27. Lark

Chapter twenty-seven

Lark

Blinking my eyes open slowly, I become aware of the heavy weight of Dan’s arm over my waist, his hand cupped lovingly over my breast. I can feel his breath, slow and even against my neck, and the solid point of his cock nudging against me between my legs.

The man is insatiable. After the fumbles of our first time, he rallied impressively, bringing me no less than five orgasms.

How he got so talented with his tongue with zero experience, I do not know. Maybe he’s just a quick learner, or maybe he takes direction well, or maybe Dan Montgomery is simply the perfect man for me.

Whatever it is, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy, this satisfied, or this deliciously sore in all the right places.

I shift slowly, trying not to wake him. At least one of us should get some sleep after how busy we were last night.

Last night…when I was supposed to marry Baron but spent it in bed with Dan instead. Today being New Year’s Day feels especially poignant. It’s the start of a new day, a new year, and a new life for me. Guess Michael Bublé was right. Because I am definitely feeling good .

“Mmm. Why are you awake?” Dan grumbles into my hair, and I feel him nuzzle in closer. He’s so affectionate, and I freaking love how he can’t seem to get enough of touching me, always wanting to be as close as possible.

Maybe other people would feel smothered, but not me. After a lifetime of chasing affection and constantly being denied, I’m loving every second of it.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to sleep when I’m being poked in the behind,” I tease, pushing my butt back slightly, nudging him.

Of course, all Dan does is squeeze my breast before moving that hand down to my hip and thrusting against me a few times.

“Not my fault. I can’t control what my body does when I’m asleep.”

“Uh-huh, sure. That’s a great argument.” I roll over to face him. “For the record, I’m not complaining. Waking up in your arms is no hardship.”

His sleepy smile is just too freaking cute.

“But I need coffee.” To punctuate my statement, I yawn, covering my mouth and turning my head to save him from morning breath.

“I got it.” With a surprising display of energy for a man who was just asleep, Dan throws off the blankets and hops out of bed. I watch him unabashedly as he struts bare-ass naked into the bathroom. He emerges a few minutes later, still naked, only to swipe up his boxers from the floor, this pair covered in Santa hats.

“Christmas is over, you know,” I call out as he walks from the room, unable to resist another tease .

He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But as I’m sitting up, the Santa hat boxers come flying through the doorway, and I burst out laughing.

I go to his closet and pull down an old Tridents T-shirt that looks soft and well-loved. Pulling it over my head, it barely covers my ass, but I was right. It smells like him and is extremely soft. Padding out of the bedroom, I find Dan in the kitchen, once again naked.

This time, he’s shaking his ass and humming under his breath, something that sounds like “Jingle Bell Rock” but not quite in tune.

I walk up behind him and grab both of his butt cheeks in my hands, squeezing them.

“Hands off woman, or no coffee for you,” he admonishes, pushing me away.

I back off, laughing. “Hey, you can’t parade that naked baseball booty around and not expect me to grab it. That’s just mean.”

He looks over his shoulder at me with a wicked smirk. “I knew you liked my ass.”

“Of course, I do. Have you seen your ass?”

He pretends to dust off his shoulders. “I mean, I do spend a lot of time squatting.”

Turning back to the coffee machine, he pours two mugs before turning and setting them on the counter next to me. Completely nonchalant, as if his nudity is perfectly normal, he moves to the fridge and pulls out two creamers. One vanilla for me, and one…

“Is that sugar cookie creamer?” I ask, partly fascinated and partly disgusted.

Dan pours a liberal amount into his mug and nods. “Hell, yeah. Yami convinced me to try it, and it’s delicious.” He passes it to me, and I take a tentative sip.

My eyes widen. “Woah.” He holds out his hand for his coffee, but I turn and pull it into my chest. “No. Mine.”

He just chuckles and gives me a wink as he doctors up the other cup the same way before putting both creamers away.

