“Lana—”
I scoff. “I’m not going to make you pay merent, Christian.”
“Then…”
“Christian,” I huff a quiet laugh, “you built metwobookcases. You…You got all this furniture and…How?”
He shrugs and answers quietly, “Same day delivery.”
“Everything you’ve done, Christian. I… It’s all…perfect.”
“That doesn’t mean?—”
“Maybe not toyou.”
Don’t be an idiot, Lana Aurora Gomez!
Be an idiot, Lana Aurora Gomez!
This man loves me, and I don’t doubt that. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me, and I don’t doubt that either. These actions, theiractions.Actions mean something to me, they always have. Christian is here, being a better man that he was and entirely sober, and he’s doing these things forme. He’s doing the things he used to do before we were ruined.
Christian sighs, shifting uncomfortably and waiting for me to say something else. Or probably trying to figure out what to do or say to me next. But he stands there in jeans and a white t-shirt that does wonders for his tan skin and his gigantic arms, and I jump. My arms are thrown around his neck and it takes him a minute, but his arms come around my body.
He buries his face in my neck and one of his hands gets lost in my hair and the other is looped around me so tightly, his fingers curve over my rib cage.
I never stood a chance against him.
He pulls back after I do, and his forehead is on mine. My hands are in his hair and the tip of his nose bumps mine, his oxygen transferring into my lungs between our parted lips.
At first, it’s a brush over his lips. A graze. A light touch. A whisper of a kiss.
“Those things,” I whisper, “the things you’ve been doing, mean something to me, Christian. All of it. Thank you.”
“I’m trying,” he rasps.
“I know,” I say. “I see it. I seeyou.And you live here now.”
His eyes soften and his body releases all tension. My fingerscurl into his hair just a bit tighter and I pull him closer. “Kiss me, Christian.”
“Lana—”
“Kiss me like you’ve got something to prove, Christian.”
There’s a faint growl a half a second before his lips are moving against mine, fitting perfectly and finding the perfect rhythm. His tongue grazes mine and I relinquish all control to him.
I would have never been able to stop loving him, even if I tried. But, I barely tried at all. The truth is, there will never be a moment of my life where I will not love him.
Pulling and pushing, our teeth and tongues clash, and we stumble back. I giggle and he catches me, smiling against my lips before it fades once again into the unbridled passion. This time, when we stumble again, I catch myself on one of the shelves and I fall in love with him all over again.
“I could fuck you against this book case,” I mumble against his lips.
Christian laughs softly, turning so I’m the one pressed against the shelves. “Don’t give me any ideas, baby.”
I moan into his mouth and tug at his hair, my leg hitching up at his hip before he lifts me, both legs around his waist, and presses his hips into mine. I arch, whimpering from both pleasure and lack of it.
“Next time,” I moan, rolling my hips.
“Fuck, Lana,” he growls against my lips, and I missed those. Ilovethose.
