Page 171 of Wicked Little Darling

But Reese…he excited me. He’d woken up some long-dormant part of myself I’d forgotten even existed. Or maybe he’d created a new part, a brand-new piece of my very convoluted puzzle. Either way, I looked forward to seeing him. And that had never happened before.

I wanted to keep that. I wanted to keep him. I wanted to believe that everything he’d told me had been the truth, in spite of the fact that he constantly lied.

The memory of him when he’d been drunk flashed through my mind. How he’d cried, his confession that he needed me. The raw, vulnerable desperation in his eyes, his voice, his very being.

I need you so bad it hurts. It hurts, Dakota. Right here.

That hadn’t been an act. Reese wasn’t calculating in his actions like my family; he was impulsive and reckless and reactive. He was emotional and didn’t think in the moment—which was one of the things I loved about him.

I feel like I’d do anything to keep you.

Fuck if I didn’t feel the same.

I think I’ve loved you forever.

Maybe I should wait. Just wait a little bit longer. I could ask him in a few days. Or a week.

Just...not today.

Reese hadhis arms wrapped around my waist, his face buried in my stomach.

He was fast asleep, and I was afraid to even turn the page in my book because I didn’t want to wake him.

But my fingers itched to touch him, to feel the soft fuzz on the side of his head then move into the longer waves. To glide along the butterfly on his cheek. To trail down each vertebrae of his spine, then dip into the little dimples at the small of his back. I wanted to feel every last inch of him, to memorize it all.

Lying here like this, lazing around on a crisp Sunday morning beneath the willow by the lake was…perfection.

I tipped my head back against the tree and closed my eyes, feeling the warmth and weight of him and wishing I could have this forever.

Wondering how I could get him to agree to forever.

I’d wanted to ask him all the questions buzzing around in my mind when we first came out here, but he’d looked so tired that I held my tongue and let him fall asleep on me.

His face was so relaxed right now, his breathing deep and even. He was the eye of the storm when he slept, and as soon he woke up he’d erupt into chaos once again.

I smiled at the thought, then sifted my fingers through his hair, curved my palm over his head and stroked him.

It was so, so hard not to touch him when he wasright here.

“I love you,” I whispered, trailing my fingers down his back.

He inhaled and nuzzled his face into my stomach with a little hum.

“What time is it?” His voice was rough with sleep, deep and low. Heat spread through me and my cock twitched.

Fuck.

Everything he did turned me on. Him just waking up got me going.

His lips curved up as he said, “You know I can feel you, right?”

The little smirk on his face sent me over the edge, and I pushed him onto his back and straddled him, pinning his arms beside his head as he laughed.

“That’s my line.” I dipped my head and sucked on his bottom lip, then let him roll me over when he pushed against my chest.

“What’s the matter?” He stacked his hands on my chest, propped his chin on top, and looked up at me.

“What do you mean?” How did he know something was wrong? Was I that obvious?