“Maybe you should figure out where you want your furniture to go.”
He’s got a point. “You don’t think the dresser should sit right in the middle of the room with the desk next to it?”
“Why not?” He shrugs. “Well just line your boxes along the wall and you can live out of those.”
“It’s a thought.” I pretend to seriously think about it.
“Because that’s not anxiety producing at all.” He laughs. “No boxes, Mary.”
Since he grew up in a house surrounded by boxes everywhere, I wouldn’t do that to him, or me. It would drive me nuts always digging for stuff, and Dylan wouldn’t be able to relax in my room.
He gets off the bed. “Finish up and I’ll see if these can be organized somehow.”
“You don’t have to unpack for me.”
“I’ll be unpacking with you,” he corrects and starts grabbing boxes and sorting.
I had marked them, somewhat, when I packed with words like closet, bath, bed and kitchen. The kitchen ones didn’t make it to my room and it looked like Christian had already started unpacking those. When I lived with Shelby and the girls, we each had a shelf in the fridge, a cupboard for our food and another for our dishes. The only thing we shared was a coffee maker and toaster. Will it be the same here, or is he just putting stuff away that goes together? Not that I care. It’s not like I brought that much food with me and all I had in the fridge at the apartment was cheese, which I left behind. My food was pretty much cookies, crackers, cereal, soup, and tuna because I hadn’t really gone to the grocery store, or had the time, after I got back from winter break.
Dylan takes a few smaller boxes into the bathroom. “Do you care where any of this goes?”
“Your organization is probably better than mine,” I call back. I always start off in a new place organized with everything in its place. I’ll be able to keep it that way for probably a week. Once school and work gets hectic again, all bets are off. Then again, this bedroom is larger than any I’ve had before so either I’ll stay organized, or there will be a bigger space to drop shit.
I finish off the pancakes and hop off the bed. “Those were delicious, thank you.”
“I’m surprised you were even hungry after everything you ate last night.”
My face heats. “What can I say, I love food.”
“Have you always been like that?”
I have to laugh. “Not always. I’d just not eat if I didn’t like it, or didn’t think I was going to like it. My brothers were pickier, which pissed Major off royally.”
“What did he do?” Dylan takes my plate and heads for the door.
“A week of MREs.”
He frowns. “What are those?”
“Meals Ready to Eat.” I laugh. “He brought a bunch home one night. That was our breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a week, and we had no clue what we were getting until we opened them. No snacks between meals either.”
“Those are what soldiers eat in the field, right?”
“Yep,” I confirm. “They really weren’t bad, but my brothers hated them. We all got over being picky after that and learned to appreciate what Mom cooked.”
Looking back I can laugh about that week, but I was really resentful of Major at that time, so I wouldn’t let him know that I really didn’t mind them so much. My brothers, however, acted as if they were starving to death and would only eat them to stay alive. “Major even called the school and told them that none of us could get the lunch being offered in the cafeteria and that we would be bringing our lunch. If we forgot it, we were to go without.”
Dylan’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Trust me, we weren’t starving and one day without lunch was not going to kill us, but Major knew us better than I realized because that first day, of course my brothers and I forgot our lunch. It was a long afternoon.” I laugh. Though the rest of the week was a little embarrassing when my friends wanted to know why I was eating those.
I drain the coffee from my cup and need a refill. “I need to figure out where to move all this furniture, but can’t do that with boxes everywhere.”
“Let’s get the boxes moved along the wall with the door so we can get the bed, desk, and dresser on the walls where you want them,” Dylan says, a little louder than necessary, as he takes my plate and goes out in the hall.
I’m not sure what his plan is, but something is cooking in his brain.
34
I put the last box against the door. “Perfect.”
“Why?”
We did clear a large area, but all the boxes stacked against the door didn’t get anything put away. “Now, nobody can come in,” I whisper as I walk toward her. Unpacking is the last thing on my mind and has been since I came into the apartment and saw her in her little pj shorts and t-shirt.
“It does have a lock,” she whispers back.
“But you don’t think like them yet.” I pull Mary against me. “A locked door means we’re doing something and someone wins a bet.”
“And boxes stacked in front of it so nobody can come in means we’re unpacking.” She laughs, “That’s why you were so loud in telling me about putting the boxes along that wall.” Her arms go around my neck as she grins. “What about your letter?”
“It hasn’t been long enough. I need a distraction before I go back and read it one more time before I send it off.”
“Are you always that careful about everything you write?”
“Yep. Nothing is ever good enough and usually gets edited to death before I post to the blog or send off to the job that hired me for the freelance work.”
“So, even after I read all of your stories and make notes, you are still going to edit the hell out of them?” She frowns.
“No.” And with that answer my stomach clenches. “I’ll do a final edit and then hire a professional editor and see about publishing.”
Mary grins. “Good because you should.”
Her answer helps some of the anxiousness of putting myself out there. But, she knows me and could like my work only because of that. Strangers might trash it. “There is a lot to do between now and hitting publish on some site.”
