Get Over You (Dare Me Book 1)

by Skylar Hunter

  He stares down at me, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You left without saying goodbye.”

  “I didn’t think you’d notice,” I retort, hating the jealous edge to my voice. “You had your hands pretty full.”

  His narrow smile is more of a smirk. It’s also sexy as fuck.

  I scowl. “If you don’t mind—”

  He barges right in before I can close the door.

  I sputter angrily, “What—”

  “Let’s stop playing games,” he growls.

  “What the hell are you—”

  He grabs my face and slams his mouth down on mine.

  When my hands jerk up to his chest to shove him away, he bands an arm around my waist and roughly hauls me against his unyielding body.

  I resist only a second longer before throwing my arms around his damn neck, kissing him back with all the reckless need and anger that’s been consuming me all night.

  He growls in his throat and walks me backward, kicking the door shut behind him.

  “What the fuck were you doing there with him, huh?” He licks my lips open and plunges his tongue between them, tasting me in boldly erotic strokes until my knees threaten to buckle like hot wax.

  “Answer me.” He kisses his way down to my jaw, nips my throat and bites down on my collarbone, making me shiver uncontrollably.

  “Bastard,” I hiss.

  “Your fault.” He picks me up, gripping my ass when I wrap my legs around his waist.

  I’m burning up, the sensitive flesh between my thighs so swollen and needy it fucking aches. “Take me to my room,” I rasp.

  He’s already carrying me down the hall. “Which one’s yours?”

  “Last one on the right.”

  He marches through my bedroom door, reaches the bed in two strides and tosses me down in the middle of it. He pauses just long enough to remove his shoes and socks, then his heavy body is covering mine as we kiss wildly and feverishly, our teeth scraping together. I can hear myself panting as I grind my hips into him, feeling his thick erection throb against my tingling mons.

  He cups my breasts through the silky fabric of my dress, his thumbs rasping my beaded nipples and making me arch into him.

  Breaking our fevered kiss, he yanks the top of my dress down, snapping the spaghetti straps.

  “Hey—”

  “I’ll buy you a new dress,” he growls.

  “It’s Versace!”

  “I can afford it.” He unhooks the front clasp of my strapless bra. The delicate wisp of black lace has barely fallen away before he’s lowering his dark head to my exposed breasts. I feel the warmth of his breath against my nipples and curl my fingers into the sheets, needing something to grip.

  When he sucks my left nipple into his wet mouth, I throw back my head with a strangled cry.

  He swirls his tongue around the tight peak, nibbling and sucking as I writhe against him, feeling each corresponding tug in my pussy. His cock is hard and heavy against my thigh as his callused hand strokes up my bare leg, sliding under my dress to cup my ass through my lace panties.

  I turn my face into the pillow, hips churning restlessly as I moan his name like a prayer.

  “You’re driving me fucking crazy, you know that?” He drags his mouth to my other breast, voraciously tonguing my swollen nipple.

  I bow off the bed, one leg wrapped around his waist, my hands buried in his messy hair. He licks and sucks both nipples until my nerve endings are strung so tight I need to escape my sizzling skin.

  I don’t know whether to cry or scream when he pulls away, sitting back on his haunches. I watch dazedly as he unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way down, then tosses his platinum cufflinks to the floor and strips his shirt off.

  My eyes drink him in as I reach up to run my fingers over the hard planes of his chest and the chiseled slope of his V muscle. The cuts between his abdomen are so deep that my fingers practically disappear inside them.

  He watches my face intently, savoring my exploration.

  When he’s had enough, he pushes my hands away, pulls my dress up over my head and tosses it to the floor. His eyes lock with mine as he grabs a fistful of my skimpy panties and rips it off, the sound of it tearing from my body echoing around the room.

  Eyes glittering hotly between slitted lids, he stares down at my bared pussy with a look of such ravenous lust that electric need burns through my blood, setting my whole body ablaze.

  “I want you,” I whisper urgently. “Fuck me, Reyes.”

