A Moment of Truth: A Complete Bonus Set (A Matter of Trust #1-2) (26 page)

BOOK: A Moment of Truth: A Complete Bonus Set (A Matter of Trust #1-2)
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“Sophie.” Just saying her name stabs me with the aching loneliness from my dream.

“I’m with you, Claire. It was just a bad dream,” he says, stroking my head, calming me.

“But it was so real. You couldn’t see me, and she was all over you, kissing you, and then she began undressing you . . . God, it felt so real. You said you loved her.” My body tenses. Just the thought hurts. He takes my hands, presses my palms together, sandwiching them between his.

“No.” He shakes his head and pauses, gently holding my eyes with his warm, green gaze. “Claire . . . there’s been so much I’ve wanted to say, so much I’ve wanted to tell you.” He pauses again, taking in every inch of my face. “I love
you
, Claire. I’ve loved you for a long while now.”

I gasp as he kisses me once . . . twice, cupping my face in his hands. He pulls back an inch. I could burst.
Is this real?

“I fell in love with sweaty, claustrophobic you in that lift all those months ago.” He smiles, stroking my cheek.

Tears pool in my eyes as I watch his lips, utterly spellbound.

“Totally and completely . . . and while we were apart, I realized that’s what I’d been feeling—it’s love, Claire. I’ve always loved you,” he whispers against my mouth, kissing away the tears that linger on my face.

He leans back a little, glancing down at the buttons of his shirt that I’m wearing. With tentative fingers, he begins to unbutton them. He brushes his lips against mine, murmuring, “I love you.”

My heart leaps and dances and twirls in my chest.

“I . . . want to show you,” he whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Trust me?”

My eyes flash to his burning gaze. “Yes.” My blood heats and surges to every right spot. Unable to break away from his spellbinding eyes, I find the edge of his T-shirt and lift it as he raises his arms. I drop the shirt to the floor.

I run my fingers down the sculpted muscles of his torso hesitantly, afraid he might dissolve into a dream . . . but he doesn’t. His abs flex with each shallow breath.

He reaches for my buttons again, slowly popping the last of them through their openings. His hands skim from the center of my collarbones to my shoulders, easing the shirt down my arms. He gathers it and drops it on the floor.

His fingers ghost across the neckline of my tank top while his lips brush along my neck and over to my left shoulder, showering it with tiny kisses. Kiss after slow kiss, he makes his way across my chest to my right shoulder, lavishing that one with an equal amount of affection. The fire that’s been smoldering low inside of me ignites.

Traveling up along my neck, he gifts my skin with warm, suckling kisses that cause chills to erupt down my arms and legs.

My heart thumps furiously. I can no longer breathe through my nose—only through my mouth; my chest rises and falls in time with each of his suckles.

Against my neck, he whispers, “I wanted to tell you that I loved you.” Suckle . . . kiss. “I was afraid I’d never be able to tell you.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

He angles my head to meet his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore, my love. You’re here, I’m here.” He pauses, his gaze intensifying as he quietly asks, “Let me love all of you?”

My breathing falters.

His eyes fixed on mine, he reaches slowly for the hem of my tank top and lifts it over my head, breaking our kiss only long enough to let the fabric pass. He quickly unhooks and discards my bra.

He hugs my topless chest against his, kissing me deeply. His skin is so warm, his muscles hard yet soft. He sits back, and biting his lip, he traces my silhouette from the tips of my shoulders, down the sides of my breasts to my waist. He drags his eyes up to meet mine. It seems like he has something to say, but he doesn’t speak—he just breathes hard as his fingers slide their way up my belly and come to a stop at my breasts.

“I . . . I . . .” he begins as his wide eyes and soft hands rest on my breasts. Kneading gently, swirling his thumbs over my nipples, he whispers, “I’ve thought about this the whole time . . . you—your body—all of you. I need . . .” He bends forward, closing his mouth around one nipple while loving the other one with his hand.

My head falls back. I’m utterly lost to the moment, to the night, to this most perfect man. High on his love, I can’t get his body close enough. Every inch of me aches for him and everything in me speaks his name in unison.

Dan.

And yet, even while he’s torching me with kisses so gentle, touches so sensuous, it’s the place between my thighs that calls out to him the loudest. As if he can read my mind, he carefully lays me back on the bed. After one sweet kiss on my lips, he leaves me with a smirk as he scoots down an inch to press a kiss under my chin . . . then another inch to kiss my collarbone and two kisses to my sternum. I watch him nip his way to my breasts. Taking the peak of one breast into the heat of his mouth, he sucks gently and then blows cool air against my nipple, which stands at his full attention.

