by C.M. Kars
“Yeah, you do. You’ve always cared what I thought. Just like right now, you care that I just want to sleep with you for one night and want nothing more.”
Dean throws back his head and laughs. The sound makes my spine stiffen and my muscles tense. I’m pretty sure my face has screwed up into something ugly.
“Oh, kitten, you haven’t changed one bit, and that’s a pity.” Dean leans closer to me, putting us close as two bodies can be. Yes! He’s going for it. Let’s do this.
“I don’t take bitches to my bed.”
“Why not? We’re the best kind of lay.”
Oh my god, why am I pushing this? It’s one guy! I’ll find someone else to get my fix.
Dean stares at me for a while, the whole time making me squirm. I’ve never been stared at like that – like I’m something irrefutably tragic, and he can’t bear to give me any more pity than he already has.
“What happened to you? How did you become like this?” he whispers, and there have to be knives sticking out of every inch of my skin. His words have gotten past my blood and bone and hurt me deep inside where I never thought I could be hurt again, where I made absolutely sure there was nothing left I owned to have hurt.
Turns out I was wrong.
Retreat. Get your bearings, and come up with a quick escape plan. You need to get out of here.
My God, he’s reading my face, and I feel the weight of his stare and every sweep of his eyes over my cheeks, to my eyes, over my forehead, down to my chin, only to finally, finally rest on my mouth.
Here, I have control. I need control when it comes to Dean. I can’t let him take all my hard work and shatter me to pieces.
“Let’s go to your bed,” I say, using every ounce of feminine wiles I own. They don’t seem to be working on him, though. “And I’ll let you do things to me no one has ever done before.”
Dean doesn’t take the bait, but continues staring at me with enough judgement it’s a wonder how I don’t roll up and die from it all. “I want to know what happened to you, kitten. I need to know what happened.”
I shake my head. “Nope, we’re not going there. I don’t get what I want, you don’t get what you want.”
Pretty sure this is doing awful things for your curse. Yup, karma is going to kick you in the ass and make you fall ‘til all your teeth have been knocked out.
Whatever. How much worse off could I be?
“Katarina...” he whispers, inching closer to my mouth with his. Heat explodes in my insides, and my hands go to his huge biceps, nails digging into the muscle. God, he’s all man and I haven’t even seen his cock. My lower belly clenches and my panties are soaked.
He’s always been able to do this to me. Bastard.
A low pulsing throb settles between my legs, and Dean puts us closer so my chest is mashed against him, and his hard-on presses into the softness of my belly. I whimper, pressing as close as I can until I can’t breathe anymore from all the pressure. My brain is fuzzy, and the heat coming off him makes me want to scream.
I need my clothes off, I need Dean to tear them off of me.
I lick my lips, watching with unfocused eyes how his mouth is coming closer and closer to mine. And then it’s there -
I moan into Dean’s mouth at the remembered feel of him, of being close to him like this.
Fuck, I need him inside me so bad, making me explode into a million pieces where all the shit in my life doesn’t exist.
I get my arms around his neck, and ignore the cold, wet noses poking at my ankles, or the clacking of doggy nails hitting the flooring, as the prance around us.
Kinda weird that they’re watching. Do I care?
The answer is hell, no.
Dean presses his lips more firmly against mine, flicking his tongue against my upper lip, making me gasp and tingle and shiver. He pulls back for a nanosecond only to adjust his grip around my waist. His hands travel down the small of my back and palm my ass, gripping me underneath until I’m airborne and wrapping my legs around his waist.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’m pushed into a wall, and end up sliding down his body until we make contact where it matters. A little cry of triumph comes out of me but is immediately kissed away by my giant Viking. His tongue thrusts against mine, a rough rasp of flesh on flesh that I can’t wait to mimic elsewhere.
His taste floods my mouth and I tunnel my fingers into his hair, fisting them in the strands so he doesn’t go anywhere. It doesn’t take long for Dean to start bucking against me, little spasms from his hips hitting me sweet enough that little sparks start flitting through my veins, ready to set me off in a chain of fireworks.
