by S. E. Hall
“I’m positive,” Zach mumbles.
Dane and I wave to Bennett and follow him out. I give Zach the front seat and keep them talking about the work they did at Whitley’s the whole ride to drop him off. It sounds like a little wonderland what they’ve set up. Evan never ceases to amaze me with his grandiose acts of romance, but the desolate vibe in the car simply cannot be lifted.
I hug Zach when he exits, me climbing out to take the front seat, and whisper, “if you change your mind about the beat down, you just let me know. She fucking sucks and you’re amazing. I’d consider it a personal favor if you let me make her hurt too.”
“Love you, Laney.” He kisses the top of my head, shoulders slumped as he walks away.
“How drunk was she?” Dane asks me when I’m settled and buckled.
“I don’t know, they left the table to dance.” I push the button to let the top down on the Camaro, by far my favorite of his cars. Right now I’m just craving the rush, the escapism of the warm night air blowing through my hair. “How drunk did she need to be? I don’t think you can get drunk enough to cheat on your boyfriend, let alone be dry humped publicly.”
“Glad you feel that way, baby, and totally agree.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “Dumb question, forget I asked.”
“Let’s just drive for a while,” I suggest, my voice lazy, “I love this car.”
“I have something I want to show you; we’ll drive there. I wanted to show you in the daylight, but this works too.”
“K,” I sigh, not caring at all. He can drive me anywhere and I’m good with it. “We need to find someone to set Zach up with, soon. I don’t want him unhappy. You have any more hot girls like that Jenee that work for you? How about one of them?” If he thinks I missed the shift in his shoulders or the frown that flashed across his brow, he’s wrong. “What?”
“Nothing, yeah, I’ll think about it.” Nothing my ass.
“Nice try, Dane. What?”
“Baby, nothing,” he replies, kissing my hand. “I love you and I love how you look out for your friends. I’ll tell Sawyer to work on it.”
“I knew it! You slept with her.” I knew the minute I met her, and yes, I used the line of conversation to my advantage to confirm the suspicion that’s been eating at me.
He doesn’t say anything. Why would he? He can’t deny it and he damn sure doesn’t want to affirm it, but he doesn’t have to.
“How long ago?”
“Before I knew you.”
“Well obviously,” I snarl, “how long before you knew me?”
“Laney, why are we talking about this? I don’t ask you—”
“You don’t? Really? I seem to recall reciting a play by play for you in the hot tub. Not that I had any actual sex buddies to tell you about. I can’t even describe to you my joy at the thought of you being with her like you have me.” I sniffle and wipe a fake tear. “And the fact that she works for you, is still in your life, just warms my fucking heart. Now, HOW. LONG?”
He stops the car and turns abruptly in his seat, trying to pull me in his lap, but I slap away his hands.
“Stop it!” I snap at him but he overpowers me and has me in his lap effortlessly despite my squirming and feeble attempts to escape, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him.
“This isn’t about us and you know it. You’re mad at Avery and sad for Zach and you’re taking it out on me. Just because he couldn’t trust her doesn’t mean our relationship is doomed.”
I’m not kidding anymore—how does he do that? In-fucking- furiating.
“I was never, ever, with her, or any other girl, like I am with you. Not even close. Yes, I fucked Jenee, maybe four times, the last time a couple months before I met you. She’s attractive, she’s discreet, and she was there. But I never made love to her, or anyone, and I will never be with another woman for the rest of my life.”
I should be okay now, quit throwing a tantrum and realize he’s right; I’m not mad at him tonight. I shouldn’t care a bit about his past and should bask in the fact that I know he loves me and speaks the truth.
Coulda woulda shoulda.
“I am the luckiest man in the world that no one has ever loved you like I have, that I never have to think about that. When we’re eighty, I will still be the only man who has ever been inside your sweet body, and I realize how amazing that is. And if I’d known you were on your way to me, I would have waited for you. If I could take it back, I would. But I can’t, so you tell me something I can do to make it better.”
Fire Jenee.
Just kidding. Except not at all.
