Page 32

32

LANE

T he most heavenly scent fills my nose.

That’s the first thing that makes me realize I’m awake. As my brain tunes into consciousness, I sense that the house is perfectly, utterly still. There’s no noise, no movement, not even the faint rumble of a car passing by outside. It must be the middle of the night.

I thought it was going to take forever to get to sleep tonight, with Scarlett in my bed. Hell, I doubted I was even going to be able to. I envisioned a sleepless night as my body tortured me with unfulfillable desire, keeping me in a constant state of restlessness until day broke.

But miraculously, I went out like a light soon after Scarlett slid into my bed and pulled the covers over her body. Being in bed with her just felt so damn right that I quickly dozed off into an untroubled, blissful sleep.

The sleep might have come quick and been restful, but it hasn’t lasted the whole night.

With a flash of awareness, I realize how close to Scarlett I am.

No, not just close. She’s tucked against my chest, my arm looped over her waist, my legs curled to spoon her.

Fuck, that’s what that smell is. I’m breathing in the scent of her hair, my nose pressed against the soft tuft of it.

It took a little while, but now my body’s fully aware of the position it’s in, and a sudden rush of life throttles through me.

I sense the warmth of Scarlett’s body radiating against mine. More than warmth—heat that scorches against my chest and my stomach even through the fabric of our shirts.

Sheer, raw need slices through me, a painful desire to feel her bare skin against mine. I have to suck the inside of my cheeks between my teeth and bite down to tame the feeling.

Then I realized where my hand is.

With my arm curled over her, the back of my right hand grazes lightly against the swell of her breast. I feel its shape, its weight, its gloriously perfect softness. I want so fucking bad to turn my hand around so that I’m palming it, finally once again feeling its firm heft in my hand. I want to squeeze it, fondle it, brush the pad of my thumb over Scarlett’s taut nipple and feel the shudder through her body.

My throat constricts as I become aware of how painfully hard I am. My cock is a throbbing rod between my legs. Hot, sharp pangs of arousal beat a staccato rhythm at its base, reverberating through my achingly tight balls and groin.

I’m so fucking hard, and every damn inch of Scarlett that I’m touching feels so soft that the urge to plunge inside her is maddening.

She tilts her hips, and my teeth clench. The motion presses and slants her ass against my hardness. Fire crackles through my bloodstream. Sparks prick all over my skin.

I slowly pull in a breath to control myself.

I should move away from her. Roll out of this bed and sleep on the floor, like I offered. But peeling myself away from her body is so far beyond my capabilities right now, I might as well be talking about sculpting the wind.

Then she does it again. Her hips roll. This time firmer, harder, her backside pressing flush against my pelvis and grinding. Sparks blast up and down my spine, and it feels like a bolt of lightning strikes right at the base of my cock.

“Scarlett,” I can’t help but moan her name, a plea and a lamentation all at once.

“Lane.” My name comes back, carried on her voice, and it steals the breath from my chest.

Is she asleep? Is she dreaming?

Her hand curls around my wrist, the one that’s resting against her boob. Disappointment hardens in my chest when she pushes it away, but it melts as heat bursts behind my sternum when she keeps pushing, directing my hand between her legs.

“Fuck,” I groan, voice thick with gravel. She must be eighty percent asleep, totally unsure of what she’s doing. “Scarlett, stop.”

“Lane,” her voice is a needy squeak, “I want it. Need it.”

I can feel her thighs squirming as she goes to push my hand down her shorts, but I hold it steady at the waistband.

Every single fiber of self-control is strained to the breaking point. But I don’t know what kind of state of mind she’s in.

“Wait.” My command sounds like the creaking of rusty gears from how tight and clogged my throat is.

Scarlett turns her head. Her eyes are open. They’re sleepy, but alert. Vivid. She’s awake, and she knows what she’s doing. Desire flickers in her chestnut gaze, silently begging me not to stop.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

She nods.

