“Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ, Tracey,” I whisper over and over.
“I know. Stupid. So stupid. You thought I wasn’t afraid of anything. I was the biggest coward ever. How could I let a person as heartless and empty as Sean and the insensitive people I thought were my friends drive me to the point where I took a swan dive to rock bottom? I was supposed to be smarter, stronger. I hated the girl I’d become. It was so bad. When I look back at it now all I can see is how he was so not worth it, but it was more than what he did. It was the cruelty of so many people around me afterward. I was so…disheartened, so broken by the way the people I thought were my friends treated me. I didn’t want to die. I only wanted the pain to stop.
“I’m not that person anymore. I would never do anything so stupid again. But I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted anything to do with me.” Her words keep catching in her throat on short gasps.
“Oh baby.” I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe what you had to go through. I wish I had known you then so I could be there for you. I’m here now. You’re not stupid and you’re sure as shit not a coward. You’re the smartest, bravest person I know. You loved the fucker. People do crazy things for love.”
“Did I love him? I thought I did. But how can I be smart if I fell for all his lies and then made the stupid choices I did afterward?”
She doesn’t wait for me to answer; for me to tell her some guys hold superpowers at being dishonest motherfuckers and no one, not even the smartest person, has the ability to see through their Kryptonite of lies.
“Thank God my sister came home earlier than she was supposed to. She found me and rushed me to the hospital. They weren’t sure they could save me at first. After they did, I promised myself I would never give anyone the opportunity to hurt me again, never allow myself to be used again or think anyone was worth giving up my self-esteem or my life.”
When her gaze meets mine again, I sweep my thumb over her cheeks to brush away the tears trailing down her face.
“Anyway, I worked through a lot of this, becoming a stronger person every day. Even so, I’m still sacrificing a part of myself to the aftereffects of Sean and I don’t want to anymore.”
“I’m not sure I get what you mean.”
“I told you last night I haven’t been with anyone for…well…for a long time. The truth is, I haven’t…since that night with Sean and Kyle.”
“That was like…”
“Over a year ago.”
“No one? For over a year?”
“No. I was too afraid to. I didn’t want to let anyone get close again. I couldn’t let myself trust anyone. I…I couldn’t let anyone touch me.”
“What…what do you mean you couldn’t let anyone touch you?”
Please tell me she’s speaking metaphorically?
“What do you think I mean? You know…fingers, hands, skin, touching.”
“But…but you let me touch you last night.”
“I know. Crazy right? The guy I thought was the biggest super douche a few days ago turns out to be the only one in over a year I can let touch me.”
“I…wait…you thought I was a super douche? I mean …shit. I’m so sorry.”
I want to hold her in my arms, but now I’m afraid to touch her. I should be able to understand. It was a long time before I could put myself out there after Abbey. But Abbey was sweet and kind and loved me. This Sean dude is nothing but a real dickhole. Although I get it was a traumatic experience and loss for Trace too. She loved the fucker, even if he did turn out to be the world’s biggest prick. In my case, when I lost Abbey I hadn’t lost my trust in other people because of her death. If anything, I had lost trust in myself. I didn’t want to be with anyone else for a while because I missed Abbey so much and blamed myself for her death. I wasn’t afraid to be touched. Fear of being touched is a whole other level of trauma.
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to understand. The whole thing with Sean had me screwed up for a long time. I don’t want to give him one more minute of my happiness. I gave him enough of my past, I’m not going to give him my future too. I want to move on. So…I asked for your help.”
She hasn’t let anyone touch her—couldn’t let anyone touch her—for over a year and now she wants me to be the one to help her by having sex with her. Christ. I know she didn’t mind me touching her last night. But why do I deserve her trust over every other guy out there?
Sure, I know all the ways to please a woman, but am I capable of helping Trace overcome her fears? I’ve never been with anyone who requires that kind of sensitivity. I don’t do sensitivity or feelings. My mind is racing, trying to process this latest revelation. She must read the perplexed look on my face because she says, “It’s okay. I get why you said no. I’m sure one of these days I’ll find someone I can trust again. I waited this long. I can wait a little longer. For now, I’m glad we’re friends.”
Fucking hell. She’s going to go out there to find some other asshole to fuck her back to happy. She may be one of the smartest people I know, but she’s naïve as shit when it comes to guys. I’m sure there’ll be no problem finding some douche who will be more than happy to offer the use of his dick to fuck away her fears. But he won’t care about her and what she needs. He won’t notice the vulnerability and longing in her eyes and she’ll end up feeling even worse than she does now.
She definitely needs a friend like me to protect her from the Dick Ways of the Douchebag Human Male. If that’s not a handbook already in existence I may need to write it so every sweet, unsuspecting woman out there can use it as a guide.
She looks up at me and in the glow of the lantern light I can see the shimmering hopeful longing in those beautiful eyes. I can’t stop myself from scooping her into my arms and onto my lap.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m here, baby. I don’t know what I did to earn your trust, but whatever it is, I promise you, I’ll never do anything to abuse that trust. I’ll never do anything to hurt you. You’re incredible, you know that? Beautiful and smart and sweet. You deserve to be held and touched and treated like the goddess you are. If you want me to be the one to do that for you, I’m here.”