  “Not yet.” He slides a pillow beneath my ass, then kneels between my legs with his weight braced on his elbows.

  When he kisses the inside of my thigh, I shiver hard and open my legs wider. He growls approvingly, using his thumbs to spread my lips like the petals of a flower. I feel the heat of his breath against me and then—oh God, yes—he slides his tongue through my crease.

  I gasp sharply and lift my hips, seeking more.

  He purrs darkly as he teases my opening with hot little flicks of his tongue that drive me insane. When he licks my aching clit, the erotic moan he wrenches from me makes his own breath stutter unevenly against my flesh.

  He runs his tongue up and down the slick knot of nerves, sucking it between his lips while his thumb circles my anus. I keen low in my throat and rock against his mouth, fisting the sheets so hard my fingernails nearly puncture my palms.

  He licks me from clit to vulva, turning my body into a quaking, creaming mess. Just when I think I’m going to lose my mind, he seals his lips over my swollen pussy and plunges his tongue inside me.

  I shatter against his mouth, sobbing his name and gripping his hair so tight that he groans in pleasure-pain, his tongue fucking me through my climax.

  As my legs shake and my toes curl, he pins my hips down so he can devour every drop of cream that oozes out, staring up at my face the whole time.

  As the delicious spasms slowly ebb from my body, I release a shuddering sigh and unravel my hands from his hair.

  Lips wet and eyes blazing, he rises up and rips down the zipper of his tuxedo pants. He shoves them and his underwear down his legs, freeing his heavy cock.

  I lick my lips, marveling at the size of him. “You’re so fucking big,” I breathe.

  He bares his teeth in a grin. Then he fists his straining cock and grabs my hip, his fingers sinking into my flesh.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he orders roughly.

  He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

  Keeping his eyes locked hard on mine, he slips the wide head of his cock inside me.

  I gasp and press against him, hungry for more.

  He pushes all the way in, dragging a scream of ecstasy from my throat.

  His body shudders against me as he groans in my ear, “You feel so fucking good.”

  I moan his name, loving how huge and hot he is, throbbing against my sensitive tissues.

  He starts to thrust, our stomachs and chests sliding against each other, the friction unbearably arousing.

  “Reyes,” I groan with pleasure, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back.

  His face is brutally hard, etched with savage need as he deepens his strokes, making every molecule in my body sizzle and burn. I grab his round ass with both hands, pressing him even deeper into me.

  He curses gutturally and crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me and biting my lip until I taste my own blood. He’s rough and raw, taking me in a frenzy of hammering strokes that have me gasping and crying out, my pussy pulsing around him as sweat slicks our bodies.

  “You belong to me.” He growls the words into my ear. “Me and no one else. You understand? No matter what happens between us, you’ll always be mine.”

  “Yes,” I pant deliriously as each lunge of his cock brings me closer to orgasmic oblivion. “I’m yours, Reyes. I’m so fucking yours!”

  He braces himself on one arm and grabs my hip, angling me just so. Then he thrusts again, nailing my G-spot.

  I cry out in breathless plea
sure, staring up at his face. His jaw is tight, his eyes wild and fierce as he rocks his hips in a circular motion, stroking that painfully sensitive spot in a way that makes my entire body clench.

  “Mine,” he reiterates.

  “Yes! Oh yes, baby, yes.” I grip his bulging forearms, my heels digging into his buttocks as he resumes his ferocious thrusts, pounding me into the bed. “You’re so deep. Oh, my God, Reyes. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmy—”

  The belly-clenching tension tightens inside me until I scream, my mind blanking with pure ecstasy as I explode around his cock.

  He hisses out my name before his head falls back, his hips slamming furiously as he comes with a deliciously primal roar, spilling his seed inside me.

  I cling tightly to him, shivering and shaking as my orgasm reverberates through me, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from my body.

  After one final thrust he collapses against me, jerking with the force of his own release. We lay there in a tangled sweaty heap, panting hotly into each other’s ears.

