In her space, I kept my pants on. In mine, they came off. If I wasn’t going to sleep, I was going to stroke my cock to the thoughts of Lucy sleeping in her silk nightie down the hall before spilling into the spare pillowcase I’ve been keeping stashed under my pile of pillows.
Fuck. I’m thirty years old. A healthy man who’s been celibate for longer than I care to admit. Of course I masturbate. If I didn’t jerk off, I’d probably have a lot more bodies under my belt. But, since bringing Lucy to the penthouse, it seems like it’sallI’ve been doing, and I’d rather take a dive out the window myself than let her find my come rag.
Pulling my sheet up and over my cock with one hand, I reach behind me with the other, shoving the soiled pillowcase as far back as I can. I try to go slow so that she doesn’t hear the sound of my movement, but in my slight panic, I hit my knuckle against the headboard.
She gasps, a simple breath before she whispers, “Dallas? Are you up?”
The sleep-roughened voice goes straight to my cock so… yeah. I’m up. In more ways than fucking one, too.
I sit up slowly, peering through the darkness to find her. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”
“I need you.”
My cock twitches. I want to bat at the thing, telling my body to control itself before her eyes adjust and she looks at my bed, only to find me tenting the goddamn sheet.
That’s not what she means, I tell my dick. While I need her more than I need the sun to rise or to know that Jack is rotting in hell, Lucy is vulnerable and lost and definitely not slipping into my room after midnight because she’s decided that a good fucking might help her remember?—
“I had a dream and…” She shudders out a shaky breath this time. “Ineedyou.”
“Anything, baby. Whatever you need. Hang on.” I lean over the edge of the bed, patting the floor, searching for my discarded jeans. “Let me find my pants and I’ll be right there.”
Her breath hitches. “Are you… Dallas… are younaked?”
I freeze. “Shit. Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t think you’d come here… you were sleeping.”
“I was,” she agrees. “But then I had a dream.” Her head dips, the pale strands of her short blonde hair falling forward. “At first, it was a nightmare. But then… you and I… we were…”
My heart thumps. My cock decides it’s time to ignore my brain, going from half-mast to fully erect in the time it takes for me to run through all of the erotic dreams I’ve had about Lucy since she left me.
She stops talking.
“Luce?” My voice is rough. Too rough. Ain’t shit I can do about it except pretend like I’m not suddenly so turned-on, itaches. Lucy comes first. She always did, and now that she’s back, she always will. “You okay?”
In answer, she steps toward the bed. I already knew she was wearing the slinky red nightie from earlier tonight when I checked on her. As she comes closer, I get a better view as the fabric flows over her body. She doesn’t wear a bra to sleep. Unless I’m imagining it, I see her nipples poking through the silk, the material draped over her tits, her hips, her ass. It just covers her pussy, hitting the tops of her thighs, and I have to wonder: does she have panties on?
“Should I go?” Her voice through the darkness is a rasp that plucks every fucking nerve in my body. “Or can I…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t have to. When her knees bump up against the edge of the bed, I instinctively know what she wants and, holy shit, I want it, too. My bare legs rustle as I move over. Not because my bed isn’t big enough for both of us, but because I want her to know that I’m making space for her if she chooses to take it.
She does. Taking my silence as permission, she slides in beside me without asking again before turning on her side so that she can look at me propped up on my elbows.
The sheet is covering most of my lower half, but my bare chest is on display. For a moment, she ghosts her fingers over one of my abs before she presses her palm over my heart.
It was already thudding nervously. Now it kicks it up a gear, and I bet she can feel it. She doesn’t give it away if she does, though, as she lays her hand flat against my chest.
I shudder at her touch. This… this is my Lucy. MyDandelion.From the first time we met, she’s been entranced by my chest. It caught her attention that summer day out by the dandelion fountain, and five years later, with the memories of our time together gone, she is drawn to it now.
Her fingers drag slowly down my sternum like she’s reacquainting herself with a map she once knew by heart. Arching my back, I lean into her caress so that there isn’t a moment when she isn’t touching me.
The bed shifts as Lucy leans over me.
“I need you,” she whispers against the shell of my ear before she slips her foot under the sheet, stroking the edge of my bare calf, giving her proof that Iamas naked as she suspected.
Every muscle in my body goes rigid as I finally hear the pleading in the way she says ‘need’ like that. I’d hurriedly told myself that there was no way that that’s what she meant before—that she wanted me to fuck her brain right—but as her breath warms my skin and her touch makes me feel like I’m on fire, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what my sweet Lucy means.
I want to. God, I want to more than anything, but it’s bad enough that I’m lying to her every time I call her my wife. To put her body under mine, fucking her until her pussy can’t remember a time when there was ever anyone else… I want to, but Ican’t.
“It’s too soon,” I tell her, even as I go on my side, facing her, searching for something in her face that I hope I can find. “We don’t have to?—”
