His Reverie (28 page)

“Yeah?” I say because my brain has gone blank, what with the way she’s looking at me like she wants to gobble me up.

She nods and bites her lower lip as she tilts her head. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Nick. I’ve missed you.” That she’s brave enough to admit that fuels me. And reminds me that lately she’s the bold one.

And I like it.

We turn toward each other at the same time and I pull her to me, her arms wrapped tight around my neck as she presses her face against my shoulder. “I don’t like being away from you,” she murmurs. “I was so scared you were mad at me. That you didn’t want to see me again.”

Sighing, I hold her close and smooth my hand over her head, playing with her braid. “I was never mad at you. It’s just…I hate the differences between us. That’s all.”

“There’s nothing wrong with differences, right?”

“We come from different worlds.” I pause and swallow hard. “I’m not worthy of you.”

She pulls away from me slightly so our gazes meet. Emotion swirls in the blue depths as she glares. “Don’t you dare ever say that again,” she says firmly, sounding angry. “I hate it when you compare us like that.”

“It can’t be helped.” I sound as helpless as I feel. “It’s a cold hard fact you need to face.”

“No. I refuse to.” She shakes her head and releases her grip on me, only to shove at my shoulders, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the mattress before I fall back on my butt onto the bed. “Tonight, we’re going to concentrate on nothing else but each other.”

I lay sprawled on the mattress, fascinated when she remains standing at the foot of the bed, right in between my legs. I prop myself up on my elbows so I can see her better and I eat her up with my gaze, how her curves are just a shadow hiding under the billowing fabric of her nighty, those long, sexy legs of hers calling to me. Making me want to grab her and beg her to wrap them around me.

I’m about to encourage her to join me when I hear her whisper my name and I lift my head, my gaze meeting hers. All the oxygen escapes my lungs as she slowly lowers those flimsy little straps off her shoulders, letting them fall to the crook of her elbows before she shrugs completely out of them. The nightgown falls to the ground in a whisper of fabric, revealing her to my gaze.

“Fuck,” I whisper hoarsely. I can’t look away. Reverie is standing before me in a pair of white panties and that’s it. Like she’s some sort of gift, a sacrificial offering just for me.

Only for me.

She’s trembling. I can see it. “I want you,” she says, her voice shaking. “So much.”

“Baby…” I let my voice trail off, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions swirling within me, and what she wants me to do. I want to do it too. So bad it’s killing me not to reach out and grab her right now. Push her onto the mattress, pin her beneath me and fuck her until we’re both screaming each other’s names.

But I can’t do that. We’ve fooled around, but she’s still a virgin. I gotta take it slow and make it right. She deserves more than a casual screw. She’s worth more than that.

Way more.

“I know we shouldn’t be together like this, locked away in my room. I know it’s a sin, what I want to do with you.” She licks her lips, leaving them damp, and I bite back the groan that wants to escape. “But how can something that feels so good between two people who care for each other be so wrong?”

I have no answer. I’m sure she hears all the time about sin and going against the word of God. She’s conflicted and I can sort of understand why. Again her feelings compared to mine reveal just how differently we were raised.

Reverie presses her lips together and briefly closes her eyes, as if searching for strength. She wraps her arms around her front, covering her chest and I wonder if she’s embarrassed. Maybe even regretting what she’s just done. “I’m falling in love with you, Nicholas,” she admits softly. “I know it’s probably happening much too soon but I can’t help the way I feel.”

Ah, damn. Her confession is exactly what I wasn’t looking for. Loving her will only end up hurting us both. I know it. She probably knows it too though she’d never admit it.

“Say something,” she whispers after a few minutes of silence. She sounds scared.

“I want you too,” I immediately answer, sitting up so I can reach for her. My words are a copout but I can’t say I love her. Not yet. I feel too raw, too vulnerable yet I’m not the one standing practically naked declaring my feelings for someone like Reverie is.

Christ, I’m such an asshole.

She drops her arms as I grasp her hips and pull her to me, pressing my face against her soft belly. I kiss her there, just above her navel, and her body trembles beneath my lips. I can smell her, feel her, and all I want to do is make her mine.

All mine.

She thrusts her fingers into my hair, holding me to her almost desperately. As if she’s afraid I might run away. “You touch me and I want to die. You don’t touch me and I want to die. My feelings for you confuse me so much. It…scares me. You scare me in the best way possible.”

“You scare me too,” I admit. “You walked into my life and turned it completely upside down.”

A little laugh escapes her as she relaxes her grip on me and gently combs my hair with her fingers. I close my eyes, reveling in her touch. It feels so good. So fucking right. “You did the same to me you know,” she agrees softly.