Dean groans against me, nipping at my lips only to lick away the pain. He’s growling now, the sound part frustration and desperation. Our breathing is fast and hurried, but I’m grinding so good against him who the fuck needs air?
My heels hit the ground with a resounding click and Dean abruptly pulls away from me, standing in the middle of his living room, heaving in air. I watch, dumb and stupid, the way his chest muscles expand and compress with his breath, and watch him wipe away my kiss with the back of his hand.
Ice trickles down my spine while lead settles in the pit of my stomach, soon to be chased by nausea.
“It’s not going to be that easy anymore, kitten,” Dean spits out, eyes dark and angry. His pants are straining over his bulge, the outline of it making me shiver and wish I was up close and personal. “I haven’t been your plaything for ten awesome years.”
Plaything? He thought he was my plaything?
Dean stomps forward and wrenches the door open. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
I’m forcefully removed from his apartment and I didn’t even have time to say goodbye to the little Yorkie puppy that clearly adores me. Maybe he’d teach Dean some lessons in manners.
I move slowly, not making it easy for him. I know he’s affected by me, I know he wants me. So why’s he making this so complicated?
“We’re not through, you and I.”
“Katie,” Dean says and it stings, him using my nickname. “I know I’m good enough to fuck, hell, even I need a quick fix to scratch the itch. But you took a part of me that’s been broken ever since that day you humiliated me in front of the entire senior class.”
He’s so fucking hot, even when he’s angry. “I know your track record. There’s no fucking way that I’m going through your shit again. I want nothing to do with you.”
Dean slams the door in my face. I’m chilled to the bone, and need to go lick my wounds, because I do have wounds. I’m just really good at hiding them.
***
I’m supposed to be supporting my best friend. Instead, I’m reliving the look on Dean’s face when he basically shoved me out of his apartment. His features had screwed into something ugly and for that split second, I believed that he hates me, has hated me for ten years because of the bullshit I pulled back in the day.
Now, I’m just pissed off.
Nobody talks to me that way, not even my own parents. Who the fuck does Dean think he is?
“Uh, Katie, you’re cussing Dean out under your breath and you have a scary look on your face,” Sera says, handing me a glass of red wine. I clutch the glass in both hands and will myself to calm down enough so I don’t break the thing and lacerate all the ligaments in my hand.
Deny, deny, deny. Deny it ever happened and you can erase it from your memory.
“No, I’m not. Everything’s cool.”
It’s not cool. I’m going to make him pay no matter what it takes. He’s going to pay for making me feel this way.
“Ha, yeah, right. You look about ready to murder me just for sitting next to you.”
I toss her a dirty look. “Well, you are in my personal bubble. Some people would go ape-shit if you were this close. Luckily, I like you, and would be lost without you.” I sip my red wine, give up on the sipping, and full out chug it. I’m going to be sleeping over anyway.
“So, wanna tell me what happened?”
I shake my head. “That’s a negative, Delos. We don’t need to relive the horror of the moment, thank you.”
The door unlocks from the outside and in step Matty and fucking badass MacLaine. Matty’s yelling, hands waving in the air. I’m not sure it’s out of excitement or fear or annoyance. I don’t want to deal with this right now.
“But Daddy, I wanted ice cream! I was good all day! I didn’t even kick Joey in the shin!” Matty yells at the top of his lungs. He looks about ready to start crying and that is just too much drama for me right now. I hold out my now empty glass to Sera for a refill.
She does my bidding.
“Matty, I made those special cookies you like. Come and have some of those instead,” Sera coaxes and Matty’s blue eyes brighten at the prospect of cookie deliciousness. I’m jealous.
Maybe Sera will give me some, too.
The kid wipes his eyes hard with his hands, and with one last sniffle prances over to Sera, only to rush back to the doorway and pull off his shoes like a madman about to lose his victim.
