His Reverie (23 page)

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not,” she says warily, though I can tell by the way her eyes are sparkling that she’s teasing.

“It’s definitely a compliment.” I study her, overwhelmed with the fact that Reverie wants to be with me. That she thinks I’m perfect. How did I luck out so good? What did I do to deserve her? “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

She presses her lips together, her gaze unwavering for a long, almost tense moment before she finally speaks. “You’re forgiven.” She breathes deep, her chest expanding with the motion. “Was that our first fight?”

“I think it was.” I lean into her and press my lips to her forehead, letting them linger. “You forgive me?”

“Of course. There’s really nothing to forgive.” She pulls away, a tiny smile curling her lips. “Maybe we should kiss and make up though? For like…hours?”

I touch her hair, smoothing it back from her cheeks, letting the silky strands sift through my fingers. We’ve already spent the last few days kissing for hours. It’s our favorite pastime. “Is that what you want?”

An eager nod is her answer, making me chuckle. “You aren’t tired of kissing me yet?” I ask.

Her eyes widen. “Are you tired of kissing me?”

Pushing her more firmly against the door, I release my hold on her and put my hands on either side of her head, caging her in. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of kissing you,” I murmur against her lips before I do just that. Long, wet kisses with plenty of tongue and those little soft whimpers she makes that drive me wild. Until the both of us are panting and I need distance yet again before I lose all control and tear off her clothes.

I’ve dreamed of it endlessly. A naked Reverie beneath me. She’s all I want. I’m consumed with the idea of making her mine. I should win a medal for how patient I’ve been. Everything in my life has always moved fast. Incredibly fast. I hardly had a chance to be a kid, what with how I had to grow up since I spent so much time on my own while Mom worked. I had to take responsibility. And funny thing was, I wanted it all to happen fast.

Now I’m forced to take things slow and though it’s driving me straight out of my mind most nights, I’m also enjoying it. Savoring my time with Reverie because I know it’s not going to last.

It can’t. And I think she knows it too.

“Do you want me to take you home?” I ask when I can finally find words. My heart is racing, it’s like I can feel my blood pumping in my veins and my entire body feels like it’s a live wire, buzzing and electric. All from a few heady kisses.

I’m trying to do the right thing here but it can be so damn hard sometimes.

She shakes her head, her slender hands coming up to cup my cheeks. “I want you to show me your room.”

“What about this?” I grasp hold of her hand and hold it up between us, flashing the ring she’s wearing at her.

Her eyes widen in shock and she drops her other hand from my cheek. “What about it?”

“Your father gave it to you right?” I keep my gaze level on her, watching as conflicting emotions wash across her face.

“How did you know?” She sounds surprised. Good. The girl always keeps me on my toes and uses it unknowingly to her advantage.

“Michael told me.”

A soft sigh escapes her and she gently tugs her hand from mine, staring down at the pretty ring on her finger. “My father made me promise myself to him,” she admits quietly. “More like he made me promise that I would save myself for marriage and pledge myself to him and God until then.”

Right. So her being here makes absolutely no sense. “What are we doing, Reverie? Why are you here? With me?” I need an answer. What’s happening between us feels like more than a few stolen kisses here and there. I like this girl. A lot.

Too much probably.

“It was easy to make that promise. Back when I was fifteen and never really talked to a boy. I knew nothing about the opposite sex. About sex in general. My dad wanted to use me as an example to the rest of his congregation. He worried that girls were falling prey to using their bodies to get what they wanted and I agreed.” She rests her hand on my chest, stroking absently, and my eyes want to cross at how good her touch feels.

“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to,” I say. It pains me to say it, but I don’t force girls to be with me. Mom taught me to respect women no matter what and I sure as hell respected her. I respect Reverie too. She stands by her beliefs and she’s not ashamed to admit them to me. She knows what she wants.

But the way she’s looking at me right now, I’m thinking that what she wants is me.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, Nicholas.” She smiles as she slips her hand beneath my shirt and touches my stomach, her fingers lightly tickling. “Show me your room.”

Anticipation curls through me, and that electric feeling intensifies. I know she’s trying to change the subject. She doesn’t want to talk about the promise she made to her father. Neither do I. “You sure?”

“Yes.” She kisses me, her lips soft and damp and I immediately want more. More kisses, more touches, more Reverie. “Please?”

We’re quiet. My brain is going a hundred miles a minute and I can only imagine what she’s thinking. “I won’t force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with,” I say, wanting to reassure her. “You understand that, right? You can say no. I won’t be angry.”

“I know. But I…I
want
to do things. With you. Only you.” She slings her arms around my neck and clings to me. “I want you to teach me.”

Damn, this girl… “Teach you what?” I ask hoarsely.

“Everything. I want to know everything. About intimacy and love and…sex.” She stumbles over the last word, which I think is kind of cute. And I swear there’s a faint pink flush in her cheeks. She’s blushing. Even after everything we’ve shared. And everything we’re about to share.

“We’ll take it slow,” I tell her. “And I’ll make it good for you, whatever happens. I promise.”

“You already do that,” she says, her smile shy, yet her voice sultry. I don’t know how she does that, the innocent plus sexy thing she has going on, but I love it.

Probably a little too much.

“Come on.” I withdraw from her, not letting go of her hand. I want to keep us connected. This moment we’re about to create feels…larger than life. Like we’re about to turn another corner in our relationship. “Let’s lock up and get ready for bed.”

“Bed?” She flashes me that same shy smile, though it’s a little bigger this time. “That sounds so…”

“Scandalous? Wicked?” I waggle my brows at her, trying to lighten the moment.