She stares at me and blinks a couple of times, like she needs my words to sink in. “I…I…wow…that was …kind of beautiful.”
Her brows pinch in confusion, like she can’t believe those words came out of my mouth. She’s staring at me again with those sparkling eyes. And damn, my mind is starting to shut down. My need to fuck her right this second has taken over every fiber of my body. But this isn’t about me, this is about Trace. I’ve got to take this slow and show her the level of worship she deserves from a guy.
The tension seeps out of her as she melts against my chest. I keep rocking her in my arms. The tsunami of tears she can no longer hold back are saturating my shirt. I’d hold her forever if it would erase her past experience. I can’t find the right words to make this better. In fact more words might not be what she needs right now anyway. We’ve shared all our past nightmares.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Tracey
Dak keeps stroking my hair and whispering things to soothe me, telling me not to cry. The comfort washing over me from his gentle touch is making me cry even harder. No one has touched me like this for so long. No. Wait. No one has ever touched me like this. It’s strange how comfortable I feel with him in such a short time.
I tried to date once before in the past year. The guy was nice enough, but when he wanted to take things a little further I panicked and told him I couldn’t see him anymore. With Dak, I find every time he touches me, I don’t want to back away. I want to lean into him and let him touch me…everywhere.
The irony hasn’t escaped me. The one person I can trust to get this close to is Dak Andersen. A few days ago I thought I hated him, and now we’ve both trusted each other with things we’ve never told anyone else. Who would have thought I’d be crying in D
ak Andersen’s arms and he’d be comforting me? Life is weird and wonderful all at the same time.
“Let’s get this project done.” He gently slides me off his lap and picks up his laptop from behind us on the bed.
“You…you want to do schoolwork? Like now? I thought you…we…”
“You kill me, Bambi. There you go with that dirty little mind of yours again,” he teases.
At first, I’m confused, then I get what he’s doing. He’s easing the somber mood after everything we shared and is trying to relax me, maybe both of us.
“What do you want to do? Strip naked and have your way with me?” He grins.
Uh, yes please.
“I thought you said—”
“Let’s take this slow. One step at a time, okay?” He runs his fingers down my arm and gives me his heart-stopping half grin and dammit, I tremble like he claimed happens whenever he touches me.
Slow? Really?
It’s already been over a year without the warm touch of human hands on me and after the way he touched me last night, I don’t know if I can wait another second.
He toes off his shoes and moves away from me, sliding up on the bed and leaning against the headboard, propping his computer on his knees.
“Oookay then. I guess we’re going to record data. You sure know how to show a girl an exciting evening, Dakota Andersen.” I join him at the head of the bed after pushing off my sneakers and prop my computer on my knees too.
“Be careful what you wish for, baby doll.” He smirks, balances his computer on his knees, and then pulls his shirt up over his head and tosses it onto the floor. “It was kind of wet,” he says without looking at me.
Oh. My. Freaking. Word. Does he expect me to focus on the density of ocean water when all I can think about is the density of his roped abs and…and other dense, hard things?
“I think we should enter the water sample data in first,” he says like he’s read my mind. “What format should we use?”
“Um…I’ve already got a lab spreadsheet set up. We can enter the info on it. It’s more organized.” I boot up my computer and try to get my mind to focus on Marine Bio instead of the Anatomy of Dakota 101.
“Wow. You’ve already got scientific spreadsheets set up? I never had to use them before.”
“Well, I have used them before for graduate research, but you’re just a wittle, bitty boy, so you haven’t needed them, yet.”
Two can play at this game of ignoring the 900-pound should we or shouldn’t we fuck gorilla in the room.
“Real nice, Bambi. You know you’re about two seconds away from being put over my knee for a good spanking, right?” he teases.
“Hmmph. Promises, promises,” I mumble but don’t look at him. Game on. My fingers fly across the keyboard, though I have no idea what the hell I’m typing. I may have entered in data showing the water temperatures around Mount Desert Island match those in Aruba.
I give him a sideways glance and note he’s staring at me now. He leans in and brushes his lips along my neck. Oh God. I close my eyes and will myself not to overreact.
“Where’s the notebook with the water temps at different depths?” I ask, ignoring his kiss. Pushing my computer off my lap, I crawl down the bed to rummage through the notebooks I had taken out of my backpack earlier.
Only when I hear Dak groan do I realize my spandex-covered ass is up in the air right in front of his face. Something hits the floor with a crash and I turn to see him sweeping all the notebooks off the bed.
He grabs my hips and flips me over and then crawls over me like a panther about to claim his prey. I’m trembling so hard with lust, but even more with nerves, I grip the comforter under me to try to hold myself steady.
When I was with Sean, it was like I handed him all the power, all the control over me. When he broke the trust I had in him, it broke something inside of me—the ability to allow myself to be this vulnerable.
