Only Him
Page 18
“Not gonna lie, that sounds a little strange to me, but you do you.”
I clucked my tongue. “Dallas, have you been neglecting your chakras?”
“Safe to say I have.”
“They’re probably a mess. I should teach you how to clear them.”
“Thanks for the offer, but we’re focused on you, remember? What can I do to make you feel better?”
Sighing, I put my head on his chest again. “I don’t know. I actually thought just being with you would help.”
“With me? Why?”
“Okay, this might sound sort of strange too, but I believe dreams deliver powerful messages from the universe to our subconscious mind. When you showed up yesterday, I thought maybe the dream had been a warning.”
“Am I the snake? That’s kind of badass.”
“Hey!” I slapped him lightly on the chest. “That snake is seriously messing with my mental and physical well-being. It’s not a good thing.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He squeezed me. “Go on. What did you think it had to do with me?”
“I thought maybe …” I focused on my fingertips against his skin. “It was about getting closure on my relationship with you. To be honest, that was really the only thing in my life I had unresolved feelings about. I’ve been having the nightmare for a few weeks now, and then you showed up out of nowhere, and in my head, the message was clear: this is the opportunity for resolution. So when you asked me to dinner, I said yes.”
“Wait a minute. That’s the only reason you said yes? For closure? I’m a little offended you weren’t thinking about my good looks and sparkling personality, Maren. I feel used.”
“Okay, it was a little bit about those things. You’re still sort of charming, and you do have a cute butt. But mostly it was about me.”
“Sort of charming?” He flipped me onto my back, pinning my wrists to the mattress above my head.
I giggled. “Didn’t you hear the part about your cute butt?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “It is pretty cute.”
“And I like other parts of you, too.”
One eyebrow cocked up. “Oh yeah? Which ones?”
My entire body tingled as he lowered his mouth to my neck. “Give me my hands back, and I’ll show you.”
“I don’t think so.” He worked his way across my throat, his lips and tongue warm on my skin. “I want to hear you tell me about them.”
“I like your smile and the little chip in your tooth.”
He picked up his head and eyeballed me. “This is not a promising start.” But he lowered it again and kissed a path from the base of my throat down the center of my sternum.
“I like your chin. It has a dimple I always want to kiss.”
Against my thigh I could feel his erection growing harder.
“I like your nose. It’s just the tiniest bit crooked.”
He looked up at me and dragged his scruffy jaw across my chest. “It’s taken a few punches.”
“Did you deserve them?”
“Probably.” He took one nipple between his teeth and flicked it softly with his tongue.
“Mmm.” I arched my back. “I love your mouth. Your lips. Your tongue.”
“Getting warmer.” He worked his way back up my neck and kissed me hard and deep. I opened my knees and he settled his hips between my thighs. Then somehow he shackled both of my wrists with only one of his hands, and reached between us, guiding himself inside me.
I moaned as he slid in deep and reached over my head again. But this time, instead of grabbing my wrists, he locked his fingers with mine, clasping our hands together.
“I love your hands,” I whispered as he began to move, his body undulating slowly and sensually over mine. “And the way you touch me. I love your tattoos, because they tell me pieces of your story. I love your skin, because it smells so damn good. I love being this close to you. I love thinking that we’ve met somewhere before and we’ll meet somewhere again.”
I wanted to go on, but I was losing focus, and my ability to speak was diminishing as the storm inside me grew. It gathered hot and strong at my center, twisting and whirling upward like a cyclone until I was breathless and dangling and frantic to feel our bodies sharing the same erotic pulse. But I managed one last little detail. “And I love your cock,” I whispered as he pushed me even closer to the edge. “Because it makes me come so hard.”
Dallas groaned as his orgasm hit, and I came the moment I felt him throbbing inside me, my body on fire, the world around us melting away. I never wanted the feeling to end.
Somewhere inside my head, I began to wonder why it had to.
This was good. We were good together—better than good. I knew he felt it, too. Why was he so against giving us another chance? Why did it have to end when he left? He hadn’t really given me a good reason. He’d just said, I can’t. And I’d backed down—it wasn’t really in my nature to push people, and he must have his reasons.
But what were they?
He let go of my hands so he could prop himself up, lifting his weight from my chest. “That was a good list.”
I smiled. “Do you feel better about yourself?”
“Much.”
“Good. Hey, what time is it?”
He glanced at the clock next to the bed. “Going on two.”
“Can I get up for a minute?”
“No. I like you right here where you are.”
“I have to take my pill.”
He rolled off me immediately. “Up you go, cupcake.”
