Love Me If You Dare (Safe Haven) (15 page)

“Your
mom called me this morning.” A hint of that anger he claimed to be over trailed
back into his words. “We had a very interesting conversation.”

“What?”
I gaped, my mouth hanging open like a fish. My mom had called Dylan? She’d
seemed more coherent last night than I’d seen her in years, but it was still
spectacularly weird.

Abruptly
Dylan turned away, paced a few steps, then ruffled his hand through his hair.

“I
can’t believe you thought that I blamed you for Ella’s death.”

His
words took the wind right out of my lungs. I wheezed, hugging my arms to my
stomach, and blinked up at him, trying to catch my breath.

“You—that
night-—the way you looked at me—” I couldn’t keep up with the thoughts
jumbling up my brain. “You were so angry. Scary angry. It’s burned into my
mind.”

“Fuck.”
Dylan swore, turning away to pace a few more steps before whirling back to face
me.

“I
never knew that that’s what you thought.” Those amazing eyes of his looked
tortured, and I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to
soothe him.

“What
else was I supposed to think? It was the truth.” My throat constricted, and it
hurt to swallow.

That
was when I saw pity in Dylan’s eyes. He made his way back to me in several long
strides, cupping my face in his hands and brushing the lightest of kisses over
my lips.

“I
was furious, Kaylee, but not with you.”

“Who,
then?” My skin burned beneath the touch of his hands.

“I
was mad at myself, for not doing something to stop her.” His breath misted over
my lips, and I wanted to close my eyes to bask in the sensation.

But
I wanted to look at him, to watch the stark honesty that was playing out over
his face.

“And
more than that, I was pissed at Ella for doing what she did. She had problems,
but instead of accepting all the help that was available to her, she took the
easy way out. She crushed so many people by doing it. And I’ll never be able to
forgive her for that, no matter how much I might miss her.”

I
opened my mouth, then closed it again. I knew I probably looked like a fish,
but I didn’t care.

God,
but he was so right.

A
giant sob like sound escaped my throat as I buried my face into his T-shirt. He
slid his hands from my cheek to my waist, pulling me in tight, holding me
close.

Though
strange, animal like cries shook my body, my eyes remained bone dry. Still he
held me as I heaved, letting me lean on him the way I’d done for him the day
before.

When
I’d finally quieted, he lifted me up, carried me to the spot on the hood of my
car where I had been sitting earlier. Pulling me toward him, he wrapped my legs
around my waist, then pulled me to him for a kiss.

And
another one. And then yet another. Though I couldn’t hold back the moan, and
though I could feel his erection through his jeans and my shorts, all we did
was kiss, holding on to one another like we would drown if we let go.

Minutes
might have passed, or maybe an hour. Finally we drew our lips apart, and just
leaned on one another in silence, watching the sun move across the sky.

“Where
do we go from here?” He finally asked, and I understood the multiple meanings
of his question.

I
only had one answer, the first one.

But
it was enough for now.

O
ne
month later I turned my car, now with a new tire, into the driveway of Dylan’s
small house. Poose was in the dog run, and she yipped when she saw me, jumping
like a kangaroo trying to leap with fence with her exuberance.

Dylan
was at the door before I was all the way up the walk. He stuffed his hands into
his pockets as he watched me approach, his expression unreadable and yet
somehow still friendly.

“Hi,”
I said nervously, my stomach dancing with happy little butterflies. Through the
entire drive from Frenchglen I told myself how stupid it was to be nervous.
This was the man who had seen me at my absolute lowest and still somehow wanted
me.

But
a month was a long time. He hadn’t been happy when I’d told him about it, but
he’d understood that I needed the time away.

But
talking on the phone, texting, emailing—it wasn’t the same as seeing each other
face to face.

What
if he’d changed his mind.

“Hey,”
he smiled at me, that sexy curve of the lips that did funny things to my
insides. I took the hand that he held out, savouring the sensation of his palm
pressed against mine.

“Wow.”
I followed him into the kitchen, taking in details that somehow didn’t surprise
me much anymore. The slate gray paint, the baseboards that still gave off a
faint aroma of freshly cut wood, the hardwood floors that were sticky with
fresh varnish.