“How often do you interact with her? She works for you…do you see her every day?”
“I almost never see her. And as of right this minute, I will never see her again. I can fire her, transfer her, anything you want. Anything for you,” he rubs the back of his hand down my cheek, “you know that. Just say the word.”
“Was she the last one before me?”
“Yes.”
This is where I resolve it in my mind and move on. Except the whole part about me not doing that.
“Was she good? Better than me?”
Oh shut up, you know damn good and well you’d be wondering the same thing.
“She was exactly like any other person I was with; anatomically the same, pleasant and purpose-serving and cool about the situation. Jenee was actually the only one who meant it when she said she didn’t need more, there was no stalking me or bugging me for more afterwards. But Laney, simply kissing you is better than sex with anyone else. So when I’m inside you, completely in love with you, nothing will ever fucking compare. My God, baby, you have to know I’d die if it was the only way to get to love you again, even just one more time.”
He means it, and it works, unleashing in me the Laney who wants to own this man, wants him to own me. I glance around, no idea where we’d stopped, and see no one, no lights, just some dark street.
“Raise the top,” I boss him, running my tongue along his neck.
I’m about to remind him what it feels like to be with me. And show him it doesn’t always have to be sweet lovemaking either. I can be his love, delicate and gentle, or anything else he needs, but right now I’m about to alpha mama all over him.
I unbutton his shirt, kissing every glorious inch of his chest as it’s exposed, his fingers digging into my hips with more and more urgency. A rumble starts growing in his throat and he pushes himself up into me as hard as I grind myself down onto him. Aroused and tingling from scalp to toes, I moan brazenly and feel a rush of heated moisture between my legs from our taunting game of up and down, push and pull, cat and mouse. Next is the button on his jeans, and when he tries to still my hand by covering it with his, I defiantly flick my wrist, and his hand, off mine.
“Yes,” I bite out, deadly serious. I dare him, meeting the fire in his brown eyes with my own, to even think about stopping me again.
“Laney, we—” he starts, chest rising and falling with his invigorated breaths.
Using my knees, I raise myself off him, not-so-sexily working off my pants but leaving on my panties, then quickly tugging his pants and boxers to his hips. He raises himself, not really putting up the fight despite trying to stop me with his words.
“We are gonna do this, right here, right now.” I nibble on his bottom lip and run my hands up his bare chest, circling my index fingers around his nipples and giving him my best “come fuck me” eyes.
“You sure, baby?” he moans, taking his hardness in hand and running the tip up and down the soaked crotch of my panties, teasing me, giving me the chance to change my mind…or to beg for it.
“God, yes,” I’m lost, hands tugging at his hair, mouth moving rhythmless and crazed over his neck, trekking down slowly to his chest, now covered in a slight sheen of anticipation and fragrant of musky, virile man.
“Back pocket, wallet,” he pants, “grab it for me. Hurry.”
He tears my panties apart and off in one masterful
move, tossing them on the dash and enflaming me with that conceited wink of his, using his nimble, seeking fingers to make it impossible for me to successfully retrieve anything from anywhere. Instead, I bow my back, head touching the steering wheel now.
“Grab my wallet, Laney, or my hand’s gotta leave you.”
The threat of losing his touch snaps me back into reality. As fast as possible, I reach around him and dig out the condom, but then realize he has yet again taken control…and I’m taking it back, showing him what his woman can do.
“Scoot the seat back; give me room to work,” I demand.
He follows my direction, using the hand not currently driving me mad with its punishing in and out pursuit, all the while staring at me with a wild curiosity in his eyes. His tongue trails over his bottom lip in wicked invitation. I slink backwards, sliding to my knees on the floor board, my heels digging into my ass. Leaning forward between his legs, I grip under his thighs, just a hint of fingernails, and yank him forward, never breaking our connected stares.
“This time, you’re gonna be a good boy.” I lean in and give him a one long base-to-tip preview lick. “And you’ll do exactly as I say.”
The guttural noise that escapes him may be the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. “For you,” he throws back his head and groans, “anything.”