Yet here I am, leaving myself susceptible again. “What…what are you doing? I thought you said we had to get the research done.” My voice comes out all squeaky, like a scared little mouse.
Okay so he’s better at this game of cat and mouse then I am.
“Yeah. We need to get it done,” he whispers and licks my neck. My eyelids close and I drop my head back, arching my neck in an inadvertent invitation to his tongue.
“I…I thought you said we should take it s-slow.” He’s barely touched me, but I’m quivering like it’s my first time.
Technically it is my first time with Dak. I’m not counting the sleep-muddled episode which occurred last night. The way he’s consuming me with those scorching eyes, there’s no doubt I’m wide awake right now.
“Oh, we’re going to take it slow. Nice and slow. You tell me if you want me to stop. I’ll only do what you feel comfortable with.” His eyes are filled with more than hungry lust. Along with desire, there’s warmth and concern. I’m overcome with something other than nervousness. Excitement and anticipation.
“So, a year since you’ve had any release. That can’t be healthy. We need to take care of that,” he says against my skin, and resumes trailing kisses down my neck.
“I didn’t…mm…say there…there was no release.”
God. Can we hold the conversation?
“So?” Dak asks as he pulls his head back and looks into my eyes. “What’ya do?”
“Seriously?”
“I’m curious what kind of experience I’m working with here.” He gives me a slight smile, but not his usual sly grin. This time his smile is sweet and matches the concern in his eyes.
“If you must know, I have a very cooperative vibrator.”
“A vibrator. No shit?” The twinkle in his eyes and mischievous grin are back.
“Yes, and I recently gave him the fond name Jackass.” I flutter my lashes and smirk back at him.
“Is that right? I might have to meet my rival and see what he can do.”
Any residual unpleasant thoughts of Sean vanish when Dak slips his hand under my sweater, trailing his fingers up toward my already throbbing breasts. I buck under him at the intimate invasion.
“Is this okay?” His tone becomes apprehensive and his hand stops just under the swell of my breast. “Should I stop?”
“Yes…I mean…yes it’s good. Please don’t stop.” He slides his hand out from under my sweater anyway and pushes up, resting back on his feet, his knees on either side of me.
Damn. Is he afraid to touch me now? I may explode into a million needy pieces if he doesn’t do something right this second. What can I say? After a year, as much as I love my baby pink vibrator, it’s nothing next to all the hot things Dak has going on.
“Lift your head up a little.” I follow his instruction. His hands slide under my sweater again and he pulls the sweater over my head and tosses it on the floor. I’m wearing the same red lace bra he saw me in the first day at the rink. He licks his lips.
Electric heat pulses through me from the craving in his eyes. My senses take over and my hips push up, begging him for what I need. He uses the opportunity to hook his fingers into the waist of my leggings and slide them off me He sits back again and sets me on fire with his heavy-lidded glare.
“Fuck. I haven’t been able to get the sight of you in those little pieces of red lace out of my mind since that day in the locker room. You’re so beautiful. I got hard every time I thought of you standing there in them.”
“You…thought about me?” My voice is so raspy I barely recognize it.
“Oh yeah I thought about you. About kissing you, touching you, tasting you. I can’t get you out of my head,” he whispers and crawls up over me again.
He slides his hand under my back and with what I’m sure is well-practiced dexterity unhooks my bra. “Is this okay?” I nod, because I’m sure at this point I may only babble if I try to speak.
My brain no longer has the ability to form coherent words. I’m on sensory overload. He slips my bra down my arms and pushes i
t to the side. When I gasp at the cool rush of air across my tightened nipples he bends his head down and presses his lips to mine, moving his tongue into my parted lips. My tongue sweeps over his and his kiss deepens. It becomes hungry, ravenous. I respond with the same greedy exploration of his mouth and tongue.
I love the way Dak kisses, like he can’t get enough of tasting me. Like I’m the only one who can satisfy his need. I’m on fire. I may come before he even touches me again.
Running my hands down his chest, I trace the lines of his toned muscles. When my fingers sweep over his nipples they pucker in response and heat pools at my core. I push my hips up into him. I can feel the hard ridge pressing against my thigh through his jeans. My body is screaming for him to be inside of me, but he continues his slow, sensual exploration. He pulls his mouth from mine and moves his lips down my neck, chest, and stomach, kissing and licking, leaving a trail of goose bumps along my skin as he goes.
“Oh, God. Dakota,” I moan.
“You good?” He tilts his head up, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and concern.
“So good,” I manage to breathe out in a murmur.
“I’m going to kiss and lick and taste every inch of you.” He drops his head and whispers against my skin between the demonstration of those licks and kisses and I lift my head to watch.
Watching him move in a sensual, languid pace down my body may be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen or experienced. “I’m going to worship you with my mouth. Are you okay with that?” He glances up from under his dark lashes.
Oh yeah. I’m so okay with that.
“Completely,” I sigh out and he lets out a throaty chuckle.
When his tongue brushes across my nipple, I drop my head back, consumed by mixed sensations of longing and euphoria.
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