Nothing More - Chapter 79

I grab her shoulders and pull her down into my lap. Her hands wrap around my neck and she pulls me closer to kiss her.

Her mouth is softer than my touch, and not for the first time, I’m a fool for her as I trace her tongue with mine.

Chapter Twenty-four

DAKOTA’S HANDS SLIDE FROM MY neck to my arms and she rubs them. Up and down she rubs, staying a few moments extra on my biceps.

I can’t pretend that I’m not proud of my body. Especially after years of hating it. It makes me feel strong and sexy for the first time in my life, and I’m on cloud nine with her hands all over me.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Dakota’s words are something between a cry and a moan, and they speak to me, to the man I am now, not just the boy I was when I met her.

“I’ve missed you more,” I promise her.

Dakota’s brown eyes are nearly closed, so heavily lidded that I can barely make out their color. Except I already know the color; I memorized her eyes long ago. I’ve memorized every single inch of her from the birthmark on her left foot to the shade of her eyes. They’re a soft brown with a flake of honey in the right one. She used to tell the kids at school that the light mark on her face was a scar from some fight she was in at her old school, but it wasn’t true. She always told stories that made her sound as intimidating as possible, since she was nothing of the sort at home.

“I need you, Landon.” Dakota’s voice is a desperate whisper as she kisses me.

Her hands are on my back now, pulling my shirt up. Her mouth traces the nape of my neck and her small hands work to take my shirt off. The floor is cold, but she’s so damn hot and I feel nervous and excited and my mind is racing.

“Help me,” Dakota says, still tugging at my fabric. “I can’t take it off like this,” she says, and licks at my neck.

I move quickly, hating that I have to pull away from her but beyond ready to take off all of my clothes—and hers.

I tug at the fabric and toss the WCU T-shirt across the room . . . only it catches on the lamp and stays there, making the light slightly red.

I’m so damn awkward that I can’t even throw a T-shirt in a sexy way? Really?

I’m hoping she noticed that I wore red, her favorite color on me, and sweats, just like she always loved. I used to find it weird that she liked my lounging-about clothing so much, but given how I feel about her sports bra and yoga pants, I get it.

“Come here,” Dakota says, her voice like candy. Sweet and addicting.

I move back to her and wonder if we should go into my room. Is it weird to be sitting on the living room floor and taking off my clothes?

Dakota answers that question for me. She pulls her shirt over her head and somehow manages to bring her sports bra with it. Between her exposed breasts, her wet lips, and the way she’s looking at me, I may just embarrass myself before we even begin.

I know that look. The one where her eyes are hooded and her mouth is slack. I’ve seen that look so many times, and here it is again.

She’s desire wrapped in sugar and I need to taste her.

I move to her, taking one soft breast in my hand and the other into my mouth. Her nipples are hard pebbles under my tongue, and hell, I’ve missed her body.

She’s moaning now and I’m growing harder by the second. I’ve missed her, I’ve needed her. Dakota is moaning as she pushes her body into me, rising to her knees so I have better access to her. My hand moves from her breast down her stomach, and my fingers find her pussy, soaked and throbbing. I use my index finger to draw small circles over her wetness.

I know how crazy that drives her.

Dakota’s body has always been so responsive to my touch. She’s usually dripping for me, so this comes as no surprise. What does kind of amaze me is that I’m thinking clearly while touching her. With my mouth sucking at her nipples and my finger drawing small circles over her swollen