“Put your hands behind your head,” I trace one finger under his boys, back to front, “move them and I stop. Understand?”
“Mmm, for you,” he hums, looking down, intent on catching every second of the show.
One finger becomes my whole hand, rolling his balls with enough roughness to satisfy him, to make sure he knows I’ve got him. Unable to help himself, he takes himself in one hand, rubbing up and down slowly, so as promised, I lean back, depriving him of all contact from me. My brows raise and I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to move that hand or tell me we’re done.
“You better get that sweet mouth on me soon or I’m taking back the reins,” he warns, his voice low, throaty, and very menacing.
“Get that hand back up then.”
With a sexy but warning pout, he inches his hand back behind his head in slow motion. The storm brewing in his eyes tells me my sexy as hell control freak is about to lose his ever-loving mind.
Feeling empowered, I pooch out my duck lips, kissing up one side of his dick and down the other, wet, sloppy kisses. “Now what?” I ask innocently, trying to let him have some facet of authority…but low and behold, I see one hand creeping back down from my periphery.
“Uh, uh, uh, Mr. Kendrick, no hands. Tell me.” I turn his sexy language on him.
“Suck all of me down, baby,” he whines, shifting in his seat, just dying from this transfer of power. “Laney! Fuck!”
He moans then shouts as I take him in all at once, tightening my lips around him and hinting with my teeth on the upstroke. It stretches the corners of my mouth impossibly, leaving the faintest hint of saltiness at the back of my tongue and I suck with abandon, bobbing up and down like a dashboard doll, wanting for once to be the one setting the pace, driving him mad, making him shake uncontrollably and shriek my name.
I’m pulled off him, catching my bearings and breathing as he pants down into my face, an almost painful grip on my upper arms. Oh yeah. He’s at that place he always takes me to…Fuck Me ‘Fore I Die Town. Using my teeth to rip open the condom, I grin, reveling in this moment, and begin to roll it over him.
“You ready for me?” I blink flirtatiously, wondering if I can actually get fire to come out of his nose.
He laughs, deep and loud, almost evilly, and grabs under my arms, pulling me up on his lap at the speed of light.
“Spread those legs and straddle me.” His voice leaves no room for argument. He has hit ground zero and my role as chief is over. My legs go apart and slide down on either side of his hips. “Soak my hand first,” he demands, two fingers mercilessly gaining entrance as his thumb rubs circles right where it needs to. “You drive me crazy, baby, teasing me. Now be my good girl.” He kisses me, biting and tugging my lip painfully, then apologizing with a smooth lick. “Move with it; fuck my hand just how you want,” he croons as he ambidextrously uses his left hand to pull down my shirt and bra cup, sucking one painfully hard nipple into his mouth. “Give it to me, Laney. Come for your man.” He bites down on the point and I explode, screaming his name through the shakes of my body and trembling of my thighs.
“Dane,” I moan, coming down from the high only he can send me on, “so good. So good.”
He pulls his fingers out, licking me deliberately off him. “Mmmmm baby,” he rumbles, then grips that hand around his base, “take me there too, baby. Get on this,” he demands, his voice low and gritty, “and slide down real slow.”
Teasingly, euphorically, I take him in me, the physical connection shadowed only by the emotional one. It doesn’t matter where we are, it always feels right. When my body is flush against his, I whimper as he growls, kneading the breast he’d bared manically.
“There’s my girl.” He thrusts up into me, emphasizing his murmured point. “Kiss me, hard.”
Gladly, my lips fly to his, tasting his lust for me. A quake runs through him and I feel him throb inside me as he purrs in my mouth, “so close, with me, again baby.” He uses his grip on my hips to show me what he wants. “Roll ‘em down and hard, yeah, fuck yeah, like that.”
Once again his thumb finds me as he warm mouth caresses my breasts. He knows exactly what I need. He’s there; I can feel it and it sets me off, knowing what I can do to him. His name escapes me again, loud and long. “Love you baby, love you so much,” he says sweetly as he kisses up my chest, my chin, ending mouth to mouth slow and sweet. My sweet, sensual caveman.