  Closing my eyes, I trail my fingers up his spine to the damp hair at the nape of his neck, savoring the feel of him inside me and on top of me. My legs are still wrapped around his back. I don’t want to let go. Don’t want this to end.

  After some time, he raises his head and gazes down into my eyes.

  “Reyes,” I whisper, just wanting to say his name.

  He leans down and kisses me with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. Then he rolls onto his back, bringing me with him.

  I snuggle under his arm, resting my head on his shoulder and my hand on his chest. He kisses the top of my head and strokes my disheveled hair, causing me to melt against him.

  Several minutes pass before either of us speaks again.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling through me.

  My lips tug upward. “A little late to be asking, isn’t it?”

  “Are you?”

  I shake my head.

  He curses under his breath.

  I laugh softly. “Relax. I have an IUD.”

  He exhales, raking a hand through his hair.

  His obvious relief makes me feel strangely sad. Would it be so terrible if you got me pregnant? We were almost married.

  The words burn on my tongue, but I dare not say them aloud. The last thing I need is for him to accuse me of trying to trap him with a baby.

  “I never do shit like this,” he murmurs gruffly.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “Have unprotected sex. I always wear a condom.”

  “And I always require one.”

  He’s silent for so long I wonder if he’s speculating about the number of guys I’ve slept with.

  I trace his thick pecs with my finger, watching his cock twitch against his stomach. “You don’t have to wear a condom with me.”

  Another twitch. “I probably should.”

  “Probably.” I bite my lip. “But I don’t want you to.”

  His cock rises impressively. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I lift my head to stare at him. “I don’t want anything between us when we make love.”

  His eyes glitter with such naked hunger that my sex clenches viciously.

  Holding his gaze, I sit up and hook a leg over his hips to straddle him.

  He sucks in a breath, his eyes growing dark.

  I wrap my hand around his hard cock and take him inside me, sinking slowly down his length as we both groan.

  “Christ.” He arches his back, filling me completely as I brace my hands on his chest, my thighs clamped tight against his hips. I’m spread wide open, my pussy stretched around his searing thickness.

  “Fuck, Emerson,” he rasps.

  “Oh, yes.” I begin rocking my hips. “That’s exactly the plan.”

  Sometime later i pad out of the bathroom, surprised to find Reyes out of bed and yanking on his pants. His jaw is clenched tight and his eyes are dark with anger.

  I frown at him. “What’re you doing?”

  “Leaving.”

  “But—” My phone buzzes on the nightstand, drawing my attention.

  I cross the room and pick it up, cringing when I see a series of text messages from Braxton.

  Hey Emerson. You’re probably fast asleep by now, which is just as well. I might have lost my nerve if you’d picked up the phone.

  I want to thank you again for accompanying me to the party tonight. I know it probably wasn’t the most enjoyable experience for you. My family can be a bit overbearing at times, and Reyes was his usual obnoxious self.

  Despite those unpleasantries, I really enjoyed your company. You’re the most captivating woman I’ve ever met. You’re beautiful and intelligent, and I think I’m starting to fall for you. I know we just met, but I’ve admired you from afar for a very long time. I truly hope there’s a future for us. Call me tomorrow. Goodnight and sweet dreams, Emerson Sartori.

  I spin around to stare at Reyes. “Did you read these texts?”

  He ignores me, the muscles in his back rippling as he shrugs into his shirt and buttons it with controlled movements.

  My heart twists with frustration and guilt. “Reyes . . .”

  “I didn’t realize you and Braxton had gotten so close,” he says coldly.

  “We’re not,” I exclaim, exasperated.

  He sits on the bed to put his shoes on.

  I set my phone down and walk around to him. “Reyes, listen to me—”

  “Poor Braxton,” he mockingly laments. “Does he know about your problem yet, Emerson?”

  “What problem?”

  “Your fear of commitment. The fact that every man who lets himself fall in love with you ends up with a broken heart. That fucking problem.”

