Whatever self-control Julian had snaps as he alternates between long strokes and deep thrusts of his tongue. He studies my reactions like I’m his favorite subject, his attention never straying from my face, and I have to break eye contact multiple times because what reflects in his eyes excites me way more than it should.
I detonate with a single thrust of his finger and a rough tug of my clit with his mouth. My leg locks around his neck as I trap him against my pussy, forcing him to keep going while I ride out my orgasm.
I’m so lost in my lust that I don’t notice Julian’s jerky movements until he is groaning against me. I glance down at the mess he made of the floor.
Holy shit.
Julian came to the sound and taste of me. I’ve never felt more powerful in my life than with him on his knees, still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm while he stares up at me with an expression I’m too afraid to dissect.
He got my hopes up once before, and I refuse to fall for it again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Julian
After cleaning the floor and fixing our clothes, I take advantage of Dahlia’s post-orgasm bliss before she has a chance to come to her senses.
“Have dinner with me?” The words rush out of my mouth as I grab her hand and tug her away from the attic door.
Her eyes widen. “You were serious about that?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My place.”
She glares. “I should say no after the prank you pulled.”
“But you won’t.” I kiss her knuckles.
Her brow rises in a silent taunt. “You sure about that?”
“Don’t make me beg.”
“I’d love nothing more.” She pushes on my shoulder with a single finger. “Ask me again. On your knees.”
Dahlia is the only woman I would enthusiastically get down on my knees for, and I prove it to her as I follow her order.
I tease her hip with the pad of my thumb. “Put me out of my misery and say yes.”
“That’s possible?” Her eyes gleam.
“Hilarious.”
“Fine. I’ll join you, but only because you’re doing that sad puppy dog look again.”
I had no idea I had one, but I’m glad to have the weapon in my arsenal as far as she is concerned.
“Let’s go before I change my mind.” Dahlia interlocks our fingers and pulls me through the house and out the front door. We stop in front of her car, right beside the driver’s side.
“What are you thinking about having for dinner?” she asks as she digs through her purse for her keys.
I cage her against the door and steal one last kiss. “Takeout.”
“So much for being a good dirty talker.”
“You asked me what I wanted for dinner. Not dessert.”
Her skin turns the prettiest shade of pink. “Oh.”
I trace the curve of her cheek with my thumb. “Is there anything you’re in the mood for in particular?”
“Some sushi from Aomi sounds amazing.”
It takes me a moment to process her request. “That fancy place in New York?”
“Yeah.” She laughs. “But anyway, joke aside, I’m up for whatever. Surprise me.”
“That I can do.” I kiss her forehead before grabbing my key ring and detaching the one to the house. “Here.”
She gapes at the key. “Moving a little fast, aren’t you?”
“Shut up and take it before I revoke your chance to snoop around without me being there.”
Her face lights up. “?Neta?” The slight raised pitch in her tone makes the possible blackmail worth it.
I’m positive Dahlia’s love for investigating began when she borrowed her first Nancy Drew book from the library, and it’s never stopped.
I dangle the key in front of her, keeping my grip tight to stop her from noticing my twitching muscles. “Stay downstairs.”
She cocks a brow. “What are you hiding up there?”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Dahlia takes off toward my house while I drive to town. While I can’t get her sushi from Aomi at the last minute, I place an order with Lake Wisteria’s best—and only—sushi spot before they close their doors for the night.
Although I planned on taking the long way back home to give her time to conduct a thorough investigation of my place, I decide differently. I’m afraid she might end up going upstairs and checking out my bedroom solely to satiate her curiosity.
Unlike the usual oppressive loneliness that hits me whenever I turn into my driveway, my body buzzes with anticipation as I park my car in the garage and walk inside the brightly lit house.
Neta: Really?
I’m welcomed by the sound of Dahlia messing around on the piano in the distance. Unlike Nico, she lacks the proper skill and training to do anything but massacre her way through “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
My spine tingles as I walk through the long hall leading to the formal sitting room. Never have I felt this excited at the end of a workday, and I pause to process why.
No painful silence. No dreadful loneliness. Nothing but a strong sense of contentedness as I think of the person waiting for me.
You’re getting attached, the cautionary voice speaks up.
I’m pretty sure it’s far more serious than that.
It’s love.
Something is shifting inside me—that much was made clear when I returned to carpentry after almost a decade avoiding it—and it has everything to do with Dahlia.
When she hits the last note, I enter the room.
“Dinner’s here.”
She startles, banging her fingers against the keys. “You scared me.”
“Did you have fun looking around?”
“Tons. Check out what I found next to your prized The Little Prince collection.” She stands and reveals the Second Best trophy she gave me.
Damn. I was so focused on keeping Dahlia away from my bedroom that I forgot about the incriminating trophy.
“I’m flattered you kept it after all this time.” She rubs at an invisible stain.
“It’s a reminder of what failure feels like.” The words come out at lightning speed.
“So you keep it beside your most prized possessions? Interesting location choice given how big your house is.”
I blink slowly.
She smirks. “I know you bombed our physics final on purpose.”
“You have no proof.”
“Physics was your strongest subject and my weakest. There was no way I could have beat you any other way.”
I exercise my right to remain silent.
“Why did you do it?” she asks.
The hum of the heater starting up echoes around the house.
Her brows scrunch. “Did you do it because you felt bad for me?”
“No,” I blurt out.
“Then, why?”
“Because I liked you.”
Her eyes widen. “Since when?”
“I’m not sure when it started,” I lie.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Risk-averse, remember?”
She gives her head a good shake, although it doesn’t wipe the disbelief from her face. “If I hadn’t kissed you during that Stanford Halloween party, would you have made a move?”
“I had no idea what I wanted back then.”
Her brows crinkle with confusion. “But you liked me.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you push me away when your dad died?”
“A few misguided reasons, but mainly because I was too proud to deal with my grief in the way I should have.”
Her mouth drops open.
“I took on way too much all at once, thinking if I fixed the struggling business or helped my mom through her depression, my own pain would go away.”