Page 35 of Someone to Have (Skylark #3)

ERIC

The scent of sweet vanilla fills Taylor’s apartment as I let myself back in and place the plate on the counter then cover it with foil.

I’ve never particularly cared about scents. Sure, I appreciate a woman who smells good. But Taylor’s scent—mostly the essence of her skin underneath her lotion or body wash—ties me in knots.

I’m in way over my head, and knowing I’ll be leaving soon keeps me from losing it completely. The inevitable end date means I’m still in control. I haven’t let my full-of-contradictions neighbor breach the defenses I erected around my heart a long time ago.

I can’t. Or at least, I won’t.

Love means being weak. It means putting aside the things you want for somebody else. However, part of me gets why my mom did it so often with so many men. It feels good to put somebody else first when you—I’m not going to use the word love—when they’re all you can think about.

Walking in here tonight and seeing my girl on her knees was a shot through the heart.

I’ve never let somebody into that hollow place inside me, and I refuse to start.

But shouldn’t she be out of the shower by now?

What if she had another panic attack? What if she’s on the floor of the bathroom? What if she went down and hit her head?

Damn, I sound like somebody’s worry-wart grandma. But recognizing I’m being irrational doesn’t stop me from striding forward. I knock on the bathroom door, which she’s left slightly ajar, and poke my head in.

“Everything okay?”

She opens the curtain a couple of inched and smiles. “I was hoping you’d get the hint,” she says almost shyly, then crooks a finger in my direction.

I’ve never seen anything sexier in my entire damn life than a soaking wet Tinkerbell, her face flushed either from the steam or her embarrassment at letting her inner seductress loose. She’s like all my secret fantasies come to life, and I don’t have to be told twice to join her. Except…

“One second.” I turn and jog back to the main room.

Rhett knows where I am, and he was deep in a Call of Duty battle with his buddy when I last checked on him, but I’m not taking any chances.

I lock her front door, then make a beeline back to the bathroom like I’m one of those lifeguards running down the beach in Baywatch , ready to save somebody. Only she’s saving me.

I know it, even if she doesn’t.

I strip out of my shirt, then shuck off my sweats and boxers. Her shower isn’t the biggest, and it’s not made for two—especially when one of them is built like me—but we’ll make it work. I’ll make it work.

“First I need to thank you,” she says softly as I reach for the curtain. Her voice is steadier now, completely different from how I found her earlier. “For staying with me through...that. I’m still not ready to talk about what happened, but I’m glad it was you who found me.”

“Me too,” I tell her from the bottom of my heart. “You okay now? ”

“I'm okay.” She nods, and I can see she means it. The color's back in her cheeks, and her breathing is normal. “More than okay, actually.”

“You look way more than okay to me,” I say as I step in, hissing out a breath as the hot water hits me. “Jesus, that’s scalding.”

“I like my showers like I like my men—strong and hot,” she says, then ruins the sexy vamp bit with a self-deprecating giggle.

I press her against the cool tile wall, my hands sliding over her wet skin as steam rises around us.

She gasps when my lips find her neck, and then I go about the business of worshipping every inch of her with my mouth and hands, drowning in the sweet vanilla scent of her skin and the soft sounds she makes when I touch her just right.

Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails leaving half-moon impressions, physical proof that she wants me the same way I do her.

It’s the most natural thing in the world—quickly becoming my favorite thing—to drop to my knees, nudge her legs wide, and press my mouth to her.

I flick her clit with my tongue, need and satisfaction swirling through me when a breathy moan escapes her lips.

I glance up as I push a finger, then two inside her, feeling her muscles clamp around me. Her eyes are closed, head lolling against the tile. Water sluices from the tips of her hardened nipples and I watch as a shudder rolls through her.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” I coax as her hips move in time with my fingers. “Just like that.”

I could stay like this forever. And when she comes apart with my name on her lips, I know with absolute certainty that whatever this started as, it’s something more now.

I straighten, turning off the water with one hand and wrapping the other arm around her waist. “I have extra towels under?—”

“Fuck towels,” I say as I back out of the shower, tugging her along with me. “I’m not done with you, Tinkerbell. Not by a long shot.”

Her gaze drops to my erection. “A very long shot,” she says then clasps a hand to her mouth as she tries to stifle a laugh.

“Are you laughing at my dick?” I pull her forward, both of us still dripping.

She grabs a towel from a hook on the wall and presses it to her wet skin like I’m not just going to rip it away as soon as we get to her bedroom. Fine. Whatever she needs to feel comfortable.

