Dillon is an amazing kisser, and I could do this all day.
“Wait.” He rips his lips from mine a few minutes later, and I instantly miss his mouth. He scoops some ice cream onto his spoon and shovels it between his lips, winking.
Catching on, I grin as I lean down and kiss him. He slides some of the ice cream into my mouth, and I moan against his lips, grinding my hips against his when I feel his erection nudging me.
We finish the rest of our ice cream like this, and by the time we’re done, I’m hotter than lava, and my body is aching to be filled by him. Dillon clearly feels similar things as he flips me over on my back, so I’m underneath him, and then he proceeds to kiss the shit out of me. Closing my eyes, I lose myself in his kisses, reveling in the blissful sensations flowing through my body. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on just from kissing.
My back arches off the couch when he presses his long hard body down on top of me, careful not to crush me with his weight. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, and I thrust up against him, groaning at the hardness pushing against my soft center. We grind against one another as our kisses grow more demanding, and I’m seconds away from ripping my clothes off and jumping on his cock when he pulls back. “Fuck, Viv.” Rocking back on his heels, he claws his hands through his hair as his chest heaves.
My pajama top is stuck to my back, and my panties are soaked, dripping with desire for this man. I have never wanted anyone as much as I want him in this moment, but I’m glad he stopped it. I don’t want to move too fast. This morning proves my emotions are still out of whack, and I need to put the brakes on. I don’t want to sleep with him and subsequently fall apart. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
Dillon extends his hand, pulling me up into his arms. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my ear soothes me, and I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “You make it so hard to resist you, but I’m determined to do this the right way,” he whispers in my ear.
“At least one of us has self-control.” My words are muffled against his chest.
“God fucking help us if we’re relying on mine.” Sarcasm is thick in his tone, and I giggle. “Come on.” He repositions us on the couch until we’re comfortable. He’s sitting, and I’m lying down on my side with my head on a cushion on his lap. “Let’s just watch this bloody movie. I might as well get it over and done with.”
46
“They are so adorable,” Ash says, regaling Cat with details of my and Dillon’s escapades this week. “Seeing Dil like this makes me so unbelievably happy. Who knew he was such a closet romantic?”
Ash came back Sunday night to discover us curled against one another on the couch while Bohemian Rhapsody played on the TV. Remnants of the chicken pasta dinner Dillon cooked were left in the kitchen, along with the empty ice cream carton and wine bottle.
“Your brother is very romantic,” I agree with the biggest smile on my face.
We’ve been pretty much inseparable since Sunday except for during the day when I have school and Dillon is doing whatever aspiring rock-stars-slash-songwriters do. He showed up outside Trinity on Monday, holding a bunch of lilies and asking me to dinner. Tuesday, he took me to this little boutique movie theater to see Breakfast at Tiffany’s. On Wednesday, we worked out together in the gym in my building before he and Ash cooked their mom’s special chicken curry. Then last night, we took off on his motorcycle for Trim Castle, a historical three-storied keep that was featured in the Braveheart movie.
I’m learning Dillon is fascinated with the past, and he appears to have a huge knowledge of Irish history. He told me he’d considered studying history at Trinity, but he hates being cooped up indoors, and he doesn’t think the structure would suit him, so he chose not to go to college and to focus on the band instead.
The more layers I’m uncovering, the more I’m intrigued. He is nothing like I first expected him to be and everything I never saw coming. While he is different from the prickly, rude guy I initially met, he still has little moments where that brash, obnoxious side of his personality rears its head.
I haven’t had any other meltdowns since Sunday, but I know that’s partly because I’m busy, and when I’m with Dillon, there is no room to think about Reeve or the confusing emotions still swirling around my brain when I’m not quick enough to shut them out.
“Aoife looks like she wants to gouge your eyeballs out with toothpicks,” Cat murmurs, bringing me back to the present. I look in Aoife’s direction, and sure enough, she’s glaring at me with unconcealed venom. When Dillon was here earlier, she was all smiles and sweetness, but the second the guys moved to the main event room, she stabbed me with the full extent of her jealousy. During the guys’ set, we stayed well clear of her, and I’ll be grateful when Dillon reappears as her clear resentment has me on edge.