Life In Reverse(97)
“Okay.” I push aside clothes and wipe the wetness gathering in the corner of my eye.
Vance returns carrying the painting from his house that I admired all those years ago. Setting it against the couch, he smiles. “This is for you.”
“What? No. I couldn’t—”
“Yes, you can. I want you to have it.” He takes my hand in both of his and gazes down at me. The unshed emotion in his expression makes my heart want to climb out of my chest. “You and my mom, you would’ve really liked each other. I can picture the two of you talking about art for hours at a time. I think it would make her happy for you to have this.” He stares at his thumb trailing back and forth over my knuckles. “She may not have known who you were that day. But she took to you.” His eyes find mine. “It’s kind of hard not to.” He pulls his hand away to bring it to my cheek. “You have this way of breaking down walls, Ember. You f*cking took a sledgehammer to mine.” Vance shakes his head on a quiet laugh. “All those days of not living caught up to me when I met you. But you… you opened my eyes and forced me to look. You made me want to live. You saved me, Ember.”
A loud breath shuffles between us as he exhales. “I’m through letting fear and worry consume me. I’m done with it. I want my story to be different. I mean, I still have to get those tests done periodically and that won’t change. But… if everything goes to hell, I want you by my side… until you can’t be anymore. And I know that’s selfish. But I want you, Ember.” His voice softens, eyes fixated on mine. “There’s nothing in my life I want more than I want you.”
“Show me,” I whisper.
Vance hauls me to my feet, gripping my cheeks as his lips crash against mine. Dizzy with bottled-up emotion, we’re like two meteors colliding. My hands on his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders. His tongue in my mouth, licking across my jaw, sliding down my neck. My fingers wander higher, slipping into his long hair and tugging gently. He groans, spurring me to do it again before some other force takes over me—driven by his clean shaven smell, the taste of him, by how much I’ve missed him. I spin us around and push him down on the couch, straddling his legs and feeling the hardness between them. His tongue plunges deep into my mouth as if he’s trying to crawl inside of me. And God, do I want him inside of me—I want him everywhere. I rub against him to show him how much and he growls, the sound vibrating between us as our kiss grows more urgent. My hands drift under his t-shirt. The solid planes of muscle move beneath my fingers and I’m itching to touch him, to put my lips all over his skin.
“Vance.” I break the kiss, panting, and yank on the edge of his shirt. “Take this off.”
“Anything for you, Mickey.” His lips curve into the sexiest grin and my heart gallops in my chest. I can hardly fathom it—the want I feel for him—the love I have for him. I touch a finger to my swollen lips as he grasps the seam of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. My eyes drop, drinking in the ripples and dips of his chest, the light trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. But then I stop. My gaze flashing wide on a small tattoo of Mickey Mouse under his ribs, my name in script wrapped around him as if in orbit. My mouth opens on a gasp. I reach out with a shaky hand to gently trace the outline of the curled letters.
“What… when… did you get that?”
“The day after I left you.” He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch soft. “I wanted a reminder of the girl I loved… and what I gave up—”
“No one has ever done anything like this for me before.” I don’t wait for a response before I grab onto the material of my top, sliding it up and over my shoulders. I’m not wearing a bra and Vance’s eyes fall to my chest, my nipples drawing tight under his gaze. He reaches out, gliding the backs of his fingers over the hard tip and I shiver.
“Fucking stunning,” he murmurs, leaning up and dragging his tongue across the firm peak, making me tremble. His wet lips cling first to one nipple, then the other, until I’m writhing against him.
“Vance… bedroom,” I moan, arching my breast into his mouth, my head lolling back. “I want….” My words trail off as his warm breath gusts over my skin.
“What do you want, Ember?”
I let my brain float down to earth and peer at his face, alight with anticipation. “I want you to do dirty things to me.”
He tucks his lip between his teeth then lets it go. “How dirty?” He grins.
“Filthy.” He tries to lift me up then, but the position we’re in is awkward and we end up tipping over onto the carpet, laughing. I grab for the button on his jeans, wanting to rip it from the hole.
“Hey,” he reaches between us to latch onto my wrist, “I want to take it slow. We have a lot of time to make up for.”
But then I surprise myself, and I think him. “We can go slow later. Right now I can’t wait.” I swing my leg out from underneath his and roll over, pushing myself to a standing position. “I don’t know my way around this place, so you’ll have to show me where your bedroom is. And make it fast.”
Thrusting himself up from the floor, he catches me off guard by scooping me under my knees and into his arms. His breath hovers an inch from my mouth. “I want to do everything imaginable to you tonight. Are you ready for that?” Fevered eyes dart to my lips, staring at them until I’m about to combust.