“I’m laughing near your dick,” she clarifies with a wide grin.

Her smile is almost as satisfying as the look of ecstasy I put on her face minutes earlier. Me. This guy. Nobody else. “You’re going to pay for that,” I tease.

“Promises, promises.”

I scoop her into my arms at the door to her room. We land on the bed laughing, and I can’t seem to stop smiling, which is not normal for me on a regular day, let alone in the middle of sex. But nothing about how Taylor makes me feel is like anything I’ve known before.

“Does it make me an asshole,” I ask as I reach out to trail one finger from the tip of her chin down her neck, “if I say I’m grateful to that panic attack? Because you in the shower is exactly my idea of a perfect night.”

I see her breath hitch as I circle one taut nipple with that finger and then move it to her other one as if I’ve got nothing but time. The truth is, I want to slow things down a bit so I don’t embarrass myself.

“You’re not a dick,” she answers and reaches out to touch the tip of mine with her soft finger.

As if I could get any harder? Only, I do when she takes the length of me in her hand.

I bite out a laugh. “Give me a second, sweetheart.”

“As many as you need. As many as you want,” she promises .

And God, I hope she means that.

Because I want a lot from her.

“Any chance you’ve got a condom?”

“No, but we don’t need one if you’re okay with…” She bites down on her lower lip. “I’m on the pill.”

“I’m more than okay.” I pull her on top of me, then groan as she lowers herself onto my cock, one slow inch at a time.

I wrap my hands around her hips, grounding myself, because this feels like too much and not enough all at the same time.

She’s warm and tight and perfect. I have to fight for every ounce of control as she sinks down fully, her breath catching, her nails digging into my chest like she needs the support just as much.

“Jesus, you feel…” I can’t even finish the thought.

She rocks her hips experimentally, and my head falls back against the pillow with another groan. “Sweetheart, you keep that up, and I’m not going to last.”

She leans forward, her lips brushing mine. “Then don’t. Just feel it.”

I do.

Every slow grind, every flex of her thighs, every kiss she presses to my jaw. This is more than sex. And it’s dangerous. Because my body is writing a check I don’t think my heart will be able to cash. Either way, it’s a moment I won’t be able to forget.

And God help me, I don’t want to.

Her movements increase, and my hips buck off the bed as I feel the orgasm crash over her. She cries out, and I drive deeper, then shout her name as I pitch over the edge right along with her.

Taylor falls forward and I wrap my arms around her, holding tight until we’re both breathing normally again.

“That was nice,” she says, already sounding drowsy.

I cup her cheeks in my hands and kiss her mouth. “The understatement of the fucking century.”

“My dad always said to underpromise and overdeliver,” she answers with a grin that quickly turns into a yawn. “How am I so tired? It’s not even late.”

“Do you have panic attacks often?” I can imagine how much something like that would drain her energy.

“Not anymore.” She shakes her head, her long hair tickling my chest. “They happened regularly after my mom died. But I saw a therapist, learned some coping techniques, and slowly they went away. I think I felt…”

She moves off me, much to my disappointment, but snuggles in close, which I fucking love.

“I felt lost without her. I’m the odd one out in my family.

Mom was just as athletic and competitive as my dad and siblings, but she never made me feel like something was lacking in me because I wasn’t.

Toby and Elise took up a lot of the air in the room.

It’s easy to forget about the quiet kid. ”

“It would be impossible to forget you.” I rub my hand in circles along the small of her back.

“The panic attack is done. You might be the confidence coach, but I’m pretty sure neither of us wants to talk more about my feelings.”

Her words shouldn’t bother me, but they do. I shouldn’t want to deny them, but the truth is I want to hear all about her feelings, especially if they’re anywhere near the level of mine. I don’t say that, of course. Instead, I press a kiss to her temple.

“That’s right, because you’re using me for my body,” I murmur. I feel her start to pull away, so I loop an arm more tightly around her waist. “Or at least what my body can do for you.”

She laughs softly. “I don’t think there’s a woman out there who would blame me. But I truly didn’t mean?—”

“Don’t say the word again,” I command. “It’s okay. We both know what this is.”

Who am I to demand more from her when I could stay if I wanted to, but I’m still not planning on it?

I could retire. I’ve got plenty of money saved up, and I like working for Marty. But I’m returning to my own life because it’s what I know. And what I know has kept me safe for a long time.

She tries—and fails—to stifle another yawn.

“Go to sleep, Tinkerbell.” I pull her against my body like we’re two crescent moons. “I’ve got you.”

And for now, I do.