Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(73)

Danny stretches across my bed, propping my pillows up behind him as I grab my laptop and log on. He grabs the paperback next to my bed and reads the back. “Is this a sexy book, Skylar?” His teasing tone has my cheeks coloring as I watch him flip to the first page.

I quickly grab it from him and set it on my shelf, tucked safely between others. “They’re romances.”

“What’s that one about? The guy on the cover had nothing but dog tags on, so color me intrigued.” He looks genuinely curious as he bends an arm behind his head to use as a headrest.

I say, “You wouldn’t like it.”

“Says who? Maybe I want to read it.”

“Be serious, Danny.”

He grabs one of the smaller throw pillows and tosses it at me. “I am! Choose a book from your shelf and I’ll read it. I want to know what you like, Blondie. Let me into that head of yours.”

All I can do is stare for a few seconds. “I don’t think you’re being real right now.”

He snorts. “I am. What book? Pick one.”

I blink slowly. “Um, okay.” I turn and stare at my small collection of romances and choose one of my favorites. “Here. But I’m telling you, it’s a romance. You probably won’t like it.”

“Am I not allowed to like a good romance because I’m a dude?” he questions, making me realize how unreasonable I’m being.

I shake my head. “You’re right. Read away.” Waving my hand at the book clenched in his hands, I shift my focus back to the computer on my desk and start the movie.

He doesn’t give me a chance to wonder where to sit when he scoots over and pats the section of mattress beside him. Safely tucking the book on the other side of his body, he lifts an arm to welcome me next to him.

Only slightly hesitant, I kick off my shoes like he did and crawl up to the bed after hitting PLAY. As soon as I lay down, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me into his side.

He lets out a content sigh.

No words.

Just a sigh.

We watch the movie in silence, cuddled up beside one another as the lives of the four women play out on the screen. Unlike the first movie, he doesn’t ask questions. He takes it in, thoroughly invested in what’s going to happen to each of them.

I told him last time these movies were based on a book series, which he said he would consider looking into.

What’s hotter than a guy who reads?

Nothing.

And the way he watches whatever movie I want—no matter what kind—gives him major brownie points. There’s never any complaint over the cheesy plot or dialogue. He doesn’t even look at his phone during them.

And now he wants to read my favorites romances? Sometimes I wonder if this man is even real or if he’s some twisted figment of my imagination that my loneliness has conjured up.

Well over halfway in, I can feel Danny’s breath on my forehead and his eyes scanning my face. “I can tell you’re thinking something. What’s on your mind?”

Through my lashes, I glance up at him.

Our lips are so close I can practically taste his. “You’re missing the movie,” is my answer.

“Mm. I can watch it anytime.” His voice is quiet, barely a notch above a whisper. “I want to know what you’re thinking right now.”

Right now?

God, I’m not sure it’d be smart to tell him exactly what I’m thinking. Especially since he made me drink an entire bottle of water once we got back to make sure I was sobered up and thinking straight. I couldn’t blame alcohol for the thoughts of his body pressed against mine or the way his lips could potentially graze my own if we shifted just right.

“Sky.”

I swallow, my throat bobbing as my heartbeat echoes in my eardrums. “I was thinking that I want to kiss you,” I admit.

His breath hitches and I feel it against my face. “Yeah?”

My head nods once. “But if you want to watch the movie…”

“Shut up, Skylar.” That’s all he says before his head dips down and captures my lips. It’s tender, unrushed, and sweet. I silently demand my heart calm down in my chest before it propels right out of its cage, but it doesn’t listen.

It pounds heavily, thumping until I worry he can feel it as I press my body closer to his. One of his hands reaches over and cups the side of my face as he parts my lips with his and teases my tongue.

It’s slow.

Painfully slow.

Cautious.

Beautiful.

His hand is warm on my cheek as his thumb brushes my jaw and coaxes me to open deeper, angle my head, and kiss back.

And I do.

God, do I ever.

I inch closer, resting one of my palms flat against his own racing heartbeat. The groan tearing up his throat as I taste his tongue and move my hand from his chest to his shoulder has me squeezing my legs together.

I shift until the seam of my jeans is rubbing against where I need them to, pressing my lips harder against Danny’s until he moves his hand to the nape of my neck and squeezes, tracing his tongue along the back of my teeth, then my lips, and nipping at my bottom one.

“Fuck, Sky,” he rasps after pulling back, resting his forehead against mine. Our breaths tangle in the small space between us as he nuzzles our noses.

I can’t help but squirm until his leg is pressed between mine, applying the perfect amount of pressure against the needy bundle of nerves begging for attention. A strangled moan escapes my lips as he captures them again, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, then the top, and moving his leg to give me friction.