“I need . . .” he murmurs against my heaving chest, continuing to lavish my breasts with his tender, loving care. He slides lower, kissing down my belly and dragging his hands along for the ride. When he reaches the waistband of my jeans, he sits up on his elbows and gazes at me. He pops open the button of my jeans.

“I love you, Claire.” He kisses and nibbles at my belly. “And I need all of you.” Flashing his dazzling eyes at me, he tugs on my pants as if asking for permission.

With hard, laborious breaths, I can barely utter the
yes
that’s stuck on the tip of my tongue.

He grins—
ziiip—
and my pants are quickly slipped off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, he lies back down with his head between my legs. He presses purposeful kisses up the inside of my right thigh as my blood rushes to my center.

He switches sides, leaving a trail of light kisses up the inner thigh of my left leg. His fingers follow along, hooking into my panties and tracing the delicate edges. Not soon enough, his face is mere inches from the most intimate part of me.

“Claire?” he whispers.

Hypnotized by his full, wet lips and mussed hair, I pant, “Yeah?”

“Right here?” He edges his nose up the center of the lace of my panties.

I whimper.

“Right here is where I want to be, my love. Right here—no one else . . . remember?” His lazy gaze overflows with equal parts love and lust.

“No one else. I love
you
.”

“I love
you
, too.” He drags my panties off and settles his face between my thighs again. “Which is why for the past seven weeks, I hoped one day I’d be able to tell you, to show you, just how much . . .” He leans forward and licks straight up my center.

“Oh God!” I cry out, unable to control my hips bucking off the bed.

“I love you,” he says and leans in to kiss and suck on my wet and ready flesh.

“Oh God!” I call out again, drawing in a sharp breath as his exquisite tongue explores.

He loves me with his mouth for the longest, most delicious time. My limbs grow weak and my legs shake as an intensifying need grows. As if he can sense how close I am, he stops and brings his face to mine. “I need you closer, my love.”

I sit up and kiss him. Hard. I yank his pants off him as fast as I can and try to climb on top of him, but he stops me.

“No,” he says quietly. “Tonight, I want to give you my love, give you all I’ve wanted to give you these last seven, in-fucking-credibly, long weeks.” With a devilish grin and a cocked eyebrow, he adds, “Please?”

I nearly swoon unconscious. How can one “please” make me delirious?
But, my God, I am. I’m out of my mind with love and devotion and desire . . . I need him.

I lie back. His beautiful, naked body hovers over mine as his hardness teases my softness.

“No more bad dreams, Claire . . . I love
you
.” And with that, he gently feeds my hungry body with all I want, everything I need.

“Oh God.” My eyes close as his every incredible inch pushes and pulls inside of me.

“Open your eyes, Claire.”

When I do, his gaze seems to express a million emotions.

His breath begins to fall hard from his parted lips. “This feels . . . so good. You feel so good. No one else?” he whispers, his voice husky.

I whimper. “No one else.”

He groans and plunges deeper, harder.

I arch up to kiss him, but he pulls back. “No, I need to see you, your beautiful face. I need to see you become mine again.”

Harder and harder we collide, my desire ratcheting to explosive levels. His brow furrows and his mouth falls open, but his eyes remain glued to mine.

My insides tighten and twist in the most delicious way. I grip tighter onto his sweaty back. Moans escape me.

Against my ear, he whispers, “I love watching your body react to mine . . . watching you get closer. I love that I can do that to you . . . I want to see you come undone, my love.”

And with that, I reach my peak as hard, pounding pulses echo from my center. Not a moment later, his face screws up in anticipation just like I remember and love.

He moans through his release, a garbled mix of my name and perhaps even a “fuck”.

He collapses on top of me, catching his breath while the weight of his body takes mine away.

“Dan?” I squeak out, tapping his back.

“Oh, sorry,” he says, flopping onto his side. But he stays close, throwing a leg over mine. Leaning up on an elbow, he shoots me the sweetest, most satisfied smile. I love how his hair is in wild disarray.

“I love you,” he says, kissing me gently.

Every cell in my body parties like it’s 1999. I smile, I blush, and I giggle, entirely overwhelmed by the love pouring out from his every word and action.

“I love you, too. It feels so good to say that.”

He kisses me again. “It feels so good to hear it, too.”

He strokes the side of my face, my cheek tingling at his touch. We’re quiet for a few minutes, catching our breath and soaking up the euphoria of the night. I run my thumb along his bottom lip, and leaning up, I kiss him gently.

