Beautiful Broken Promises(50)
I was beginning to think that I had been the only one feeling the pull between the two of us—that maybe it was just all in my head. Every day it seemed to get a little bit stronger for me. A smile here. A brief touch there. But Lane never made any advances nor did he say anything, so I constantly questioned what I was feeling.
Could it just be that I hadn’t had any attention for the past four years and now even the smallest amount felt like the greatest thing in the world? Could I be imagining the sensations that shot straight between my thighs when he winked at me from across the living room? Or the thrill I felt when I saw that smile he gave me every time we woke up early in the morning.
That was another thing. He was now sleeping in the bed with us every night. Kate wouldn’t have it any other way, and I couldn’t blame him for falling for those pleading blue eyes. But he also still crawled in behind me late at night, claiming I was having bad dreams. Some nights they were excruciating and I craved his comfort, but there were other nights when I woke and didn’t remember having any nightmares. Regardless, before the sun came up the next morning, he would always move back to his side and it wreaked havoc on my heart to see him sprawled out on his back, so close yet so far. The morning sun would dance across his blonde hair and scream for me to run my fingers through it and beg for him to come back to my side of the bed.
We never spoke of our late-night cuddle sessions. It was as if they were a secret, even to us—something we only indulged in when the nighttime could conceal our desires. I thought it was all in my imagination until last night.
Lane and I had been in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner and the kids were playing in Kate’s old nursery. They certainly had no qualms about that room or playing with toys that were meant for children much younger than they were. It was all new and that’s what they cared about.
After I’d put the last plate on the wooden drying rack, I reached for the dishtowel and wiped my hands dry. Lane was washing down the countertops, so I leaned up against the sink to watch his muscles move underneath his cotton shirt. It was a hobby I had picked up lately. He’d gotten his stitches taken out a few days ago and had already started trying to work out again.
Now he tortured me daily with extremely slow pull-ups from a bar that extended across the hallway from one wall to the next. He also made me suffer every time I had to watch him do a zillion sit-ups on the living room floor. And when he did his push-ups and was forced to only use one arm when his shoulder hurt, I wanted to lick all of the sweat off of his heated skin. He never looked at me during his workouts, but I knew he felt my eyes on him, which only heated my skin more.
He probably thought I was the biggest creeper ever, but I just couldn’t make myself look anywhere else. I couldn’t apologize either; my body had been on fire for two weeks now. Soon the flames would either kill me or I would have to find a way to quench them.
With my hip pressed into the countertop, I watched Lane toss his towel into the laundry room. He turned and looked down at me, and I observed something flicker intensely in his hazel eyes. Before I could blink, he leaned in and slammed his lips against mine.
The approach had been quick and shocking, but the kiss was slow and smooth. He didn’t try and force his tongue in or to open my mouth any further, but he did coax me to move against his lips and follow his rhythm. The fire inside of me was a full-on inferno at that point. Just as I started to reach out for his head, he pulled back, breathing harshly against my lips.
“Tell me I didn’t just f*ck up,” he pleaded. “Tell me you wanted me to do that as much as I needed to.”
Why were we talking? The flames inside of me were increasing in intensity and burning me from the inside out. I was a full-on forest fire. I grabbed his neck and pulled him toward me forcefully. I had never been the dominant one in my relationships. But when a girl has been starving for affection as long as I have, it looks like she’ll do things she never thought herself capable of.
Lane groaned into my mouth when our lips touched again. I gave him back the control but let my hands stay in the hair on the back of his head. The height difference between us was vast, but he leaned forward enough for me to hold on tight. His tongue dashed into my mouth without invitation and I tangled it with mine. His hands latched onto my hips and I pressed further into his body.
God, I craved the feeling of his bare skin against mine.
We stayed in the kitchen for who knows how long, just exploring each other’s mouths, and I prayed he would take me right there. His hard body against mine and nothing in between.