Easing back, I inspect his face closely, wondering why my words have evoked such a reaction. Maybe he’s realizing how vulnerable he’s made himself today, and he’s uncomfortable. That must be it. “Remember, we’re going to be scared together.” The panicked look on his face dials down as I lean in, kissing one corner of his delectable mouth. “You wave that asshole flag around, wearing it with pride, but I’m onto you.” I playfully tweak his nose, softly smiling. “You do it to keep people away. To stop yourself from feeling. I recognize the signs, so don’t try to deny it. But it’s not who you are. Underneath that fa?ade hides a different man. One I really want to get to know.”
His hand moves to my hip. “I’ve told you things today I haven’t fully shared with anyone. You’re already getting under my skin.” His eyes drift to my mouth.
“You’re getting under mine too,” I whisper, pushing my body in closer to his. My eyes drop to his lips, and I want to know what it would’ve been like if Ash hadn’t interrupted us in the orchard that Sunday. Drawing on inner reserves of strength, I pin him with a confident gaze. “Kiss me.” I tighten my arms around his neck, moving our faces closer. “Kiss me like you’ll die if you can’t taste my lips.”
A chuckle rumbles through his chest. “You English students.” He shakes his head, his eyes turning a darker shade of green as his hands move to my hair. Slowly and methodically, he removes the tie from my hair, and glossy dark strands fall around my shoulders. “Are you sure this is what you want?” His gaze skims over my face as his fingers thread through my hair.
“Oh my God. Just kiss me already.”
He moves us back a little from the edge, wearing his trademark smirk the entire time. His lips part in a glorious smile, revealing his twin dimples, and we move at the same time, our lips colliding in perfect synchronization. Angling his head, he kisses my lips in an unhurried fashion, like we have all the time in the world. I cling to his shoulders, pressing myself in flush to his chest as our kiss continues. Heat skates over my skin, seeping into my bones, warming every part of me. Butterflies are doing cartwheels in my chest, and blood thrums in my ears. My hands dive into his silky-soft hair, and I moan into his mouth. Grasping the opportunity, he eases his tongue between my lips, groaning as he diligently explores my mouth. A throbbing ache pulses between my thighs, and when he pulls us down to the ground, lifting me over him so I’m straddling his thighs, I don’t raise any objection.
His arms clamp tightly around my back, keeping me in place so we don’t fall off the hill in the height of passion. Our kiss turns more heated, and we’re devouring one another, and it’s still not enough. He hardens underneath me, and black spots burst behind my closed eyelids as I grind against his erection, wishing we were skin to skin, yet knowing I’m not ready for that yet.
“Jesus, Viv.” Dillon moves his mouth from my lips to my ear, sucking on the sensitive flesh there. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“Less talking. More kissing,” I pant, and he chuckles, pressing a trail of hot kisses along my neck and across my collarbone before returning to worship my lips.
We kiss and kiss until we’re forced to break apart or risk lockjaw. Scooting back even farther from the edge, he leans against a smooth rock, holding me in his arms with my back pressed to his chest.
I cling to his strong arms, trailing my fingers along his skin, marveling at how safe and secure I feel in his embrace. At how easy this is. I lean my head back against his warm, hard chest, and a blissful sigh slips from my lips. Angling my head, I look back at him, loving how swollen his lips are from my kisses. Our eyes remain glued together, and we stare at one another for an indeterminate period, not talking, just drinking our fill.
It’s not awkward.
Not in the slightest.
If feels like the most natural thing.
It’s like looking into the mirror of my soul and seeing all my emotions reflected at me. No words are spoken, but words are redundant. My chest heaves with a rush of emotions, and I close my eyes as he plants a soft kiss to my lips. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate my first attempt at a date?” he whispers over my mouth.
My eyes pop open. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
I blink profusely. “I’m seriously your first ever date?”
“Woman. Am I the kind of guy who would lie about such a thing?”
“Valid point.” I grin, inwardly squealing as I lightly drag my nails through the bristle on his chin—just because I can. I get an inordinate thrill when my hands move to his hair because I have wanted to play with his hair so many times. “I love your hair.” I rub the silky strands between my fingers before fisting it in my hands.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his eyes glinting with unconcealed lust. “If you keep doing that, all gentlemanly thoughts will fly from my head and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Slowly, I extract my fingers from his hair, but it’s a chore.
“Ten,” I whisper, giggling when I spot his frown. “On a scale of one to ten, this date is a ten.”
“Huh.” He doesn’t look pleased, and I arch a brow. “Only a ten?” He nips at my earlobe, and I squirm. “I’ll have to try harder next time.”
I shake my head, fighting a smile. “Spoken like a true overachiever,” I tease. “It’s a ten, and the date isn’t even finished. I’m pretty sure you’ll struggle to top this.”
“Ha!” He barks out a laugh. “Challenge accepted, milady.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes again. “You’re such a dork.”
“As long as I’m your dork,” he says, and the moment turns heavier.
I smile, but I don’t reply. I don’t want to force labels on whatever this is. I just want to exist in this moment with him. He must agree because he lets it drop, and I face the front again, snuggling into his arms as I look out at the stunning view.
Dillon dots kisses in my hair, against my temple, my cheeks, and my neck, as we sit in silence, watching the gentle motion of the waves far below us, listening to the sound of excited children running around someplace behind us, and it’s sheer heaven. I could sit here like this with him for eternity.
The sun lowers in the sky, and a faint gray hue replaces the previous bright blue canvas. Swirls of cool air waft over us, and I shiver. “Time to go,” he whispers, planting an openmouthed kiss against my neck.
“Do we have to?” I grumble.
I can almost see his smile as he presses a kiss to my cheek. “Let’s grab some fish and chips and eat it on the beach,” he suggests, pulling us to an upright position.
“I think you’ve just elevated this date from a ten to a twenty.” I circle my arms around his waist, grinning up at him.
“Hell yeah!” He fist pumps the air. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
45
“Hey, are you okay?” Ash sticks her head through the door of my bedroom the following morning. Concerned eyes meet my bloodshot ones. “I heard you crying.”
“No,” I admit, sobbing openly.
She strides across the room, bundling me into her arms. “If my dickhead brother has caused this, I’m going to fucking castrate him,” she seethes.
I know how much Ash loves Dillon, so the fact she’s willing to instantly go into battle for me means more than I can say. Ash was out last night when I got home, so we haven’t had a chance to speak about my date. “It’s not Dillon’s fault. It couldn’t have been a better date, and he couldn’t have been more of a gentleman.”
“Ah.” She hugs me close, smoothing a hand along my back. “You’re feeling confused and guilty.”
I nod even though it’s more than that.
“The first time I slept with someone after Cillian, I physically threw up. Then I crawled into my bed and cried for three days straight.” She stares off into space while stroking my hair. “No one understood. They assumed I was over him because it’d been six months since things ended. They didn’t understand that grief and heartache don’t work to a specific timeline or understand how I could seem to be over him one day and be disconsolate the next.”