Someone
had given this house a lot of love. And I knew without asking that that person
had been Dylan. Over the last month I’d come to understand how deeply Ella’s
death had affected him, how much he’d wanted to distance himself from the shit
that had dragged her down.

Really,
we hadn’t reacted all that differently, the two of us. We’d both been startled
into a metamorphosis by grief, and were just now coming out of our cocoons and
seeing who we really were.

“Tell
me that’s spaghetti.” My mouth watered when Dylan led me into a small kitchen
done in shades of blue. It was clearly a masculine room, but it was tidy and
looked like he actually used it.

“It
is.” He grinned at me, his expression almost shy. “I wanted to do something
nice for your first night back. You deserve it.”

“Oh,
you are so getting lucky for this, McKay,” I smiled back flirtatiously. I was
joking, just teasing him, but when his expression darkened with desire my mouth
went dry.

“The
sauce will keep.” He approached me slowly, intent clear on his face.

“I—”
I wanted him... oh God, but I wanted him. Apart from some interesting phone
calls, I hadn’t even kissed him in a month.

And
we hadn’t ever done what I thought we were about to do. My nerves made me
tremble, but there wasn’t any kind of decision to make. Not even if part of me
thought that we should maybe sit down and talk, or something, first.

I
wanted this. I wanted him.

“Where?”
I whispered, my voice hoarse. I cried out when he lifted me right off my feet,
carrying me just like heroes did in movies.

I
didn’t pay any attention at all to the rest of the house as he strode down the
hall and into a bedroom.

“Kaylee.”
He slid me down his body until I knelt on the bed while he stood, pressed
against me. His fingers danced over my cheeks, my eyes, my jaw, my hair, like
he was trying to reacquaint himself with my body.

I
watched through half lidded eyes, awed by the expression on his face.

Slowly,
gently, he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss would have been chaste if not for
the fire behind it, and I felt my breath quicken at the contact.

Eager,
I clasped the hem of his T-shirt in my hands and tugged. When he tugged the
garment over his head, I stripped away my own top. When his stare landed on my
breasts, plumped up as they were in a pale pink lace bra, I shivered as though
he had touched them with his hands.

“Beautiful.”
Slowly but with a sure touch, he traced his fingers over the upper swells of my
flesh, into my cleavage, and then finally, finally over my aching nipples.

Growling,
he reached around my back and tugged at the clasp of my bra. Laughing
breathlessly, I twisted to help him with the finicky clasp. After a long,
frustrating moment the garment fell away, and we were skin to skin, the
hardness of his chest abrading the sensitive tips of my breasts.

“I
want to taste you.” Dipping his head, he drew one of the points into his mouth.
I cried out, my back arching, as he lightly scraped his teeth over the tender
flesh.

“Dylan—I
want—” My brain short circuiting with sensation, I fumbled for the button at
his waist. “I can’t go slow. I want you so bad.”

“Thank
God for that.” He mumbled around my nipple. His touches became faster, more
urgent as he helped me undoing his pants, then did the same for the shorts that
I was wearing.

The
garments fell to the floor. I sucked in a breath when he pressed me back
against the bed and I discovered that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

All
that was separating our flesh was the thin cotton of my thong, and it wasn’t
much of a barrier—it was already damp with my need.

“Kaylee,
if you want to stop, this is the time to say so.” Dylan moaned when, instead of
pulling back, I slid my hands between our bodies. I splayed my hand over his
chest, moved down to the flat of his belly...

When
I curled a tentative hand around his erection, his body tensed like a cannon
about to go off.

Liking
his reaction, I tightened my grip and moved my hand up and down. The muscles in
the arms that braced him above me were strained, and I couldn’t quite believe
that it was me making him feel this way.

“Stop,”
he finally rasped out. “You have to stop or it’s going to be all over.”

Obediently
I removed my hand, but couldn’t stop the upward thrust of my hips.

I
wanted him, and I didn’t think I could wait any longer. The build up between us
had been years in the making, and I was more sure of this than I had been of
anything in my life.

