Very Wicked Things
Page 80
I melted into him and he kissed me heatedly, our mouths clinging.
He pulled back, searching my eyes. “Tell me you feel this too, this new beginning for us.”
“New,” I said softly, running my hands through his hair.
He rubbed my back, his hands sliding over the blue silk, but then he stopped, taking a step back to give me a once-over. “This dress reminds me of my dream. Remember?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to take this hot-as-hell dress off you, and I’m going to kiss you until you moan and beg me for more.”
“Oh? Then what?” I breathed against his lips as he unzipped the back and eased the soft fabric off my shoulders. The dress pooled at my feet.
“Every wicked thing I can think of and then some,” he murmured, his fingers making quick work of my bra. “I have a whole year to make up for not being with you; in you.”
Oh. I panted, my heart going from normal to flat-out crazy. And then I lost my mind when his lips latched on to my nipple. I groaned and clutched him to me, the sensation rocking my world.
“Don’t ever stop,” I whispered, and he muttered something. I have no idea what.
He slipped his hand underneath my panties, his fingers sliding in my heat, stroking, making me moan.
And after that, we moved fast, removing clothes frantically.
The bed seemed the best place, and we would get to it eventually, but at that moment the velvet chair was closer. We used the chair in a way it wasn’t meant to be, and I figured we might have to bring it home with us.
A few minutes later, room service interrupted our love fest, and I giggled uncontrollably behind the bathroom door as a towel-clad Cuba watched the waiter set up my meal. He grinned like a madman the entire time. We were both giddy.
“It killed me to break-up with you last year. To say those mean words,” he said told me again, in-between feeding me bites of filet. We sat on the floor, me wearing his shirt, him wearing his tight as hell underwear, which I couldn’t keep my hands off. It felt like Christmas or a birthday.
I said, “I should have seen the truth sooner. You were so dark. I should have realized—”
He stopped me with his fingers on my mouth. “Grief makes us do crazy things, Dovey. Let it go and focus on us now. And maybe, just maybe, our time apart gave us time to grow up and appreciate each other more. We’ve been through hell together, and we’ve come out on the other side. Older and wiser.”
Yes.
I held a strawberry to his lips and watched his white teeth bite into it. It made me all kinds of flustered.
“So you wanna go gamble later?” he said, a glint in his eyes I didn’t recognize. “Find a wedding chapel?”
I dropped the strawberry. “Is that a proposal? Are you serious?”
He shrugged, a small smile working his face. “Okay, maybe not this trip, but maybe after your ballet audition or maybe after you sell the house. Is that too sudden?”
I blinked.
“Okay, fine, I can wait until you make principal dancer or I finish pre-med. That is if you love me and if you want to spend the rest of —”
Oomph! Food flew as I shoved him down to the ground and rained kisses all over him.
“I love you,” I said as he clutched me to him.
He kissed me. “Forever, Dovey.”
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
–Oscar Wilde
One Year Later
WARM.
I woke up in gradual phases, stirring around, my body searching for his, but he wasn’t there. I tugged my fluffy covers tight around me and rubbed my socked feet together, glad we had heat. January. I loved it. Really.
Beckham House was long gone.
Now, Heather-Lynn, Sarah, and I lived on Ross Street in downtown Dallas, a hipster kind of place with coffee houses, quaint book stores, and specialty boutiques. In this neighborhood, I didn’t have to tote a knife or a sock full of rocks around. Nope. Here you could venture out in the daytime without worrying about bums or druggies lurking around the corner.
Ratcliffe was in the past. Wait. Is that birds or angels I hear singing? Ha.
We’d moved here last March, right after I’d aced my audition and received my apprentice with the Dallas Ballet Company. As of today, I’d spent nearly a year there studying and receiving a small stipend. Fingers crossed, I’d be asked to stay on as part of the corps de ballet or maybe even as a soloist. Of course, my goal was to be a principal dancer, but big dreams take time and hard work. I was ready.
I adored our new building. A historical brownstone, it had large open spaces and windows. The place was owned by Archie Hudson who’d offered to let us move in before Beckham House sold—which it finally did this past fall. He’d been a huge help to us, even taking the money from the sale of Beckham House and investing for us. The rest we used for living expenses and Sarah.
And Archie? He was seeing a nice lady he’d met at his gym. Her name was Lucy, and Cuba liked her. I could tell by the way he talked about her.
Cuba lived in the same building as us, just one floor up, although he stayed here with us most of the time. Between helping his dad with a yearlong camp for underprivileged kids and his classes at Southern Methodist, he was busy. So, having him here meant everything to me. I teased him sometimes about spending his time with three ladies, but he didn’t care. Heather-Lynn fawned over him constantly, and Sarah believed he’d always been around. He ate it up.
He and I loved exploring our new neighborhood together. The library was my favorite, where we’d wander inside the stacks for hours, getting lost in the aisles, holding hands. Every now and then, when the librarians who worked the circulation desk weren’t looking, we’d sneak into the service elevator and ride down to the basement where books were kept in piles on big work tables. Of course, my days of stealing books were over, but it was a good place to kiss. A good place to explore with someone you loved.
