Caveman: A Single Dad Next Door Romance

by Jo Raven

  I frown. We’re going to visit her aunt tomorrow at the hospital. I know Dakota is sad, that she loves her aunt a lot. “You said she’s an adventurous woman.”

  “That what got you worried?” She winks at me.

  I shrug. “Maybe a little.”

  That’s a lie. Whatever Dakota cooks is delicious. All those aunts are pure geniuses. Not that I’m picky with food. If I was, I’d have starved since an early age at the foster homes and group homes. Sometimes the only food for weeks on end was stale bread and moldy cheese or old pizza. When I was on the streets, it was greasy burgers, and fries and other things I don’t even wanna think about.

  But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate something good.

  Take my childhood, for instance. It was fucked-up. Everyone I trusted screwed me over, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell how amazing Dakota is.

  How good she is for me.

  So I let her draw me to the table and push me into a chair, then watch as she serves the food into two chipped bowls and nukes them in the microwave. When she turns to place a spoon and a fork in front of me, I put my hand over hers on the table.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “What for?” She smiles, and I want to kiss her so bad. My body has been kinda dead to the world since I returned from the hospital, but now it perks up, taking new interest in the proceedings.

  “Thank you for bringing me back.” I draw a long breath, because saying these things ain’t easy. “For sticking with me when I freaked out or drank too much, or…” I wince. “Or when I asked you to do things you weren’t comfortable with.”

  “Like?”

  I open my mouth, close it. Seriously? I need to spell it out? “Like doing you against the wall and not letting you hold me.”

  She licks her lips, leans in closer. “I said I trust you. And once I got over my own fears, I have to tell you…” She brushes her mouth over my ear, making me shudder. “That was hot.”

  “Come here.” I drag her onto my lap and bite down a groan as her sweet ass settles over my hard-on. “That was hot, huh?” Shit, she’s killing me with her admission. Makes me feel what I wanted wasn’t so bad, after all. Wasn’t so weird. “Also thank you for helping me break through the stupid shit in my head.”

  “Stupid shit?” She arches a fine dark brow and straddles me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “Yeah.” I fight the jerk-knee reaction I get when her hands settle over my burn scars. “The shit that wouldn’t let me kiss you, hold you like this, and see your face as we get down and dirty.”

  “Dirty,” she whispers and presses her breasts to my chest, completely derailing my thoughts. “I like that, too.”

  Fuck, I want her. Her scent, her softness, her voice, her mouth, her warmth… Want her so bad. It’s not just my dick, hard and aching. My whole body moves toward her, needing her touch.

  Bending forward, I crush our mouths together, thrust my tongue between her lips and almost come on the spot from her taste. She tangles her tongue with mine, distracting me from the instinctive panic flash that jerks my body when her hands knead my nape.

  Don’t sink into the past. This is Dakota, holding me, kissing me. Rolling her hips, grinding herself on my hard-on.

  Oh hell, yeah. My body isn’t up for much yet, but this… this feels awesome. I need…

  She breaks the kiss and lifts her skirt. Christ, she’s naked underneath. My mouth goes dry.

  “Guest rules,” she whispers and winks. “Want to do this my way today?”

  I should tell her she’s not a guest anymore, that this is her home. That I’m still not one hundred percent, and I don’t know how far I can go.

  My mouth opens and closes, but no words come. My balls throb just from looking at her parted folds as she straddles my lap. Smooth. Glistening with moisture.

  “Touch me,” she whispers, and fuck yeah, I can do that. I slide my hand down her side, over her smooth thigh and push a finger inside her. She moans as she clenches around me, and I’m panting with need. A wet spot is spreading on my crotch, and my cock twitches when she moans again.

  “Need to feel you inside me,” she breathes and puts a hand on my wrist, tugging until I pull my finger out of her. The scent of her arousal hits me, and I struggle to keep from coming.

  “Condom,” I whisper. No idea where I have them. My brain isn’t getting enough blood to function, because it’s all flowing to my throbbing dick.

  “I’m on the pill,” she says. “Just come inside me, Zane. Please.”

  No condom. Skin-to-skin.

  My brain finally catches up, and I reach down to unzip my pants. She beats me to it, undoing the fly and pushing them down my hips, together with my briefs. I almost weep with relief as my cock springs out, flushed, wet and so goddamn ready.

  “Trust me?” she asks, reaching down to touch me, and precum leaks from the slit on the head of my cock, running down the sides. I gasp for breath as I nod.

  Her way. What does that mean?

  “I’ll need to hold on to you,” she says. “To put my arms around your neck.”

  I swallow. When we kissed I was okay, but what if I freak out this time?

  Then again… Time to break down all barriers, give her everything. Try to fix myself for her, and for me. “Just hold on tight.”

  She gives me a brilliant smile that makes her eyes shine and wraps her hand around my dick. My hips lift as she guides me inside her, into her slick heat. I curse and groan, pushing upward, gripping her hips and pulling her down on me.

  Oh God. My brain shuts down completely, a blank illuminated by flashes of pure pleasure. Skin-to-skin feels fucking amazing. Never done it without a condom before. Never knew it’d feel like this. Holy shit.

  Then her arms inch up my chest and slowly, carefully slide around my neck. Despite my trust in her, despite everything, I space out for a second—or for what feels like a second—lost in a suffocating cloud of pain and fear. It closes in around me, pulling me under.

  The feel of her mouth on mine snaps me back to the here and now. Must be something magical in kissing, because suddenly everything comes into sharp focus—her taste, the pressure of her lips, her hard nipples rubbing on my chest, her tight heat around my dick.

