongue up my neck before gliding his nose to my ear and whispering, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” I say right back, without a shred of hesitation. And it’s true. I want him. I need him. This is never truer than right now as he’s touching me, running his hands over each of my ribs, over the almost non-existent curves of my chest, and up and down my body, searing my skin in his every wake. Just as I know that I haven’t been touched in almost two years, I also know I’ve never been touched like this before. As he continues to touch me, the searing turns into burning, and I know only he can cool it.

Instead of continuing toward the bedroom he takes a step toward one of the unopened glass doors. With my legs still framed around his waist, I’m surprised when I feel the slight chill of the glass against my back, and I gasp a little. My dress has ridden up to near waist level and my panties are completely exposed. Loving the feel of his hard body now pressed against mine, I deepen the kiss. My lips feverishly slide along his. My tongue moves in and out of his mouth with the same urgency as his.

We stay like that for I don’t know how long. He’s pressing his body to mine, sliding his hands up and down my length. Both of us kissing, tasting each other, caressing our tongues together. My hands are still in his hair, tugging harder as our kisses become before frantic. I’m moaning when he pulls back and sets me down.

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