“That’s what I thought.” Laughing, I grabbed my purse from the floor and went into the bathroom, shutting the door and snapping on the light. Items of clothing—all his, except for my shoes—were still scattered on the floor. I set my bag on the vanity, next to where my underthings were drying on a hand towel, and cleaned myself up. Afterward, I took a pill from the packet in my purse and swallowed it with some water.
I checked myself out in the mirror, taking in my damp, messy hair, smudged mascara, and a faint rash around my mouth. What the hell was that? I leaned closer, touching it with my fingertips. Then I smiled—it was from Dallas’s scruff rubbing against my sensitive skin. I looked down at my body and noticed it on my chest, stomach, and inner thighs too. Grinning, I splashed some cold water on my face. I’d forgotten how aggressive Dallas could be. How hot-blooded. It was sexy as hell.
But he was playful too. And generous. And sweet. I still couldn’t get over what he’d planned for me tonight. A guy who would go to all that trouble was a romantic at heart. Combine all that with the package it came in, and any woman would swoon. It was seriously amazing that he was still single.
Then it hit me—maybe he wasn’t.
Maybe the real reason why I couldn’t come visit him was that he had a girlfriend—or even a wife! My God, he could have kids! A wave of nausea struck me, and I swayed forward, bracing my hands on the sink as my face dripped.
Oh, God. Oh, God. I didn’t want to believe it, but it made total sense to me. Total, heartbreaking, stomach-turning sense.
I grabbed a towel and mopped off my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied his travel kit on the vanity. It was olive green twill, unzipped, and two seconds later my hands had seized it. If he was hiding a wedding ring, this would be the place, right?
I felt horrible as I rummaged through it. Criminal. I’d never been the kind of person who snooped in other people’s things or opened their medicine cabinets at parties or eavesdropped on their restaurant conversations. Now here I was with my hands in someone else’s personal business, hunting for a sign that he was scamming me and cheating on someone back home. I was disgusted with myself. But I didn’t stop until I’d taken everything out of that bag—toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, comb, hair product, razor, shaving oil, tweezers, deodorant, lip balm, condoms, ibuprofen, a bottle of prescription pills—and held it upside down, shaking it as if a platinum band might slip from the lining.
When it was obvious there was nothing else in there, I dropped the bag and put my hands on my face. My cheeks were flaming hot. I peeked through my fingers at my reflection, and a deranged naked woman peered back at me.
I clucked my tongue. “Dallas, have you been neglecting your chakras?”
“Safe to say I have.”
“They’re probably a mess. I should teach you how to clear them.”
“Thanks for the offer, but we’re focused on you, remember? What can I do to make you feel better?”
Sighing, I put my head on his chest again. “I don’t know. I actually thought just being with you would help.”
“With me? Why?”
“Okay, this might sound sort of strange too, but I believe dreams deliver powerful messages from the universe to our subconscious mind. When you showed up yesterday, I thought maybe the dream had been a warning.”
“Am I the snake? That’s kind of badass.”
“Hey!” I slapped him lightly on the chest. “That snake is seriously messing with my mental and physical well-being. It’s not a good thing.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He squeezed me. “Go on. What did you think it had to do with me?”
“I thought maybe …” I focused on my fingertips against his skin. “It was about getting closure on my relationship with you. To be honest, that was really the only thing in my life I had unresolved feelings about. I’ve been having the nightmare for a few weeks now, and then you showed up out of nowhere, and in my head, the message was clear: this is the opportunity for resolution. So when you asked me to dinner, I said yes.”
“Wait a minute. That’s the only reason you said yes? For closure? I’m a little offended you weren’t thinking about my good looks and sparkling personality, Maren. I feel used.”
“Okay, it was a little bit about those things. You’re still sort of charming, and you do have a cute butt. But mostly it was about me.”
“Sort of charming?” He flipped me onto my back, pinning my wrists to the mattress above my head.
I giggled. “Didn’t you hear the part about your cute butt?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “It is pretty cute.”
“And I like other parts of you, too.”
One eyebrow cocked up. “Oh yeah? Which ones?”
My entire body tingled as he lowered his mouth to my neck. “Give me my hands back, and I’ll show you.”
“I don’t think so.” He worked his way across my throat, his lips and tongue warm on my skin. “I want to hear you tell me about them.”
“I like your smile and the little chip in your tooth.”
He picked up his head and eyeballed me. “This is not a promising start.” But he lowered it again and kissed a path from the base of my throat down the center of my sternum.
“I like your chin. It has a dimple I always want to kiss.”
Against my thigh I could feel his erection growing harder.
“I like your nose. It’s just the tiniest bit crooked.”
