Move the Sun (Signal Bend #1)(64)
She pushed open the wooden screen door, and it sang on its spring. He turned at the sound and watched her walked toward him, the glow of the dusk-to-dawn light giving the yard an ethereal glow. The air was still and muggy. The night creatures had quieted, the dawn creatures had not yet stirred, and the silence had weight. As she neared, he stubbed his smoke out on the ground and held his arms out to her. She sat on his lap, her arm across his shoulders.
Wearing only his jeans, he held her snugly, one hand on her hip, the other high on her thigh. “Did you dream, baby?” He rested his head on her chest, and she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Yeah. You okay?”
“I’m sorry.” Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “You ever gonna tell me what they are? Afghanistan stuff?”
She sighed. She didn’t want to talk about them. She’d never spoken of them. She could say what she always said when he asked, that she didn’t remember, but it was a lie. He’d stop asking if she’d just tell him.
“I guess. I mean, they started after I came back to the States, so I guess. But it’s not like I’m reliving memories from that time. They’re death dreams. I dream I’m being killed. Violently. I feel it happening.
Sometimes it’s pretty gory.”
He’d lifted his head to look up at her as soon as she started to answer. “Christ, Lilli.”
Fearing he was about to engage in some amateur psychoanalysis, before he could say more, she asked, “What’s got you sitting out here in the big dark?”
He smiled, and Lilli saw the weight he carried in the low curve of his lips. “I’ll tell you. Soon, I tell you everything. But not yet. For now, I’ll say I just got a lot of people counting on me, and I don’t know how not to let them down. The whole town is looking to me, and I am outmatched. I’m not who they want me to be.”
“Who do they want you to be?”
He blew through his lips. “A f*ckin’ savior.”
“I don’t know, love. I think maybe you saved me.” She cupped her hand around his jaw, her fingers tracing his scar. She’d yet to ask how he got it.
His whole body reacted to what she said, his arms clutching her more tightly, his eyes intent on hers.
“You have to stay. I’m not gonna lose you. You have to stay.”
This was the wrong moment to start thinking about what could happen when Hobson and his brother got back, what a club vote might mean for them. “Isaac, we’re not talking about that stuff now.
“Fuck.” He dropped his head again to her chest. “Just f*ck.”
Feeling a need to reshape this moment and reclaim the sliver of peace they were supposed to be enjoying, Lilli put her hand over his where it rested on her thigh and pushed it between her legs. He groaned, and she felt the vibration of it against her breast. When she moved his fingers into her wetness and over her clit, he groaned more loudly and took over.
She kept her hand on his, enjoying the way it moved against her palm as his fingers stroked and probed. Just as she was beginning to feel the warm current in her joints that signaled her climb toward release, he stopped and pulled his hand away, setting it on her hip. She whimpered and reached to bring it back, but he shifted her then, seating her square on his lap, facing away. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt where it rested on her thigh and lifted, encouraging her to raise her arms so he could pull it off. Once she was nude, she turned and put her hands on his belt, but he caught them in his and brought them to his lips.
“Just you, baby. I just want to touch you. Lay back on me.”
She did as he asked, and then arched hard, with a keening gasp, as he returned his hand between her legs and took her breast in the other. The feel of him took her under, dulled her consciousness as it sharpened her senses—his strong chest against her back, his rough hands cupping her most sensitive flesh, his lips firm and soft against her neck, her jaw, her ear.
As he worked her, his fingers making need unspool in her blood, he murmured in her ear. “Baby, your * feels like satin, it’s so smooth and soft. Ah, yeah, I love it when you squeeze me tight like that.” He pulled his drenched fingers up to swirl on and around her clit, making her hips dance on his lap. She could feel his erection bulging in his jeans, pressed against her ass and thigh. He rested his head on her shoulder with a groan. She wanted him inside her. All of him. She reached behind her and grabbed his belt buckle again, but his hand left her breast and clamped on her wrist, bringing her out from between them.
He spread his hand wide over her belly, pushing her flat against him. “Just let me feel you, baby. That’s what I want,” he murmured into her ear.
“Isaac, please. I want you to f*ck me. I want your cock.”
He chuckled, and the sex in the sound made her clench and moan. “I will. When I’m done here, I’ll take you inside and give you my cock. Oh, yes, I will. I will f*ck you well and truly. But now I want you to lie back and let me touch you.” He petted her, long sweeping strokes from her throat to her knee, as his other hand continued to probe and flex inside her. “Just relax and feel it, baby.”
She did. She released a long breath and relaxed into the curve of his body, letting him touch her. His hands were everywhere—her breasts, her throat, her arms, tracing the line of her collarbone, her legs, her belly. His fingers plunged deep into her core and her ass, pinched and rubbed circles on her clit. His mouth latched onto her neck and sucked and sucked.