“Then maybe that’s what you should be working on instead of helping me unpack.” She slides her hands down my back and grabs my ass.
“Your hands are in contradiction to your words.”
“I’m a complicated woman.”
Laughter bursts out. “You are the least complicated woman I know.” And she is. What Mary is thinking and feeling is always on that beautiful face of hers. She lights up like nobody I know, and the empathy in her eyes for Mia when she was hurt and when I was talking about my family was deeper than I’ve seen ever. She’s the least guarded of anyone I’ve ever met.
“Maybe we should start by getting your bed made and moved to where you want it.”
“The bed is an excellent place to start and maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to make it.”
I pull back as the nerves hit me. “So, where do you want it?”
Mary grins. “I kind of thought that was obvious, but I’m open to suggestions.”
My face heats. “The bed!”
“Fine.” She laughs and pulls away before she looks around the room. “We’re really moving my bed now?” Mary almost sounds disappointed.
“Yeah.” Because now that I’ve thought about having sex with her, my nerves took control. Last night I hadn’t been thinking, just wanting and doing, and had we not been interrupted, the first time with Mary would be in the past. “By the window?”
She sighs, but this is for the best. “No. I’m putting the desk there.”
“Let’s do it.” I grab one end and she takes the other as we position it right under the window that looks down on the street.
“This will be nice when I’m doing homework and stuff.” Then she pulls the curtains shut. I thought she wanted to look out and have sunlight in here.
We put her bookcase next to it and then move her dresser out o
f the way because she wants it on the wall opposite the desk, but we’ve stacked all the boxes there.
“Now the bed.” She grins.
More like, what do I have to do to get you in the bed? Geez, I thought for sure that when Dylan blocked the door it was time. I’ve been thinking about having sex with him since last night when he practically had me coming without really touching me.
Okay, I’ve been thinking about having sex with Dylan since I first saw him, but my frustration wasn’t at this level either. If he doesn’t do something soon, it’ll be the lipstick for me as soon as he leaves, because I can’t continue to live in this state of readiness without some release.
With each of us grabbing a corner of the headboard, then foot of the bed and back and forth, we finally get it against the wall. I hadn’t realized it was so heavy. Had I, I would have asked the guys to put it together in the space that it would rest permanently.
Once the headboard is flush against the wall I fall back on it and get comfortable. “Think I’ll rest for a minute.”
Dylan laughs and sits down next to me. “There’s a lot more work to do. Are you going to be resting every fifteen minutes?”
“That depends on what I’m doing for those fifteen.”
“Like what?”
I slide my hands under his shirt, palm against skin. I’m not above using what I have to get what I want. If he doesn’t take the blatant hint, then I guess I’ll spend the rest of the day unpacking and being frustrated.
He groans as I slide a finger over a nipple. “This is not how a room should be unpacked.”
“But it’s a hell of a lot more fun.” I grin up at him. “Besides, I can’t concentrate while you are here, and thinking about last night and what didn’t get accomplished.”
“I thought we got a lot accomplished, getting everything moved.”
Either he doesn’t want me or is clueless to my attempts at seduction. It’s not like I have a lot of practice anyway. “Fine!” I blow out a breath and take my hand out of his shirt.
He grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head. “You’re giving up that easy?” Then his kisses me. A bone-melting, pussy-throbbing kiss that makes me wet almost immediately.
Dylan pulls back and looks at me.
“Now that would be a way to spend fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes? Honey, what I’d like to do with you will take a hell of a lot longer.”
Never have my breasts swelled and nipples gotten tight from talk and being in such close proximity to a hot guy, but the intensity in Dylan’s grey eyes makes my clit throb. “Like what?”
“First this.” He leans back and grabs the bottom of my t-shirt and pulls it up. “No bra in the way today.”
And then he’s kissing me. Sucking a nipple into his mouth. I nearly groan, but bite it back. Nobody can know what we are doing, or what I really hope we’ll end up doing. Not only do I value my privacy, but I also hate that they made bets on when this would happen.
I pull at his shirt because I need skin to skin. He stops only long enough to pull it off and toss it on the floor by mine, then he’s back to kissing me. I wished he’d lay down, but he’s still sitting at the side of the bed. I want him rubbing my clit, but something tells me, Dylan is not a guy to rush to the finish line and I’ll have to go alone for the delicious ride at his pace.
His beard tickles and scrapes wherever it touches my chin, along my neck, across my shoulders, and back to my breasts. He’s at an angle so I can’t really touch him anywhere but his shoulder and his hair, which will have to do for now.
Does he have any clue how hot he is making me right now? All attention on me without me in a position to give any in return.
His tongue blazes a trail down my body as he pushes my shorts and panties down my legs.
This is really happening. Finally!
He tosses my panties and shorts on the floor and I’m now completely naked on my bed. When he stands, I assume he’s going to finish undressing too, but instead, pulls me up, kissing me as he maneuvers me until I’m lying in the middle of the bed and my legs are hanging over it. Dylan steps between them. “Perfect.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever been this open and exposed to a guy before. I’m not exactly innocent, but I’ve never been on display like this either.