“Go wash your hands first, buddy,” Hunter says, as he takes off his steel-toe boots. Whew, even that looks like his modelling a pose for me... well, Sera, but I sure can look on and appreciate the view.
MacLaine takes his time unlacing his boots, and hauls the cooler he brought in with him up onto the counter when he’s done. He looks over at Sera at the kitchen sink with his kid, and even I can see from my vantage point on the couch, that he’s smiling at them. I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing it.
Man, who do I have to hurt to get a guy to look at me like that? And why am I even having this conversation with myself? It’s not going to last, they just both don’t know it yet. And neither does Matty.
Maybe Sera would be better off with Russia. I mean, the guy can’t commit to anyone to save his life, but that’s okay. He’s just a male version of me, and Sera and I get along fine. She’ll know what to expect from him, what he can give. If she wants more, well, she’ll know he can’t give it to her and move on.
Why does being in a relationship have to be the end-all and be-all of any woman’s existence? Why can’t we all just sleep around and that’s it? Monogamous relationships don’t work. When the hell are we going to get that through our heads?
“Hey, Sera,” MacLaine greets, but stays on the opposite side of the counter. Sera stiffens for a split second, but I think I’m the only who noticed it because I know what happened at lunch.
Shit, how in hell is she going to keep that a secret?
“Hey, Hunt. You and Matty have a good time at your mom’s?”
Hunter snorts, and it still sounds hot coming out of him. I need to get me one of those, and preferably battery-operated. “Yeah, a spectacular time. Matty couldn’t sit still and I took him into Jules’ old room for five seconds then had to leave. I couldn’t stay in there for longer than that.”
Sera dries off Matty’s hands and the kid scampers to the opposite counter where the cookies have been cooled on a cookie sheet. He grabs one for each hand and takes a bite out of each, smiling through the crumbs and half-chewed dessert.
Delos comes around the counter and into the living room where Hunter’s standing and I swear to God, it’s like I’m not even here. They’re in their own little world and I’ve never felt more like a third wheel in my entire life. Now I know how Sera felt back in high school.
He wraps his hands around her lower back, locking a wrist in one palm. Sera places both of her hands on his chest and goes up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the tip of his nose. Holy hell, these two.
They’re so freaking cute together, even if they are a ticking time bomb. It’s only a matter of time that Sera realizes she can do so much better. Yeah, MacLaine will always be a fond memory of being her first, but the girl has to upgrade – this worrying over his diabetes and the kid shit has got to go.
And just like that I have a plan. I think Russia and I are going to be getting a lot closer in the next few days.
“How was your day?” Hunter asks, voice low and oh-so-sexy I’m proud of Sera for not spontaneously combusting. See? That’s progress.
“Good. Thanks for sleeping with Matty tonight, you’re an all-star,” she whispers, pressing herself closer to him. Hunter holds her tighter against his body, but doesn’t say anything. He’s a smart bastard, maybe he’ll figure it out one of these days.
“Anything for you, baby,” he says, and then kisses her. It’s not ugly or gross like you see in some pornos; these two have a connection. You can see it in the way they hold each other, and the way they react to one another. Together, they’re explosive, and I’m not sure she could ever find that with Russia.
Gotta weigh the pros and cons.
I clear my throat and get jostled when Matty takes a flying leap onto the couch and freaks me out. The leather against my ass makes a farting sound and the little kid’s head swivels over to me in a shocked O. Yes, Matty, girls do do that on occasion.
Hunter and Sera haven’t heard me, they kiss sweet and slow, like they have all the time they need. I kinda feel like I’m vagina-blocking Sera tonight, but she’s the one that invited me over.
My phone buzzes on the glass coffee table and lights up with a message – a message from Dean, no less.
I’m sorry.
Now what the flying fuck is that supposed to mean?
Chapter 14
I’ve never been patient. I’m the person who’s ready to combust at the doctor’s office, waiting for people to hurry up and stop their sob stories so I can get in and get out for my yearly check-up.