  I swallow painfully and smooth my robe down with trembling hands.

  “I’ve always been a glutton for punishment when it comes to you.” He shoves to his feet, glaring down at me. “Maybe one day I’ll finally get a fucking clue.”

  As he heads out of the room, I hurry after him, lightheaded with desperation. “Reyes, wait! There’s nothing between me and Braxton!”

  “That’s what makes you so dangerous. He barely knows you and he’s already head over heels.” Reaching the front door, Reyes looks over his shoulder at me with bitter resignation. “Be merciful to him, Emerson. Plunge the dagger deep and quick before he has a chance to start dreaming of white picket fences, adorable kids and rambunctious dogs.” A sardonic smile crosses his lips. “Too bad I couldn’t be so lucky.”

  My heart constricts. “Reyes, please—”

  He turns and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

  I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob, but it spills out anyway.

  Racked with pain and frustration, I slide down against the door, drop my face in my hands and burst into inconsolable tears.

  Chapter Seventeen

  EMERSON

  I hear will and troy bickering as I approach the sports department’s bullpen on Monday morning. The other reporters are banging away at their keyboards or talking loudly on the phone as ESPN blares from the television.

  Everyone’s attention shifts to me as I weave through the maze of desks toward my cubicle. As the Gazette’s only female sportswriter, I’ve always been pretty conspicuous. Since my viral interview with Reyes, my visibility has increased a thousandfold.

  “Good morning, Emerson,” Will says in a teasing tone.

  My eyes narrow suspiciously. “Don’t even—”

  “Reyes and Emerson sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

  As the bullpen erupts in laughter, I flip everyone off and stalk into my cubicle, wishing I had a door to slam.

  Dropping into my chair, I bang my coffee cup down and toss my handbag in the bottom desk drawer.

  “Fellas giving you a hard time?”

  I look up to find Lon standing at my cubicle with an amused expression.

  I grunt. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Chuckli
ng, he walks in and perches a hip on the corner of my desk, folding his arms across his chest. “I hear you went to the U.S. attorney’s shindig on Saturday night. How was it?”

  I force a shrug. “It was all right.”

  Lon raises his eyebrows. “Nothing scandalous to report? You didn’t witness any backroom deals? Didn’t hear any outlandish campaign promises?”

  “Nope.” I grin wryly. “I’m sure he’ll save those for his campaign fundraisers—the ones reporters aren’t invited to.”

  Lon grins. “You might get an invitation from one of those Malone boys. They’re rather fond of you, aren’t they? First Reyes shows up here to take you out to dinner, then the U.S. attorney’s heir apparent follows suit.” Lon strikes a thoughtful pose. “Maybe I should assign you to politics as well as sports. That way you can get the inside scoop on our next governor and the Renegades’ QB. What do you say?”

  “No, thanks,” I mutter. “If I never attend another political function it’ll be too soon. Nice try though.”

  He chuckles. “Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

  In his late thirties, Lon has curly dark hair and twinkling brown eyes behind stylish black frames. He runs the sports department with ruthless efficiency, demanding hard work and excellence from his writers.

  “All kidding aside,” he says, scratching behind his ear, “I have to address the elephant in the room.”

  I instinctively tense. I know what’s coming.

  “On a strictly personal level, I think it’s awesome that you and Reyes have reconnected after all these years. Believe it or not, I’m a sucker for a good love story.” Lon gives me a rueful look. “Unfortunately, if you and Reyes are dating, I might have to reassign someone else to the NFL beat to avoid any pesky conflict of interest accusations.”

  My stomach plummets. “I covered him objectively in high school.”

  “This isn’t high school.”

  “I know.” My shoulders sag dejectedly. “I understand what you’re saying.”

  He makes a pained face. “You’ve established a great rapport with the Renegades. The coaches and players like you and trust you. Even when you’re critical of them, they don’t penalize you for it. I’d hate to lose that relationship—”