He pulled back, searching my eyes. “Tell me you feel this too, this new beginning for us.”
“New,” I said softly, running my hands through his hair.
He rubbed my back, his hands sliding over the blue silk, but then he stopped, taking a step back to give me a once-over. “This dress reminds me of my dream. Remember?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to take this hot-as-hell dress off you, and I’m going to kiss you until you moan and beg me for more.”
“Oh? Then what?” I breathed against his lips as he unzipped the back and eased the soft fabric off my shoulders. The dress pooled at my feet.
“Every wicked thing I can think of and then some,” he murmured, his fingers making quick work of my bra. “I have a whole year to make up for not being with you; in you.”
Oh. I panted, my heart going from normal to flat-out crazy. And then I lost my mind when his lips latched on to my nipple. I groaned and clutched him to me, the sensation rocking my world.
“Don’t ever stop,” I whispered, and he muttered something. I have no idea what.
He slipped his hand underneath my panties, his fingers sliding in my heat, stroking, making me moan.
And after that, we moved fast, removing clothes frantically.
The bed seemed the best place, and we would get to it eventually, but at that moment the velvet chair was closer. We used the chair in a way it wasn’t meant to be, and I figured we might have to bring it home with us.
A few minutes later, room service interrupted our love fest, and I giggled uncontrollably behind the bathroom door as a towel-clad Cuba watched the waiter set up my meal. He grinned like a madman the entire time. We were both giddy.
“It killed me to break-up with you last year. To say those mean words,” he said told me again, in-between feeding me bites of filet. We sat on the floor, me wearing his shirt, him wearing his tight as hell underwear, which I couldn’t keep my hands off. It felt like Christmas or a birthday.
I said, “I should have seen the truth sooner. You were so dark. I should have realized—”
He stopped me with his fingers on my mouth. “Grief makes us do crazy things, Dovey. Let it go and focus on us now. And maybe, just maybe, our time apart gave us time to grow up and appreciate each other more. We’ve been through hell together, and we’ve come out on the other side. Older and wiser.”
Yes.
I held a strawberry to his lips and watched his white teeth bite into it. It made me all kinds of flustered.
“So you wanna go gamble later?” he said, a glint in his eyes I didn’t recognize. “Find a wedding chapel?”
I dropped the strawberry. “Is that a proposal? Are you serious?”
He shrugged, a small smile working his face. “Okay, maybe not this trip, but maybe after your ballet audition or maybe after you sell the house. Is that too sudden?”
I blinked.
“Okay, fine, I can wait until you make principal dancer or I finish pre-med. That is if you love me and if you want to spend the rest of —”
Oomph! Food flew as I shoved him down to the ground and rained kisses all over him.
“I love you,” I said as he clutched me to him.
He kissed me. “Forever, Dovey.”
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
–Oscar Wilde
One Year Later
WARM.
I woke up in gradual phases, stirring around, my body searching for his, but he wasn’t there. I tugged my fluffy covers tight around me and rubbed my socked feet together, glad we had heat. January. I loved it. Really.
Beckham House was long gone.
Now, Heather-Lynn, Sarah, and I lived on Ross Street in downtown Dallas, a hipster kind of place with coffee houses, quaint book stores, and specialty boutiques. In this neighborhood, I didn’t have to tote a knife or a sock full of rocks around. Nope. Here you could venture out in the daytime without worrying about bums or druggies lurking around the corner.
Ratcliffe was in the past. Wait. Is that birds or angels I hear singing? Ha.
We’d moved here last March, right after I’d aced my audition and received my apprentice with the Dallas Ballet Company. As of today, I’d spent nearly a year there studying and receiving a small stipend. Fingers crossed, I’d be asked to stay on as part of the corps de ballet or maybe even as a soloist. Of course, my goal was to be a principal dancer, but big dreams take time and hard work. I was ready.
I adored our new building. A historical brownstone, it had large open spaces and windows. The place was owned by Archie Hudson who’d offered to let us move in before Beckham House sold—which it finally did this past fall. He’d been a huge help to us, even taking the money from the sale of Beckham House and investing for us. The rest we used for living expenses and Sarah.
And Archie? He was seeing a nice lady he’d met at his gym. Her name was Lucy, and Cuba liked her. I could tell by the way he talked about her.
Cuba lived in the same building as us, just one floor up, although he stayed here with us most of the time. Between helping his dad with a yearlong camp for underprivileged kids and his classes at Southern Methodist, he was busy. So, having him here meant everything to me. I teased him sometimes about spending his time with three ladies, but he didn’t care. Heather-Lynn fawned over him constantly, and Sarah believed he’d always been around. He ate it up.
He and I loved exploring our new neighborhood together. The library was my favorite, where we’d wander inside the stacks for hours, getting lost in the aisles, holding hands. Every now and then, when the librarians who worked the circulation desk weren’t looking, we’d sneak into the service elevator and ride down to the basement where books were kept in piles on big work tables. Of course, my days of stealing books were over, but it was a good place to kiss. A good place to explore with someone you loved.
