Where the Streets Have No Name(23)
He did himself proud getting her up to her room, cleaning her knee, and getting into his room across the hall without letting his gaze linger too long on the tempting curve of her neck or the swell of her breasts, or the way her thighs rested lazily on her bed. She had the kind of body that made a man go mad with wanting, and enough smarts to scare him away.
If only there was a way to tell his heart not to get so attached…
Sweltering heat one minute. Frigid chills the next. Invisible lumps in his pillow. Daniel could not, for the life of him, find a comfortable position to sleep.
He missed Amelia.
Since the first time she kissed him, Daniel recalled that memory a thousand times an hour. Soft, warm lips, so open and inviting. The hesitant slide of her tongue on the seam of his shocked lips, breaking through years of pent up need made for a moment like nothing he dreamed. Damn, but she made him want everything he wasn’t worthy of.
He missed her though and if it took begging her to let him sleep at the foot of her bed like a dog just to be in the same room as her, then so be it.
Sucking up his pride, Daniel opened his door as quiet as he could, then made his way across the hall. He stood at her door for an eternity, hand raised, fisted, making a list of pros and cons in his head, wondering if he should knock or not.
The door swung open.
Amelia stood there, hair wild, pajamas rumpled. Her eyes shot wide, seeing him on the other side of the door.
“Erm,” Daniel whispered.
What should he say?
“I can’t sleep,” she offered.
He sighed his relief. “Me either.”
“Can we go to your room and watch TV then? I might be able to get some rest with the company.”
He swallowed.
Then nodded.
“Aye, yeah, if…if that’s what you’re wanting.”
“It is.” Her gaze didn’t falter.
Hours passed in a second. “Right then.” He stepped aside, holding out an arm to help her.
Amelia smiled and took his hand, pulling him across the hall with her. For a little sprite of a thing she had one hell of a presence.
Daniel sat on the same side of the bed he slept in during the previous nights. Amelia climbed in next to him, pulling the duvet around her waist. Tonight she wore a cotton short-sleeved top, the stretchy fabric hugging her breasts like a second skin. Temperatures in the small space soared.
Her scent assaulted him; fresh flowers mixed with subtle hints of the beach. She smelled like freedom and sweetness and everything he didn’t deserve. He couldn’t get over the sultry dark-haired lass and her insecurities. She looked like a model for those expensive underthings and she didn’t see it herself.
Oh lord, that was the worst image he ever put in his own head; Amelia in a sexy set of panties and a bra, with her ample cleavage spilling over the tops of the cups. She’d have miles of that creamy pale skin, so soft beneath his fingertips.
“Daniel?”
He jolted, dragging the duvet over his lap. “Hmm?”
“What do you dream of? I mean, what do you want for your future?”
You.
He kept his mouth shut.
“I wish I had a direction,” Amelia continued. “A purpose, you know? I’ve done more than most people can dream of achieving before my twentieth birthday, but what does it mean? What does it matter?”
Daniel hadn’t a blasted clue what the lass was on about. His head filled with thoughts of Amelia wearing tiny scraps of silk and other exotic fabrics. Imagining the sway of her breasts beneath the cups of some lacy bra, wondering what the exact shade of pink her nipples would be…
“Are you okay?”
A wave of frantic need crashed over him. Daniel took Amelia’s arms and dragged her to his chest, claiming her mouth with a single-minded purpose. She straddled his lap, adding sweet, delicious pressure there.
Soft tips of her fingers trace invisible patterns over his jaw, dipping below the edge of his collar, curling over his spine. She made him wild. She made him weak with wanting. She made him whole.
The kiss burned. Made him dizzy with wanting her.
Stiff and unyielding, his erection throbbed under her heat. Unable to stop himself, Daniel thrust against her. Jaysus, but he could come like this.
“Daniel,” she said, her voice shaky.
“Aye love?” He kissed a path down her throat.
“I…I’ve never…” Amelia tensed when his hands stopped at the undersides of her breasts.
She couldn’t be. Impossible.
Daniel pulled back, searching her Irish Sea blue eyes. He saw unease and innocence shining back at him. A myriad of uncertainty and lust combined. Jaysus, but she was.
“I’m sorry, lass,” he began.
“It’s fine. I mean, I don’t have…the gynecologist broke…I mean…”