His heated gaze starts with my eyes and then looks down my body, taking everything in and lingering on the tattoo in the middle of my midriff right below my boobs, before he moves on. Inwardly, I sigh with relief. Now is not the time to ask about it. Mood killer for sure.
With an index finger he touches the spot where he last kissed. “Is this where I stopped?”
“Yes.” My pulse is pounding and my breaths are shallow as I stare up at him. With a bend and a shift, he can be in me, exactly where I need him right now.
“Are you sure it wasn’t here?”
Dylan trails his finger down my abdomen, stopping just at my slit.
“Maybe?”
“Or here?” he asks as he brushes against my clit.
I almost come undone. “Yes! There.”
He chuckles and sinks to his knees. “Thought so.”
Before I can respond, his mouth replaces his finger.
35
I can’t believe I’m on my knees before Mary, worshiping her like I’ve dreamed about. Wet and ready, her nub swells beneath my tongue. A small moan comes from the back of her throat. I hope she’s not a screamer, not that I’d normally mind, but I don’t want to announce to my friends that somebody just won a damn bet.
Her heat and scent is intoxicating and I slip one and then two fingers into her channel. The walls tighten around me. Damn, she is tight. If she can squeeze two fingers like this, I can’t imagine what it will feel like on my cock.
I’d better not think about it, or I’ll be coming in my jeans. This is about Mary first and then me, hopefully.
She arches as I scrape my teeth across her clit then bite the inside of her thigh, then return to that precious jewel within the folds, giving it my full attention. She grabs a pillow and pulls it over her face and I can’t help but grin.
Increasing the tempo, I add a third finger, stretch, suck and lick, loving how her other hand grabs the sheets, her knuckles going white just as her legs stiffen and her back arches.
I slow my movements and draw away when she twitches from sensitivity and I stand. Mary tosses the pillow away, her breathing is more panting with her boobs rising and falling as if she’d just run a race. “Wow!”
Our eyes lock and she holds out her arms. I lean over her, bracing my hands on the bed and lean over and kiss her. Mary wraps her arms around me as her legs hook around my hips, urging me closer. I pause so I can get a condom and then stop.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t bring a condom.”
Her eyes go wide. “I don’t have any either.”
I’m so close to thrusting into the heaven that is Mary, only to be stopped cold.
“How long?” she asks.
“How long what?”
“Test, sex”
“Sex, over a year. Test, less than a year.”
She slowly smiles. “I’m good too.” With that she sits up and unzips my jeans.
“Birth control?” I practically squeak out as she shoves my jeans and boxers down my legs and grabs my cock.
“Mouth.” She says right before her lips cover my dick. My knees practically buckle on the spot and I have to place my hands on her shoulders to steady myself.
Damn! Her hot mouth is on my cock, her tongue is doing wicked things along the shaft and the tip, and then she fondles my balls, slipping a finger back to tease the perineum. My balls draw up as I thicken. I want to hold off and enjoy the rising tide, but I’ve wanted this for days. I’ve been primed and before I can prepare, it’s there. I don’t even have a chance to warn Mary so she can pull off. Instead, she takes it all. Draining me completely. When she finally pulls back and grins up at me, my legs gi
ve out and I’m falling onto the bed next to her.
So it wasn’t everything I was anticipated would happen, but I have absolutely no complaints.
But what if he does? “You okay?” I fall back and lay next to him. My bones and muscles mush.
He chuckles. “Better than okay.” He lifts his hand and traces the tattoo right above my solar plexus and beneath my boobs. “We’ll have to plan a little better in the future. Keep a space in the bathroom for certain necessities.”
At least he plans on there being more than this one time. And, as soon as possible, I’m going straight to the clinic to get on the pill or some other type of birth control.
As much as I want Dylan, I don’t want to be worried about getting pregnant either. Even pulling out isn’t a guarantee and condoms break. I should have thought about that before now—before I put myself in this position, but up until a few days ago, I didn’t think this would really be happening.
“We should get dressed,” he whispers.
“Yeah, we should,” I return even though I hate the idea of getting up, let alone putting on clothes. I get off the bed and go to the boxes to find something.
“Same thing,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“If you come out wearing something else, they’ll know you changed your clothing.”
“So?”
“Which means, at one point while I was in here you weren’t wearing anything.”
I just blink at him. “Damn you’re good.”
“I know them too well.” He laughs.
I do change my underwear, but that is it. It’s not like they are going to know if that is different. Dylan is slower to move which thrills me.
After I’m dressed, I grab a box and put it on the bed so I can start putting stuff away. If we don’t look like some work has been done in here, my roommates are going to guess.
“So, tell me about the tattoo.”
My heart nearly stops and I swallow against the lump in my throat. In the past, I’ve just told guys that it’s for my dad and left it at that. Dylan deserves more than a simple answer, especially since he’s shared so much with me.
Rattle His Cage: The Baxter Boys #4 (The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled) Page 19