Page 46 of The Lilac River (Silver Peaks #1)

Waiting for Love - Avicii

Nash

T aking Lily by the hand, I led her into my room.

Nerves, anticipation, need, desire, every emotion attacked my synapses at once.

There was urgency in my steps, yet I wanted to make it last. I wanted to savor every single moment because tonight, this moment, wasn’t just about sex.

It was about us. About rebuilding something sacred.

It was our new start. The beginning of what I hoped would be a lifetime of firsts and forevers.

"Nice room." Lily gave a nervous little giggle, her voice soft and uncertain. "A bit different to how it used to be."

I glanced around, suddenly seeing it through her eyes, the California King bed made up with dark blue sheets, the rich cream walls softened by the warm glow of the bedside lamps, the white plantation shutters that let in just enough moonlight.

It was clean and tidy...but somehow sterile.

Nothing of my personality really lived in it anymore.

Aside from a photo of Bertie, and one of Mom, the space didn’t say much about me, who I was, or who I’d become.

I had a walk-in closet, a heavy oak set of drawers, and an old wingback chair that usually had a pile of clothes draped across it.

I’d made an effort for tonight. I’d cleared the chair, tossed the laundry in the closet, lit a candle I found in a drawer that smelled like vanilla and cedar.

I’d even washed the damn sheets. Lily didn’t need the stench of sweaty men, livestock, or old regrets clouding what I hoped would be the night she remembered for the rest of her life.

"It could be nicer," I offered with a shrug, like it didn’t matter, even though it did.

"Dad had it redecorated while I was at college.

Thankfully, I got home before he bought any fugly furniture for it.

Not in time to save my posters and trophies, though.

Those got boxed up. Probably rotting in the barn. "

Lily's gaze wandered the space, landing here and there with a curious, familiar tenderness. Lingering over the familiar and unfamiliar pieces, the small comforts and impersonal polish.

"It smells lovely in here," she said with a soft smile. "No sweaty football gear or that awful cologne you used to wear."

I clutched my chest. "You wound me."

Her laughter lit the room.

That cologne had been horrendous. Until Lily had gently confiscated it and marched me down to the mall to find something that didn’t smell like a synthetic forest fire. I still wore the one she picked. Every day. Had done for ten years. Even when I thought she’d never come back.

"That smell would be the furniture polish," I added, with a grin. "Oh, and I vacuumed. Trying to evolve past the Neanderthal stage."

"It's a good start." Lily gave me a coy smile over her shoulder as she trailed her fingers across the comforter. At the head of the bed, she bent to sniff the pillow. My eyes followed her hungrily.

"They smell of detergent. Did you wash your sheets too?"

"I did. Especially for you."

Her smile faltered, softening into something deeper, heavier with meaning. When she straightened, I drank her in.

Every curve. Every line. Every golden inch of her.

Her breasts strained against the thin white cotton of her summer dress, delicate cutouts revealing bronzed skin like glimpses through clouds.

Thin straps tied at her shoulders, and the fabric cinched at her waist before flaring out into a floaty skirt that hit mid-thigh.

She was sun-kissed and glowing, radiant in a way that had nothing to do with the moonlight and everything to do with her just being Lily.

God, she was everything.

I imagined her in another white dress. A longer one. A dress with buttons or lace or tulle. One that would change both our lives forever.

"I would do anything for you, Lila," I said roughly. Honestly.

She stepped closer, her fingers curling through the belt loop of my jeans. Her voice was small, raw. "I know. And thank you. Because... I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Hey." I reached up and tucked a wave of hair behind her ear, letting my thumb trail along her cheekbone. "What did I say about no more apologies?"

A decade of hurt and silence hovered between us, but in this moment, we let it fall away.

No more dwelling on the past.

Tonight was about us.

About healing.

No more words. I stepped forward and slowly, purposefully, tugged one of the little shoulder ties on her dress. It slipped loose with a gentle sigh. Then the other. My breath hitched as the straps dropped.

I traced the curve of her breast with my fingertip, watching her nipple pebble beneath the thin cotton. A tiny moan escaped her lips, low and sweet, and it went straight to my dick, heat coiling in my gut like wildfire.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her teeth catching the bottom one. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. She was shaking, just slightly, but not from fear.

"Turn around," I said, my voice low and gravel-rough.

She hesitated just a beat, then did as I asked, sweeping her hair over one shoulder to reveal the zipper trailing down her spine.

I stepped closer and slowly dragged it down, savoring the whisper of fabric and the tremble in her body. Her breath caught.

The dress fell to the floor.

She wore only a white lace thong. Nothing else.

Fuck me.

Her ass was the kind of perfection sculptors dreamed about. Round, firm, tanned. I had to grip my thighs to stop from biting it right then and there.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and turned her to face me.

Tan lines teased across her breasts—sunshine ghosts on honeyed skin.