He looked up at me and dragged his scruffy jaw across my chest. “It’s taken a few punches.”
“Did you deserve them?”
“Probably.” He took one nipple between his teeth and flicked it softly with his tongue.
“Mmm.” I arched my back. “I love your mouth. Your lips. Your tongue.”
“Getting warmer.” He worked his way back up my neck and kissed me hard and deep. I opened my knees and he settled his hips between my thighs. Then somehow he shackled both of my wrists with only one of his hands, and reached between us, guiding himself inside me.
I moaned as he slid in deep and reached over my head again. But this time, instead of grabbing my wrists, he locked his fingers with mine, clasping our hands together.
“I love your hands,” I whispered as he began to move, his body undulating slowly and sensually over mine. “And the way you touch me. I love your tattoos, because they tell me pieces of your story. I love your skin, because it smells so damn good. I love being this close to you. I love thinking that we’ve met somewhere before and we’ll meet somewhere again.”
I wanted to go on, but I was losing focus, and my ability to speak was diminishing as the storm inside me grew. It gathered hot and strong at my center, twisting and whirling upward like a cyclone until I was breathless and dangling and frantic to feel our bodies sharing the same erotic pulse. But I managed one last little detail. “And I love your cock,” I whispered as he pushed me even closer to the edge. “Because it makes me come so hard.”
Dallas groaned as his orgasm hit, and I came the moment I felt him throbbing inside me, my body on fire, the world around us melting away. I never wanted the feeling to end.
Somewhere inside my head, I began to wonder why it had to.
This was good. We were good together—better than good. I knew he felt it, too. Why was he so against giving us another chance? Why did it have to end when he left? He hadn’t really given me a good reason. He’d just said, I can’t. And I’d backed down—it wasn’t really in my nature to push people, and he must have his reasons.
But what were they?
He let go of my hands so he could prop himself up, lifting his weight from my chest. “That was a good list.”
I smiled. “Do you feel better about yourself?”
“Much.”
“Good. Hey, what time is it?”
He glanced at the clock next to the bed. “Going on two.”
“Can I get up for a minute?”
“No. I like you right here where you are.”
“I have to take my pill.”
He rolled off me immediately. “Up you go, cupcake.”
“That’s what I thought.” Laughing, I grabbed my purse from the floor and went into the bathroom, shutting the door and snapping on the light. Items of clothing—all his, except for my shoes—were still scattered on the floor. I set my bag on the vanity, next to where my underthings were drying on a hand towel, and cleaned myself up. Afterward, I took a pill from the packet in my purse and swallowed it with some water.
I checked myself out in the mirror, taking in my damp, messy hair, smudged mascara, and a faint rash around my mouth. What the hell was that? I leaned closer, touching it with my fingertips. Then I smiled—it was from Dallas’s scruff rubbing against my sensitive skin. I looked down at my body and noticed it on my chest, stomach, and inner thighs too. Grinning, I splashed some cold water on my face. I’d forgotten how aggressive Dallas could be. How hot-blooded. It was sexy as hell.
But he was playful too. And generous. And sweet. I still couldn’t get over what he’d planned for me tonight. A guy who would go to all that trouble was a romantic at heart. Combine all that with the package it came in, and any woman would swoon. It was seriously amazing that he was still single.
Then it hit me—maybe he wasn’t.
Maybe the real reason why I couldn’t come visit him was that he had a girlfriend—or even a wife! My God, he could have kids! A wave of nausea struck me, and I swayed forward, bracing my hands on the sink as my face dripped.
Oh, God. Oh, God. I didn’t want to believe it, but it made total sense to me. Total, heartbreaking, stomach-turning sense.
I grabbed a towel and mopped off my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied his travel kit on the vanity. It was olive green twill, unzipped, and two seconds later my hands had seized it. If he was hiding a wedding ring, this would be the place, right?
I felt horrible as I rummaged through it. Criminal. I’d never been the kind of person who snooped in other people’s things or opened their medicine cabinets at parties or eavesdropped on their restaurant conversations. Now here I was with my hands in someone else’s personal business, hunting for a sign that he was scamming me and cheating on someone back home. I was disgusted with myself. But I didn’t stop until I’d taken everything out of that bag—toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, comb, hair product, razor, shaving oil, tweezers, deodorant, lip balm, condoms, ibuprofen, a bottle of prescription pills—and held it upside down, shaking it as if a platinum band might slip from the lining.
When it was obvious there was nothing else in there, I dropped the bag and put my hands on my face. My cheeks were flaming hot. I peeked through my fingers at my reflection, and a deranged naked woman peered back at me.
