Page 60 of Lonely Heart

If I had knownthat so many years of loneliness would ultimately lead me to this moment, I might not have been upset for so long.

Because everything I used to feel, all the emotions that came along with that sense of isolation, were now a distant memory.

They’d been replaced by this—flutters in my belly, weak knees, and quick breaths.

For longer than I cared to admit, I’d carried around a cold heaviness and longing that got so overwhelming, my body ached from it. But now, there was heat and warmth and pleasure in my body like I’d never experienced before.

I didn’t have to pretend I was happy. I didn’t have to fake feeling alive inside.

I was here at my place, Marco was with me, and every touch of his lips against mine was waking new sensations.

I was glad I was the kind of woman who always went after what she wanted. Though I hadn’t anticipated I would have gone after Marco like this, wouldn’t have threatened to strip in front of the open door for him, I couldn’t say I was disappointed with where my boldness had gotten me.

He’d been wavering, unsure. I’d seen the look in his eyes. Marco wanted me as much as I wanted him, and he’d been doing his best all night to keep himself restrained. I was surprised he’d actually kissed me at my front door when I’d demanded it.

So, I did what I needed to do to push him, to make sure he knew I didn’t need to go slow. I’d known him for more than half my life. Even if we were just now taking these steps to get to know each other more intimately, I didn’t worry about what kind of man I was inviting into my bed. Marco was as good as they got. It was just a shame it had taken so long for me to see it.

Fortunately, it didn’t take much to convince him to come inside. Just my coat at my feet and a few words of encouragement.

We’d been kissing since about ten seconds after the door had been closed and locked, and neither one of us dared to pull away. What it seemed we were both intent on doing was getting closer to one another and allowing our hands to roam.

Almost immediately, I pushed Marco’s jacket down his arms. Once it was gone, his hands were back on my body, one arm wrapped around my waist and holding me close, the other tangled in my hair.

My heart was pounding, my mind consumed with thoughts of Marco. I wanted to know everything—what he looked like with nothing on, how he moved his body, and the way he tasted. I wanted all of it.

So, I begrudgingly tore my mouth from his, looked up at him, and couldn’t miss the way his eyes were smoldering. He was just as caught up, just as lost in this, as I was. Without a word, feeling the ache between my legs growing stronger, I licked my lips, took him by the hand, and led him away from the front door and toward my bedroom after he’d toed off his shoes.

Once there, I didn’t wait.

I went after his shirt, gripping the hem in my fingers and sliding it up his torso. When he stood before me wearing just his pants, my mouth watered.

I’d seen Marco without a shirt plenty of times before, whether swimming at my parents’ house or playing a game—Frisbee, football, or otherwise—at my grandparents’ lake house with my brothers. And while I wasn’t oblivious to him having a great body, seeing it then never affected me the way it did now.

My fingertips gently brushed over his heated skin, the muscles in his abdomen twitching beneath my touch. My gaze drifted up his torso and met his. The look in his eyes made me dizzy. I’d never seen him looking so tense, so close to losing control. And it was all about hunger, about his desire to have me and touch me the way I was touching him.

I wanted that just as much as he did.

With my belly still trembling, I turned around and asked, “Will you help me out of my dress?”

Marco didn’t delay. He gathered my hair in his hands, draped it over the front of one shoulder, and brought his hands to the zipper. My senses were so heightened, I swore I could hear each of the teeth on the zipper separating. And it was happening so slowly as Marco took his time.

After he made it to the bottom, he brushed his fingers lightly against the skin on my back, allowing them to drift back up toward my shoulders. His touch was so soft and tender, it sent shivers through me.

I pressed my thighs together, seeking friction to relieve the ache that continued to build. Marco made it to my shoulders, urged me to turn around to face him, and slowly peeled the dress down my body.

When it pooled at my feet and his eyes roamed, I was confident he’d had a similar thought as I had earlier. He’d seenme in a bikini plenty of times, but it didn’t compare to this, not when we felt the sparks flying between us.

His eyes locked on mine. “You are so beautiful, Ivy. I don’t know how I didn’t appreciate it years ago.”

My head dropped to one side and one shoulder shrugged as my mouth quirked. “I’m sure you could find a way to make that up to me now. Don’t you agree?”

His brow furrowed with a look of determination, his jaw set. Then his hands went to his fly to unbutton and unzip his pants. He pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them, the both of us wearing nothing more than our undergarments.

We held each other’s stare for several silent beats, and at almost the exact same time, we pounced. I was hauled up in Marco’s arms, my mouth colliding with his, and he turned as he fell to his back in my bed, my body coming over his.

The two of us remained like that for mere seconds before he flipped us over, and I was on my back.

I barely had enough time to register the weight of him over me before he tore his mouth from mine and began kissing down my body.