“Don’t
move.” Stretching that long body out on top of me, Dylan reached for something
on his bedside table. Clasping it between his teeth, he tugged at the packet
until the foil ripped.

He
spat the wrapper aside, then knelt back on his heels to slide the condom over
his erection.

“Dylan.”
I watched, breathless, at the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. Once the latex
covered him to the root, he hooked a finger in each side of my thong and
slowly, slowly drew the scrap of fabric down my legs.

I
was naked. He was naked.

I
hummed my approval, fisting my hands in the covers of his bed. I wanted him
more than I wanted my next breathe.

“Are
you sure?” As he spoke, he trailed a finger up the inside of my thigh. I nodded
my affirmative, vibrating beneath the touch.

Then
his touch moved to the hot space between my legs. I cried out as he slid it
back and forth, rubbing over my clit then dipping inside.

“I
want to be here,” he said, his voice solemn. His fingers did something wicked
and I writhed beneath him.

“Will
you let me in?”

“God,
yes!” Frantic, I arched into the touch. I heard him chuckle, and then felt my
legs being spread wider.

His
fingers left my heat, and I moaned at the loss, but it was replaced almost
instantly by the head of his erection.

I
looked up at him, into his eyes, as he slowly slid inside of me. He looked
right back, and something clicked into place as we joined.

This—us
together—this was just about perfect.

“I
don’t know if I can go slow,” Dylan whispered hoarsely as he drew back, then
pushed back in. I whimpered, it felt so good, and clasped my fingers into his
lean hips.

“Don’t,”
I replied, and my voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. “Do whatever
you need to. This is perfect.”

We
rocked into one another, the pace slowly building up momentum until we thrust
frantically, searching for that final moment of perfection.

His
body tightened on top of mine. I felt a surge of smugness, wanting more than
anything to get him there.

“Come
for me,” I widened my stance, taking him as deeply as I could.

He
shook his head, braced himself on one elbow, and slid his hand to the place
where we were joined.

“Not
until you do.” I think I might have screamed when his fingers again found my
clit. I’d been so close already, just from the intensity of it all. But he
played me with fingers that were completely attentive, and within minutes my
body tightened and I cried out, clenching around him.

He
followed me moments later, thrusting once, twice, then burying himself inside
of me with a groan.

When
he finally pulled out and collapsed beside me, I curled into him, placing my
hand over the place where his heart beat thumped, strong and steady.

This
was where I wanted to be.

***

W
e
lay there until the sweat on our bodies dried and our skin cooled, just running
hands over one another, enjoying the togetherness. Finally I cleared my throat
and said the words that had been circling my mind ever since my sanity had
returned.

“I
declared a major,” I held my breath as I waited for his response.

“Oh,
yeah?” Propping his head on his hand, he studied me intently as his free hand
traced through my curls, which by now were a sex snarled mess. “And?”

He
couldn’t quite contain the small smile, but I had one of my own.

“Nursing,”
I said. It was the first time I’d said it out loud, and it felt just right.
“I’m going to be a nurse. An ER nurse, I think.”

“That’s
perfect for you.” He continued to stroke my hair, and I nuzzled into the touch
like a kitten.

He
paused before speaking again.

“You
know, the hospital in Portland is always advertising that they need nurses.”

I
tensed, then forced myself to relax. Was he asking about what I thought he was
asking about.

“They
do,” I tried to keep my voice light, but my heart was pounding with
anticipation. “But it’s two hours away from here.”

“Bet
they need firefighters there, too.” His voice was casual, but I heard the
unasked question beneath it.

I
hid the surge of emotion by burying my face into his chest.

“I
still have a year away,” I whispered, my chest tightening painfully. “It
doesn’t make sense to transfer for my final year. I’d lose credits.”

He
kissed the top of my head, then coaxed me out of my hiding spot against his
chest.

“We
can get through a year, Kaylee. I love you.”

This
time I couldn’t suppress a grin. I sat up straight and beamed down into his
face.

“I
love you, too.” My voice was giddy, and he grinned at my exuberance.

His
voice was throaty and full of emotion when he spoke again, and the words
wrapped around me like a hug.

“We
can get through forever.”