She bursts out laughing. “I was going to say normal.” Her laughter dies as she stares at me. “You make me feel so normal. There’s always a label on me. Reverend Hale’s daughter. The little girl who used to sing hymns on TV. The religious girl at school other girls are afraid to talk to for fear I’m some preaching freak who wants to talk about God all the time.” Her voice drifts off, the sad expression on her face tearing me up inside. I hate it when she’s sad.

“Do people really think that?” I ask.

“Oh yeah.” She nods. “But you never have. You didn’t even know who I was.” And she sounds downright thrilled by it too.

“I knew you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen,” I admit softly, making her smile.

She pulls me to her and kisses me right on the jaw. “Come on,” she whispers. “Let’s go to bed.”

We walk through the small apartment shutting off lamps and hitting light switches. She grabs her purse and brings it with her as we go to my bedroom, smiling shyly at me as I open the door. I’d left the bedside lamp on last time I went in there and now it casts a gentle glow throughout the room, which is small but somewhat decent thanks to some massive cleanup I’ve been performing the last few days when I could find the time.

“It’s nice,” she says as she steps inside, looking everywhere. At the walls, at my tiny desk, at the bookshelf Mom and I put together when I was in the eighth grade. “It’s so small.”

“My mom’s stuff is still in the master,” I say. “I just…don’t have the heart to change it. Not yet.”

“Oh.” She turns to face me, pity and sadness etched all over her delicate features. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’re not ready to move everything out yet.”

“No, I’m not.” She gets it and I love that about her. I don’t think anyone has ever understood me like Reverie does. “It’s still too soon. It’s not even been six months.”

“That is way too soon. You can clean it out when you’re ready. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks,” she reassures me, her gaze dropping to the bed. She chews on her lower lip nervously. “Your bed looks…comfortable.”

A simple navy blue comforter covers it. I’ve had the bed since I was twelve. It’s seen better days and it’s a double so it’s not very big but Reverie and I will fit. We’ll just have to lie real close together.

Such a hardship.

“It’s all right,” I say. “You want to test it out?” Her jaw drops and I chuckle. “What? Isn’t that why you’re here? To test out my bed?”

“I’m here because I want to spend time with you.” She reaches out and pulls at the bottom of my T-shirt, her hand sneaking underneath it, fingers tickling my stomach and making the muscles flinch. She flashes a knowing glance and just like that I’m hard. “And because I want to spend the night in your bed.”

“I knew it. You’re just using me for my bed.” I grab her by the waist, shocking her when I take her down with me so we’re both falling onto the mattress in a tangled heap. She’s struggling to get out of my hold, hitting my chest, laughing as I tickle her ribs. I coast my hands up, up further until they’re just below her breasts, and I’m smoothing my thumbs along the bottom of her bra.

She stills, her breath hitching in her throat and I stare at her, waiting for some sign of approval. Not even a minute in and I might’ve already pushed her too far. I start to withdraw when she subtly arches her back, filling my hands with her breasts.

There’s my answer.

Relief flooding me, I crash my lips onto hers, the touch of her tongue against mine sends a shockwave pulsating through my body. Her arms come up to weave around my neck, her fingers tunneling in my hair and holding me to her. Like I’m going to escape or something and she needs to grip me tight.

As if she has to worry about that. Wrapped around her on my bed is the only place I want to be.

I’m hungry. Fucking starved for more of her. I deepen the kiss, rolling her over so she’s on her back and I’m above her. All I can hear is our accelerated breaths, the creak of the mattress beneath us as we shift and move, the gasp that escapes her when I break away from her intoxicating lips to run my tongue along the length of her neck. Fuck, she tastes amazing.

“Oh,” she chokes out, sounding as overwhelmed as I feel.

The thin straps of her sundress are barriers I can definitely conquer. I ease one off her shoulder, along with the thin, lacy strap of her bra, my mouth blazing a path across her skin. She shivers, her hands falling to my shoulders and squeezing. Clinging to me.

I’m moving too fast. I can sense it. I need to slow down but I can’t seem to control myself. She’s not stopping me either. The sounds she makes, the way she moves against me is nothing but pure encouragement and I grab hold of the hem of her skirt, lifting it. Slow and easy, until it’s bunched around her waist and I see nothing but legs.

And thin, lacy little pale pink panties.

Closing my eyes briefly, I shake my head and lift away so I’m on my haunches in front of her. She lays there, unmoving, her eyes wide and luminous as she watches me. She props herself up on her elbows, her long hair swaying as she tilts her head to the side. “Everything okay?” she asks shakily.

“I should be the one asking you that.” I press my lips together, my gaze falling to her panties. My blood runs hot and straight between my legs and a pained sound escapes me. She is pure temptation. I want to slip my fingers beneath the lace. Touch her and find out just how hot and wet she is. Drive her wild until she’s writhing and gasping out my name.

“I don’t want to stop.” She shifts up and pulls her sundress over her head, throwing it onto the floor. The bra matches the panties. Seeing her like this, the reverend’s sexy daughter half naked and ready to give her body to me, I feel like I’m going to die. “Take off your shirt?” Her voice goes shy and soft and without hesitation I do as she requests, tugging my shirt off, relieved that the cooler air soothes my heated skin.

I’m on fire for her. Absolutely on fucking fire. The front of my jeans strain and I’m scared to strip off any more clothing for fear I’ll freak her out and send her running.

“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” she whispers as she scoots closer and rests her hands on my chest. Her gentle touch makes me flinch and she jerks away but I shake my head.

“Don’t stop,” I murmur, almost repeating what she said a minute ago.

Smiling up at me, she comes even closer, her hands on my chest, pushing me gently so I fall back onto the bed. She follows after me, her mouth at the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and I sink my hands into her hair, holding her close. Her bare, soft skin on mine is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Sparks ignite where her mouth presses and I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation of her silky hair dragging across my chest as she moves over me. We shouldn’t be doing this. But I’m sure as hell not going to stop.