I drop my head back on the pillow. “This day sure turned out differently than I expected,” I say, smiling.

“Yeah, I’d have to agree. I certainly didn’t expect to have you here, let alone naked in my bed.”

I giggle and we both shift to face one another. “What do you mean? I’ve been here the whole time. I just got lost under the mounds of laundry and pizza boxes.”

He laughs. “It’s a sty in here. Honestly, even I’m sickened by the mess.”

“Why didn’t Colin help you clean it up? Seems like that might have been a good alternative to the punching.”

“Fucking Colin,” Dan says, chuckling and shaking his head. “He meant well, but he drove me mad.”

“Why?”

“First of all, he hid my phone from me because . . . well, he was afraid I’d drunkenly call you, which I probably would have done; then he was over every night eating whatever I had in the house. Normally that doesn’t bother me, but sometimes I just wanted to be alone, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. Was he worried to leave you alone?”

“I don’t know. I was still working, and the hours at the end of filming got longer, so I didn’t have much free time. But when I did, I just wanted to be quiet and alone. Anyway, he meant well, but I was a prick, too.”

“Yeah, you didn’t let him watch
Grease
.”

“Ugh, that fucking movie. Colin’s loved that movie since the first time he saw it—I have no idea why. I mean, it’s okay, but Christ, to watch the thing ten times a day and then want to do karaoke at night with the songs? Fucking hell, enough is enough, you know? But that’s Colin.” He laughs.

“He cracks me up.”

“Yeah, he’s a good guy . . . and a great friend.” Dan pauses and smiles at me. “I loved watching you play today. You were incredible.”

I smile wide. “Thank you. I was so nervous! But . . . it was probably the most defining moment in my life. I’ve always dreamt of doing something like that, and I did it. I really did it!”

He kisses my forehead. “Yes, you did. I’m lucky I got to see it.”

“I was pretty shocked to see you there.”

“And I was shocked to see you wearing my shirt. It rivaled watching you play.” He smirks.

“Really?”

“Let’s just say that you should wear my shirts more often.”

“You have to wear them first, though. Actually, I’ll just go grab one from the dirty pile in the living room.” I start to get up.

Dan laughs. “Don’t you dare move,” he says, pushing me back down and throwing an arm and leg over me.

I laugh.

“So, no more teaching for you, huh?” he asks, playing with my hair.

“No; like I said earlier, teaching was never for me anyway. That was one of my many discoveries.”

Dan nods. “What other things did you discover?”

“A lot, but mostly that I’d let others dictate my life. I suppose I should have realized that long ago, but when you grow up thinking life should be lived a certain way, it takes a lot to dispel those ideas, know what I mean? I just never trusted myself.”

He nods. “You trust yourself now?”

“Yes, and even though I’m jobless and homeless—”

“Wait. Homeless? I thought you moved back with your parents.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I did, but . . . they don’t support what I’m doing right now and don’t want me at their house.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Claire.”

I shrug, trying to downplay the hurt that is still so fresh. “I planned to move back with Camille and Bridget anyway,” I say awkwardly. “Anyway, my point is that it’s liberating not having any parameters. There’s nothing holding me back from pursuing what I love.”

“Music.”

“And you,” I say, smirking.

He kisses me. “You don’t need to pursue me. I’m yours, my love.”

“When you say that . . . gah!” I slap my hands to my eyes and giggle.

“Say what?”

I uncover my eyes. “When you call me ‘my love’—it makes me want to pounce on you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, between that and your accent and well, all of you, the ‘my love’ just makes me want to do things to you.”

“So if I call you ‘my love,’ I’m guaranteed sex? Is that what you’re saying?” he asks with a wicked grin.

I laugh. “No, I’m not that easy.”

“I think maybe I should test that out—just for future reference.” He nestles in and begins nibbling at my ear, whispering, “If I get close like this . . .” Suck. Nibble. “And say, ‘I love you, my love,’ you might want to do things to me?” Nibble. Nibble. Suck. He glances at me.

“I’m not sure,” I whisper, my heavy breathing giving me away.

Suck. Nibble.

“Well, if I say, ‘I need you, my love,’ does that make you want to touch me?”

“You’d better watch it! You’re playing with fire here. I have seven weeks of pent-up horniness.”

“Well, my love, I think I’m hornier.” He begins kissing my neck.

“Are you challenging the level of my horniness?” I say, melting.

“Yes, my love, I am,” he murmurs against my skin.

“You’re going to use this against me, aren’t you?” I pant.

“Mmm, yes, my love.” His hand slides to my breast and starts playing.

My heart begins to beat the rhythm of the mating dance.

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