I’m the person who’s strangling the steering wheel while sitting in traffic, and swearing at every asshole cutting into my lane. I’m the person who paces and mutters under my breath when I have to wait for something.
Dean doesn’t know this. Either that, or he knows how to make me go bat-shit crazy.
“Come on in,” Dean says, and my heels click against his flooring in staccato beats that somehow push my throbbing headache into full-blown migraine territory. Grinding my teeth in frustration just makes the pain explode to inhumane levels behind my eyes.
“You are starting to piss me off,” I growl at him, jabbing my index finger into his chest. I don’t let myself get distracted by the sheer male perfection that is his chest, since the fucking asshole is shirtless, again, and I can’t take the time to slowly peruse at my own pace because I’ve got my mom’s stupid ass rehearsal dinner to go to in twenty minutes.
“What the hell did I do now?” he snarls back at me, letting me back him into his living room where he drops onto his couch and I loom over him. Much better position for me to be in.
“You are making me into a yo-yo, you asshole! Could you maybe just decide what the fuck you want! I swear, this whole shit with you coming back into my life is driving me insane!” I stamp my foot hard enough that the vibrations make my ankle squeak in pain.
“How come you don’t just do what I want? Fucking shit, Dean, get naked. Now. We’re doing this.”
Dean’s mouth pops open and he’s got such surprise on his face, if I wasn’t so pissed off right now and horny and in pain, I’d find it in myself to laugh.
He gets up, putting us back on normal scale with him towering over me. Dickface!
“What the fuck? I said no.”
“You don’t get to say no,” I snap, moving closer to him. With serious heels on I make it to his Adam’s apple; I watch it bob and wonder how even that is sexy, too. I hate him; I hate this. I’m wound up so tight, all I need is a few good rubs, then it’s sayonara and I can move on to my next victim.
His eyes are darker now, and I can’t really tell if he wants to fuck me or kill me. Maybe a bit of both, but damn, what an interesting crime scene that would be.
“I don’t like you.”
I pull my head back and glare at the ceiling. I tip my head back down to catch his eyes.
“What has th
at got to do with anything? I’m hot.”
Dean rubs a hand over his face, completely exasperated with me. My knees tremble, and my adrenaline has me shaking. I don’t want to go tonight, I don’t want to go to the hotel hall, and sit down and listen to fucking Malcolm talk, and to my idiot mother babble and tell me how she’s so in love, and wait around for Malcolm’s asshole kids to give me attitude.
I want to stay here and have a ton of orgasms. So, really there’s no real competition in deciding how to spend my night – if only Dean would cooperate. But no, my bad luck has decided to kick in and in the shittiest way possible.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
I shake my head in the negative.
Dean’s face twists, like he’s tasting bad food, all while watching a compound fracture bust through the skin. He places his hands on his hips and glares me down. Someone should tell him that I’m Italian and that kind of stare is nowhere near as terrifying as my nona’s. Plus, he’s got no wooden spoon that he’ll chase me with to prove a point. So no, I’m not scared of Dean Carter.
I’m the one in control here, not him.
“There is no problem here. I’ve told you already, I don’t want a relationship – I don’t need a relationship. There are no strings after I leave. I’m not going to call you, hell, you’ll never see my face again, but c’mon, Dean, I want to have sex. Now.”
“How do I put this delicately?” he says, rubbing his mouth. “I don’t like you, therefore, I won’t be touching that body, no matter how hot you think it is.”
Ah, there’s a sledgehammer to my chest. I can’t breathe!
“What... what did you just say to me?” But we both know what he said, and even he might look sorry, if only for a second. I hope I didn’t imagine it, because he’s not the person I thought he was – and that makes all the difference.
“Your face, Katarina, it used to keep me up at night. The way your eyes would get all big and excited when we had conversations about football – genuine conversations about the game, and how the NFL trumps the CFL every single time.” Dean grins, lost in memories.