I head inside first to find a book, then return to the pool area. I'm wearing a light skirt with a thin sweater over a tank, so I take the sweater off, find a chaise in the shade, kick off my shoes, and settle in for the day.
I don't intend to fall asleep, but before I walked away from Dallas I wasn't getting much sleep because we'd filled the night with other, more interesting activities. After I walked away, I simply couldn't sleep. Or, rather, I couldn't sleep well. So after a few glasses of wine, exhaustion sucks me under, and I wake only when the mattress on the chaise shifts.
I blink, and find Dallas smiling down at me. "I talked with Liam. And then I went by the townhouse after work," he says. "You weren't there."
"I came here this morning," I counter. "You weren't here."
His mouth twitches with a tentative smile, but it never fully blooms. Instead, I watch as his brow furrows. And when he takes my hand, I hold tight, savoring the connection between us.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. "About Deliverance. About what I do and how it works and why I started it?"
"Yes," I admit. "I want to know everything." I let go of his hand and push myself upright. "But not right now. Now, I just want to ask you one question."
"You can ask me anything," he says.
"Do you love me?"
I see the answer in his eyes before he says a word. "You know me better than anyone, Jane. Don't you know the answer is yes?"
His words fill me, leaving no room for lingering doubts or fears. I ease off the chaise and stand, then hold my hand out for him.
"Inside," he says. "My bedroom."
"Oh, no," I counter, leading him away from the house and to the cabana. "I want to finish what we started."
"Christ, I adore you," he says as he lifts me up. I cling to him as he hurries into the cabana, then tosses me back onto the bed before tying the curtains closed.
"We're going to make this work, aren't we?" I say, and I know that he understands I don't mean just sex. I mean everything. Family. Social taboos. Deliverance. Nightmares and secrets.
"We are," he promises. "But right now, I need you naked."
"Then I guess you're going to have to do something about that."
"Oh, I will."
He reaches for my tank top, but I smack his hand away. He raises his brows in warning.
"You first," I say. "I want to watch."
"Do you? Well, whatever the lady wants."
He strips, kicking off his shoes. Tugging off his socks. He unbuttons his white shirt and slides it off, revealing the sculpted abs I love so well.
Slowly, he takes off his belt, then tosses it aside. Then he unbuttons his pants, lowers his zipper, and eases out of his khaki slacks. He's wearing boxer briefs, and his erection is bulging against the material.
I actually lick my lips out of reflex, making him laugh. "No way, sweetheart. Not until I taste you."
"Finish the show," I insist, and then gasp when he lowers the briefs and his cock, huge and thick and perfect springs free.
The truth is that I do want to feel him inside me, so much that my muscles clench simply from the thought of it. But I am patient. I can wait.
And I will relish every moment of anticipation until we get there.
When he's naked, he moves to me. I'm so turned on that every brush of his skin against mine as he frees me from my skirt and tank makes me shiver. And when he tugs down my silk panties and then raises them to his nose, I writhe on the bed with pure, lustful need.
He tosses them aside, then eases onto the bed. He kisses my lips, then trails more kisses over my aching breasts, my belly, all the way down to just above my mound.
Then he raises his head and gives me a look that says he knows exactly where I want his mouth next, but that I am just going to have to wait.