Worth The Wait

Seven

CHAPTER 7

Lara didn’t answer immediately and just stared at him.

So Reagan leaned forward, resting his chin gently on her knees, his arms draping around her waist. “Please don’t stay mad at me. I missed you like hell, and all I wanted was to know if I still had a place in your heart.”

“You do,” she said softly.

He glanced up, a flicker of hope brightening his gaze. “Yeah?”

She didn’t say anything, but her hand reached down, brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Her fingers lingered, combing gently through his hair.

“Let me make it up to you,” Reagan said, his voice low and earnest. “Let me be your idiot... your headache... your safe place. All of it.”

Lara rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you.”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, giving his forehead a playful push. “You’re so cheesy.”

“But effective,” he said, grinning up at her.

She sighed again, softer this time. “Fine. I forgive you. But swear to me you’ll never do anything like that again. Because if you do, I’ll get mad. For real. And trust me, you won’t like it.”

She narrowed her eyes just slightly for emphasis, only to see Reagan bite his lower lip, eyes darkened slightly as they lingered on her face.

“What?” she asked, rasing a brow at him.

Reagan’s grin widened slowly. “Nothing,” he said, voice low and smooth. “You just look insanely hot when you’re serious.”

Lara blinked. For a second, she was stunned speechless before groaning and swatting his arm. “You’re unbelievable.”

He chuckled, then slowly pushed himself up from the floor. One hand braced on the table as he leaned forward, his face hovered close, eyes locked on hers.

“Lara,” he said, voice gentler now, more serious. “I want to know where we really stand.”

She looked up at him, heart thudding.

“What are we now?” he asked.

The air felt heavy. Electric. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to steady herself under the weight of his stare.

“Do you love me?”

Her breath caught. Her fingers curled slightly against her palm.

And then she whispered, breathless but certain, “I do... I love you, Reagan.”

A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. His hand reached up again, gently brushing his thumb along her cheek.

“So... does that mean we’re official now?”

Lara hesitated—not out of doubt, but because she had planned it differently. She had imagined telling him back in the Philippines, maybe after a cozy dinner or while walking under the stars. She had planned a perfect moment.

But now, with Reagan standing before her, his warmth surrounding her, his words sincere, and the vulnerability in his eyes… she realized she couldn’t ask for a more perfect moment than this.

“Yes,” she breathed.

The moment the word left her lips, Reagan didn’t waste a second. He closed the distance in a heartbeat and captured her mouth with his.

Lara melted into him with a soft gasp, her hands curling around his arms, her body instantly responding to the feel of him, the warmth of his lips, the hunger he no longer bothered to hide. Their mouths moved together in a rhythm that felt both brand new and deeply familiar.

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth in a rhythm that stole her breath. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands sliding up his chest, over the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling the heat and strength of the man beneath.

Before she even realized what was happening, he had lifted her without breaking the kiss, his strong hands firm on her thighs. She let out a quiet gasp into his mouth as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her body pressing flush against his. He walked them backward and sat on the chair, settling her onto his lap like she belonged there. Lara straddled him without hesitation, her fingers tangling into his hair.

Reagan’s hands gripped her hips, then trailed upward, fingers roaming over her bare back, the contact searing through her skin like fire. The open-back dress she wore offered him no resistance, and he took full advantage of it, tracing slow, sensual circles along her spine as their mouths collided again and again, breath hitching, hearts pounding.

The kiss grew wilder, more urgent.

She tugged at his hair, earning a low groan from him, and his grip tightened. One hand slid to the nape of her neck, the other trailing down to squeeze her thigh as he rocked her gently against him. Lara could feel the heat growing between them, sharp and undeniable, pooled low in her belly. Her skin prickled under his touch, her body instinctively moving with his—each motion stirring something deeper, more primal inside her.

Reagan’s lips broke from hers, trailing across her cheek and down to her jawline, featherlight kisses turning into open-mouthed ones that scorched her skin. Then lower, down her neck where he sucked, licked, and bit softly, drawing a trembling gasp from her.

“Reagan,” she whispered, breathless, eyes fluttering shut as her head fell back. “T-The food’s going to get cold…”

“Don’t care,” he murmured, his voice low and rough against her skin.

He pressed another kiss just below her ear, then grazed her earlobe between his teeth, drawing a low whimper from her.

“You taste better.”

Her breath hitched.

God.

Her fingers clutched at the collar of his shirt, and she tilted her head to give him more access, giving in to the pull between them. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as his lips dragged lower, then back up again, mapping her neck like a man learning his favorite place.

His hands slipped beneath her dress, warm palms gliding along her thighs, slow and teasing. He pushed the fabric higher as he moved, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. When he gripped her waist, her breath hitched. His hands tightened slightly, guiding her hips to press harder against him, and she gasped at the contact.

Her already damp core pressed into his arousal through the thin barrier of his sweatpants. She could feel just how much he wanted her. She couldn’t help but rolled her hips against his hardness, earning a soft groan from him. They moved together in a slow, sensual rhythm, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

His lips found hers again, and this time he kissed her harder. Desperately. As if the air between them had thinned and kissing her was the only way he could breathe. He groaned into her mouth, hands sliding up her sides, thumbs brushing just beneath the curve of her breasts.

It was fire.

All of it—his touch, his taste, the tension that had been simmering for months between them. Every brush of skin felt amplified, every moan, every gasp a tether pulling her closer.

Then Reagan’s lips returned to the curve of her neck. He sucked harder this time, longer, and Lara felt the sharp bite of pleasure that made her hips jerk forward.

“Reagan!” she cried out, swatting his shoulder, half-scolding, half-dazed.

He pulled back with a smug grin, clearly proud of himself.

“That’s my seal,” he said, brushing his thumb over the red mark blooming on her skin. “Now there’s no confusion. You’re mine.”

Her heart skipped.

She stared at him, flushed and breathless, then dropped her forehead against his shoulder, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, still catching her breath, her lips brushing the warm skin of his neck.

Reagan chuckled, a deep, pleased sound that rumbled through his chest.

“But yours,” he whispered, his tone gentler now.

He wrapped his arms securely around her, his lips brushing against her temple as he pressed a lingering kiss there.

“And now… officially yours.”