I’m quiet as I smooth my hands down her back, settling them right above her ass. I want to grab her and pull her on top of me but that she’s even standing in my arms with my face pressed against her naked stomach is pretty major. One wrong move and I could have her leaping out of my arms and telling me to stop. I don’t want to ruin this moment.

“This probably shouldn’t have happened. The two of us,” she says, her sweet voice full of such heartache I can feel my own crack heart in two. One half is mine and the other irrevocably belongs to her.

I tighten my hands on her hips, my trembling fingers curling into the flimsy waistband of her panties as I drift my lips across her skin from one sharp hipbone to the other. Her fragrant skin, the unmistakable scent of her is an intoxicating mix I can’t resist.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have happened but we did,” I murmur against her hip before I do what I’ve been wanting to do for the last five minutes and pull her down on top of me. She’s straddling my hips, her knees bent, my body sandwiched between her legs. “There’s no going back now, Reverie.” I wait for her to protest, to back out, to tell me no. I’ve been told no more times in my life than I can count. What I want, I rarely get.

But she doesn’t say no. She doesn’t push me away, slide off me, nothing like that. She’s smiling. She’s touching me. Her hands feel good on my skin. Her breath is warm and sweet and drifts across my cheek as she speaks.

“I don’t want to go back. Not if that means I can’t have you in my life.” She slowly grinds her body against mine, reminding me that she’s almost naked while I’m completely clothed. “I’m falling in love with you,” she whispers just before she kisses me. “I know you’re probably not ready to say it to me yet but that’s okay. I’m patient. I know you’ll see that we belong together.”

Her words slay me. I want to say those three words back to her so bad but I…can’t. I feel like a wimp. I can’t man up and tell her how I feel and it’s the lamest thing ever. Why am I so scared? Why am I so afraid something shitty will happen between us and that we’ll both end up fucked over completely?

If I ever did something to hurt her, I would never be able to forgive myself.

“You’re killing me,” I whisper against her lips before I devour them in a hungry, never ending kiss. She doesn’t even hesitate, just returns my kiss with equal enthusiasm. I’m hard as a rock, my hands are touching her like I have no control of them and as I pull her down on the bed, her body spread over mine, my hands beneath her panties, gripping her ass, my fingers descending between her legs, I know.

I’m done for. The two of us are in this all the way.

All the fucking way.

Dear Diary,

(August 1, 3:12 a.m.) I can’t sleep. Nick left the house a half hour ago. I watched him walk across the lawn and down the driveway until I couldn’t see him anymore. I made him text me when he got to his truck. I made him text me again when he got home. I called him as soon as I got the text, desperate to hear his voice, needing to tell him I love him.

But I chickened out on the love thing. I told him once already and he didn't say it in return. I’m sort of okay with that. I know he’s not ready. Me, on the other hand…I thought my chest was going to burst wide open, I needed to tell him how I felt so badly. I’m glad I said it.

What happened tonight changes everything. My feelings for Nicholas Fairfield are even stronger now. I love him so much. I know every inch of his body and he knows mine. He took my virginity. We’re connected now. No one can tear us apart.

No one.

I don’t understand why he worries so much about not being worthy of me. He acts like he’s a criminal or something. So he’s poor. So what? He works hard and has the kindest heart. He’s so thoughtful. It sounds like his mother was a wonderful woman. She must’ve been, to raise a good boy like Nick. He’s also so incredibly beautiful. His face. His hair. His eyes. Those lips. And his hands…I love the way he touches me. How careful he is with me. Almost as if he cherishes me and our time together.

He’s perfect for me. Perfect.

But I know my parents won’t agree. Daddy and Mama want only the best for me so their expectations are extremely high. It will be hard for any guy to meet their exacting standards, least of all the boy who worked for them all summer. A boy who is unsavory, at least according to Daddy and Mama. I still haven’t figured out what exactly makes Nicholas so unsavory. Regardless, my parents won’t understand why I like him. Why I want him to be mine.

He’s already mine. They might not approve but I’ll be eighteen in a year. Then I can do whatever I want. Be with whoever I want.

Maybe once they see how sweet Nick really is, they’ll get it. They’ll accept him. I can only hope they’ll see how good he is to me because he is. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me.

Ever.

I keep the little bottle of dreams on my nightstand so I can look at it every night before I go to sleep. I wish for good dreams, where Nick comes to me in them and he does, sometimes. And when I wake up in the morning, that bottle is the first thing I see.

I love what he made me, and what it represents. It’s me and him and us together. If we believe enough in the dream, we can make it come true right? I’m a dreamer and so is he.

I’m just trying my best to live up to my name.