"Jesus, Lila." My voice came out as a rasp. I skimmed my thumb along one soft curve. "You have no idea what you do to me."

Her hand pressed over my heart, trembling slightly. Her eyes searched mine, glassy with emotion. "I never thought... we'd get back to this. Me. Here. In your room."

I silenced her with a fingertip against her lips.

"Doesn’t matter. We’re here now."

Still, she shook beneath my hands.

"It’s just..." she whispered. "Last time was fast and frenzied. I'm scared this won't be enough. That I'll disappoint you."

My entire chest clenched. Her fear, her vulnerability, her heart laid bare.

"You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried," I said, and sealed it with a kiss.

She gasped against my mouth, and the sound ignited something wild in me.

I needed her.

My shirt was off in seconds. I backed her toward the bed.

"Sit," I growled.

She obeyed. Legs pressed tight, thighs twitching with need.

"Nash," she breathed, voice unsteady.

"Open your legs."

She did.

I dropped to my knees.

Pressed a kiss to her stomach. Another just above the lace of her thong.

"This," I whispered against the fabric, "is mine. Every part of you. Mine ."

She whimpered, her fingers tangling in my hair.

"I want to taste you," I murmured. "But not yet. You’re not coming until I’m inside you. Understand?"

She nodded frantically. "Yes."

I peeled her thong down her legs slowly. Slow like unwrapping the most precious gift. Her scent hit me. Sweet. Intoxicating.

I stood, freeing myself from my jeans.

Her eyes locked on my cock. Hunger darkened her gaze.

"You ready for me, baby?"

"I've been ready for ten years."

I pushed her down on the bed and climbed over her, pinning her wrists above her head.

"You remember how this feels?" I asked, nudging against her entrance. "You remember how hard I used to make you come?"

"I never forgot," she whispered.

With a snarl, I buried myself inside her with one thrust.

She cried out; raw, broken, beautiful.

I held still for one perfect heartbeat.

Then I began to move.

Hard. Deep. Every thrust a punishment for the time we lost and a promise of everything to come.

The bed slammed against the wall, the headboard thudding a rhythm that matched the storm inside me.

"You feel that?" I hissed. "That’s what you’ve been missing."

Her hands clawed for something, anything to hold.

I caught her wrists again, pinning them. My lips brushed her jaw, her throat, her chest.

"Nash," she cried. "Harder. Please."

"Say it," I demanded, hips snapping. "Say you're mine."

"I’m yours!" she screamed. "Always!"

I shifted, wrapping one hand gently around her throat. Not tight. Just enough to feel her pulse race.

Her walls clenched.

"You gonna come for me like this?" I growled. "While I’m choking you, fucking you, loving you?"

"Yes. God, yes!"

I let go of her throat, dropped my hand to where our bodies met. One rough stroke over her clit?—

She shattered.

Screaming into my mouth, her body bowing as she came.

I followed seconds later, groaning her name as I spilled inside her. My whole body shook.

And still, I didn’t let her go.

Waking with Lily wrapped around me felt like stepping into a dream I’d never dared to hope for.

It was almost sunrise. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about her, about us, about what came next.

Lily slept soundly, lips parted, her body pressed against mine.

We’d made love three times. Took a shower together. She’d kissed the scar on my knee like it was holy. Gave me a blowjob that erased my entire vocabulary, and we didn’t collapse until almost four.

I slid from the bed, kissed her bare shoulder, and pulled on sweats.

Quietly, I opened the balcony door.

This had always been my lookout point, watching over the ranch, nursing bourbon and pain.

But now... she was here.

I sat in the chair, waiting for the sunrise.

The door creaked behind me.

There she was wearing my shirt, hair wild, makeup smudged, the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen.

"Hey, baby." I opened my arms.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nuh-uh." She curled into my lap, warm and soft and home.

"What are you doing?" she asked sleepily.

"Waiting for the sunrise." I sighed, grateful and at peace. “I used to think it was beautiful before. But watching it with you, now, I understand how beautiful it really is.”

She snuggled closer, dropping a kiss to my chest. "You know," she whispered, "if you listen carefully, you can hear the hiss."

My chest tightened.

She taught me that once by the creek, the night the world stopped and began.

"I know," I said thickly. "I taught Bertie."

Her eyes filled with surprise.

"You did?"

"Yeah. She watches with me sometimes. I guess I wanted her and I to have a little bit of you."

"Oh, Nash..."

I held her tighter.

"I usually watch it from the porch, but I didn’t want to be far from you," I said. "And once the sun’s up, I’m carrying you back inside. Because I’m not done loving you yet."

She smiled.

"Don’t you dare go easy on me," she whispered.

"Never, Lila," I breathed. "Not even a little."

She giggled and smacked my chest lightly. "Ssh. It’s about to rise."

And in that soft, golden silence, we waited for the sun.

And listened together for the hiss.