“Love you too.” I lay my head against his chest, catching my breath.
He rubs up and down my back, kisses my head, every bit as good at afterplay. Finally, I move back to my seat, arranging myself as he, too, takes care of things. The windows are all fogged up, making me laugh, and I wipe out a circle.
“Where are we?” I ask, still not able to quite make it out.
“Come on!” He grabs the keys and opens his door. “I told you I wanted to take you somewhere.”
He’s waiting, hand out for me, when I put my shoes back on and open my door. “It’s dark! What are we doing?” Outside of the car, it’s easy to tell we’re in the driveway of a house. “Dane, it’s late, whose house is this?”
“Yours.” He turns to me and smiles before inserting a key into the front door. “And it’s not a house, it’s a duplex.” His hand finds the switches and two lights come on, illuminating both the porch and front room. “Go check out your new pad, Miss Walker,” he says, kicking the front door shut behind him.
“Wh-what?”
“I bought this place for you. Next year, you don’t have to live on campus; the athletic requirement lifts after your freshman year. This place is halfway between my house and school and has no 11pm curfew.” He winks, stalking towards me. “So we can sleep together every night. It’s a duplex, so if I have to be away on business, I know you’re safe with Tate and Bennett living on the other side.”
Duplex, to-ma-to...he bought me a house. “Do Tate and Bennett know?”
“Not yet. If you hate it, we have to find another one. No sense getting them excited until my baby gives it her stamp of approval. So let me show you around.” He laces his fingers through mine, beginning the tour after a chaste kiss to my fingers. “This is the living room, obviously, I thought we’d go pick out new carpet and paint this weekend.”
I am still in shock, incapable of actual speech, letting him guide me as he sees fit. He bought me a house. A house.
“And this is the kitchen.” He flips on a light.
The kitchen has empty, gaping holes where appliances should be. “You can pick out your fridge and stuff too. I’d like to see new countertops too,” he knocks on it, “unless you like these.” Offset is a kitchen area, the hanging ligh
t capturing my attention. “We can change that too; anything for you.”
“I like it, it just needs raised up a bit.”
“Done.”
We move down the hall and he shows me the linen closet and guest bathroom, which I will gladly let him let me redecorate; it’s hideous.
“There’re two bedrooms, this is the spare one,” he says as he ushers me in to the decent-sized room.
“Who will be my roommate?” I ask.
“You don’t have to have one if you don’t want. It’s not like you have to make rent. We can make that room anything you want. Come on, let’s see the master.”
My room is huge, much bigger than any I’ve ever had, with a private bathroom (also needing severe redecoration), a walk-in closet, and the coolest bay window.
“I love it.” I spin, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you bought me a house. You’re too good to be true.” I kiss him deeply, trying to tell him all the big, fluffy words that mean I love you that I can’t iterate.
“I can’t wait to christen every inch of this place,” he says, his wink on auto-pilot, “and hold you every single night. But for now, let’s go to my house. At least until we get furniture here.” He laughs.
“My dad will give me my bedroom furniture, but what am I gonna do about the other rooms?”
“You’re going to fill them with stuff we pick out together. That way I’m there to ensure it’s all sturdy enough.” He answers my confused look by dipping me back, sucking right at the hollow dip in my throat. “Think about it, baby, you’ll figure it out.”
FORTRESS
“So what’d you do all night?” Whitley whispers long after I thought she was asleep.
“I’ll show you tomorrow when it’s light out and you’re sober.
Go back to sleep.”
“I’m sober now,” she rolls towards me, “and I’m not tired. What was all that in the living room? I wanna go see.”
I’d planned a big night, as much set up inside as out, but when I picked her up and found her drunk, I thought it’d be easier to just carry her in and tuck her in bed. How she’d remained floppy as a rag doll when I dressed her down to panties and a shirt for sleeping but somehow caught the production in the living room I’m not sure. I suspect I’d been duped and her snuggling up against me, bare legs thrown over me, was purposeful.