I don’t want things to become weird between us. And if she’s just interested in us being roommates with benefits or whatever, I don’t trust myself one fucking bit not to get attached.

This is a bad idea, but if she’s sure, and if this is what she wants right now, then I want to feel her so fucking badly that I’m willing to risk just about anything to do it.

I’m sleepy, the judgment center of my brain is offline, and I’m so horny I could die. After that pleading look in Scarlett’s eyes that told me she’s absolutely sure what she’s asking for, there’s nothing for me to do but slide my hand into her shorts.

Fuck . She’s so wet. I didn’t think it was possible for my cock to get any harder, but when I drag my middle finger up her drenched slit, the impossible becomes reality.

A shudder rattles through her body. She parts her legs for me. I slide my finger through her wetness, coating my digit with her arousal.

She lets out a soft moan. The sound snakes through my ear and sets my insides on fire.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked for me,” I rasp. There’s enough silver moonlight filtering into my room that I can see the dusky blush on her cheek.

Her eyes are closed, lids and lashes fluttery. Her soft, pink lips are just slightly parted. It’s a sight so damn stunning it could give me a heart attack.

She swivels her hips, pressing her center into my hand. “Lane,” she lisps my name again, a clear plea.

“Yeah, Scarlett?” There’s a tease in my voice. I know what she wants. She wants my finger inside her. But I want her to ask for it.

“Put it inside,” she moans.

“Hmm.” I let out a thoughtful hum, like I’m considering it, while gliding my finger over the surface of her warmth. I’m getting off on how I can feel the need pulling tight in her body, how I know she aches with want down there. Aches for me .

“Please,” she whimpers, hips tilting.

My chest hitches as I slide my middle finger into her.

“Holy fuck .” I can’t hold back the utterance. The sensation of her velvety warmth clenching around me is too damn incredible. How the hell is it possible for something to feel so good just on my finger?

The truth is, I’ve wanted nothing but her for the last eighteen months. Every sensation of this moment is heightened by all that accumulated longing and pining. It’s a good thing this is all we’re doing, because if I slid my cock into her, I don’t know if I’d survive.

I work my finger in and out of her, slowly at first, picking up speed as her breathing becomes more ragged and her body starts to undulate against me. I pull her close, reveling in the shaky, twisty movements, getting high on the knowledge that I’m causing the pleasure ripping through her body.

Her throaty moans fill the still, quiet room when I start to rub her clit with my thumb while spearing her with my finger. My eyes stay fastened on her face, drinking in the bliss etched on her features.

She nudges to the side a little, to get into position to slide her right hand into my sweatpants.

My heart bounds against my chest when she curls her grip gently around my pulsing dick. My balls get impossibly tight, a heavy knot of pleasure notching at the base of my spine, and she hasn’t even pumped her fist yet.

Pleasure explodes through me when she gently slides her grip up my hard length. When she ghosts the pad of her thumb over the swollen tip of my cock, my vision goes blurry.

She picks up the pace. My control frays. I fuck her harder and faster with my finger while her hand clenches tighter around my hardness. My own pulse roaring in my ear almost drowns out her moans, and I feel myself hurrying toward orgasm.

Scarlett’s muscles pull taut, and I know she’s coming. I’m a split second behind her. When Scarlett gives me one last pump, rolling her grip over my head when she reaches the peak of my shaft, I erupt.

My jaw clenches, my muscles ripple, and my white-hot release coats the inside of my pants. Jet after jet of cum blasts from my cock as the world falls apart around me.

Scarlett turns toward me in the bed, pressing her face into the crook of my neck as she’s wracked by tremors of her own climax.

When I come down, I’m too spent to talk. Too spent to think.

All I can do is kick off my sticky pants and shove them out of the bed with my feet. I pull Scarlett close, press my nose back against her hair, and hook my arm around her waist.

This time, I say fuck it, and instead of just resting the back of my hand against her breast, I reach up under her shirt and palm it in my hand.

We might regret this in the morning. But right now, it’s better than any dream.