I take another sip of the sweetened coffee and close my eyes with a contented hum. “That’s so good.”

“I’ll stock up for us before they stop selling it.”

Us.

We’re an us . I love that.

My eyes flutter open to see him staring at me so intently, his eyes so full of love, I’m not sure how I missed it for so long.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve dreamed of this. Of mornings spent with you wearing my clothes, drinking my coffee. It’s perfect.”

I set my mug down and step forward, sliding my hands up and around his neck. He meets me half way for a kiss, and I can taste the coffee creamer on him. I hear him set his cup down as well, and then his hands are on my ass and I’m lifted in the air. He starts to walk away, and I make a sound of protest.

“No, my coffee!”

Dan shakes his head, his stare intense, almost feral with desire. “Coffee later. I need to fuck you right now while you’re wearing my shirt.”

Well. Okay, then.

We spend the day being lazy. But when evening approaches and I start to feel antsy, I drag Dan out of his apartment for a walk. It gets cut short once we realize how many people are out for possibly the same reason.

After barely half an hour, we turn around and head swiftly back to his building.

“That was too people-y,” he says, leaning back against the elevator wall dramatically. “I don’t want to deal with people today.”

I giggle. “Aren’t I people? Are you saying you don’t want to deal with me?”

“Oh, I’ll deal with you. Don’t you worry.” He gives me a smirk.

I respond by stepping in close and sliding my cold hands under his sweater. He gasps in shock. “Damn it woman, warn a guy, would ya?”

“Nah, this is more fun.”

He groans but covers my hands with his over the top of his sweater. “You’re lucky I love you, Birdie.”

He might be meaning it in a teasing way right now, but those words make me melt. “Yeah, I am.”

His smile softens into something sweeter, and he presses a gentle kiss to my lips. The elevator opens and we step out. I slide my hands from under his sweater and lace our fingers together instead. We walk in silence to his apartment, and Dan holds the door open for me.

“So. Bubble bath, then dinner? ”

“Sounds lovely.” I smile, hanging our coats up. “But after dinner, I want you to show me your telescope.”

He lifts his hand, squeezing the back of his neck. “You really want to?”

I nod. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me about it before last night.” His fascination with space was something I knew, but the fact that he has a telescope? I didn’t know until now. And I’m ridiculously excited to view what he sees when he looks into the night sky.

“We’ll have to drive a bit to get away from the city lights.”

“Then let’s skip the bath and eat quickly. I want to see the stars.”

“Oh, I’ll show you stars,” he mockingly growls, dropping his hand and strutting over to me. “All the stars, baby.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh God, no. You are definitely not cut out for slimy flirting. Please, just stop.”

“I thought that was a good line.” He pouts, but it quickly turns into a grin.

I pat his arm, shaking my head. “Not even a little.”

“Fine.” He huffs, turning to open the fridge. “Okay, dinner options. We’ve got leftover Thai from last night, or I can whip up some chicken and pasta.”

“Leftovers are fine.”

We move around each other in an easy silence, getting down plates, reheating food, and eating as if we’ve shared a thousand meals before. And I suppose, in a way, we have. When we were just friends we would eat together. But it’s so much more now. We are so much more.

And later, when we reach the lookout high up on one of the local mountains, Dan cements his place in my heart.

“What am I looking at?” I ask, peering through the eyepiece of the telescope. He spent forever getting it lined up on something in particular but wouldn’t tell me what it was.

He clears his throat, and I glance up at him. “That’s, ah, that’s my star.”

“What do you mean, your star?” I ask. He looks up at the sky, then back at me, a soft smile on his face.

“You can buy and name your own star. I bought that one two years ago.”

“What did you name it?”

His eyes move down to the ground, and he shifts from side to side as if he’s nervous.

“Um.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Dan?”

“I named it Birdie.” He says it so quietly, at first, I think I heard wrong. Then he lifts his head, and I see the truth shining in his eyes.

“Birdie, because I bought it for you.”