  I deepen the kiss, licking her mouth, letting her know I’m here. All here. She moans against my lips and grabs the back of my neck as she starts to move. She’s fucking moving, sliding up and down my dick, tightening and releasing, a maddening, mind-blowing rhythm.

  Fire is licking my balls. I can feel my orgasm start at the root of my cock, the pressure building and building, faster and faster. She rolls her hips, does little circles, undulates her body, and my groan comes out strangled.

  She’s in full control. I’m hers. There’s nothing to do but let her ride me to mind-bending orgasm. I watch her face as she lets out these sexy little moans, as her eyes close and her lips part, as she starts to shake with her own release…

  And I can’t hold back any more. My eyes shut as I come with a yell, my back arching off the chair. She ripples around me, calls my name as I shake and pant. The pleasure is off the motherfucking scale as we move together, holding on to each other, trembling with the aftershocks.

  I don’t know what this is. All I know is nothing has ever felt so right in my life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dakota

  We’re supposed to leave for the hospital, visit Aunt Carolina. It’s ten AM, the sun is shining bright, and I’m ready to go. Dressed in a red blouse and ruffled black skirt—not all black, mom had said, please not today—I’m sitting on the sofa armrest, waiting for Zane.

  I check my watch, and worry starts nibbling at my insides. Call me crazy, but I can’t seem to be able to let him out of my sight for more than a few minutes before I go into panic mode. Stupid maybe. He’s been out of the hospital for almost a week now, and he’s doing fine. No dizzy spells anymore, no black-outs, no memory problems. I’ll get over it soon.

 
; Still…

  I hop off the sofa, head to the bedroom, and stick my head inside.

  My brows draw together. Zane is sitting on the bed, holding a sheaf of paper in his hands, staring at it.

  “Hey.” I pad over, and sit by his side. “What have you got…?”

  It’s my drawing of Zane, from when he was lying in a coma at the hospital. Well, one of the many I drew, which are now stacked next to him on the mattress.

  My heart pounds as I study the drawing. The slack face, the oxygen mask, his tattooed arms resting on the covers and all the magical creatures surrounding him. Protecting him. Fighting for him, because I couldn’t.

  “This is…” His voice is faint. “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah,” I whisper. Holy crap. Embarrassment heats up my face. I didn’t mean for him to see the drawings and feel especially stupid for all the dragons and spiders I covered the empty space with.

  I also feel bad for drawing him when he had no sense of his surroundings, without his permission. Then again, he’s looking at my stack without my permission, so I guess we’re even.

  “I needed something to do at the hospital while I waited for you to wake up,” I say. “Drawing calmed me down.”

  He shakes his head, then snags an arm around me waist and hauls me closer, so that our legs touch. “It’s really good. You have talent.”

  I nervously wipe a hand over my nose. “I can’t draw like you. Your drawings are awesome. Mine are like a three-year-old’s.”

  “Dakota.” His arm tightens. “I’m serious. This is fucking good, and…” His fingers clench on the paper. “And thank you. Can’t thank you enough.”

  I nod and put my arms around his waist. I rest my head on his shoulder, looking down at the drawing.

  “Did I really have dragons and spiders floating around me?” He shakes me lightly, and I smile.

  “It’s white magic. I called on them for their help.” Yeah, talk about feeling stupid about it now. “You said they bring luck.”

  “I did.” He smoothes a finger over a fire-breathing dragon. “Is that why you want a dragon tattoo?”

  The answer isn’t simple. I’m silent for a beat, considering my words. “I don’t think I need one anymore.”

  He looks at me, his dark eyes curious. “What changed?”

  Everything. I try to expand that one word into more. “I don’t need a symbol to tell me what I know. I don’t need others to know, as long as I know it.” I lick my lips. “And I have you.”

  He grins at that and plants a kiss on my brow. “I vow to protect you from the monsters.”

  “You’d better.”

  He snorts and lifts the drawing higher, studying it. “Well, I’m glad you don’t want a dragon anymore.”

  “Big surprise,” I grumble and pout. “Can’t count all the times I asked and was denied. Bastard.”

  He snorts. “Yeah, well. That doesn’t mean you’ll escape my tattoo gun.”

  What? I gape at him. “You’ll ink me?”

  His eyes darken, and a positively wicked gleam fills them. “Damn right I will. But I have a different design in mind.”

  “What? What design?”

  But he drops the drawing and lifts me to my feet. “I’ll show you later. Now we’re late. Let’s go.”

  Somehow my family was notified that I’m bringing a special guest with me, and to Aunt Carolina’s great pleasure, they have all gathered at the hospital to meet him. In the corridor outside her room, there’s lots of laughter and enthusiastic thumping on backs and air-kissing going on as I greet my countless aunts and uncles, cousins, nephews and nieces, grand-uncles and grand-aunts.

  “So where’s the young man?” Grand-aunt Nebraska demands to know. She’s five-foot-tall, including the hair piled on top of her head like a coiled python. She waves her walking cane to get my attention, and everyone jumps back before they get hit.

  Uncle Nelson crashes into a nurse and starts laughing. His booming laughter is notorious in the family, and it sets off several of my younger cousins. I giggle, and turn to look for Zane.

  He’s standing farther back, where I left him earlier, his eyes round.

  Yeah… Maybe I should have warned him about my family, but I honestly had no idea so many members would be here.

  I walk back to him and take his hand. “Everybody, this is Zane. Zane, this is my crazy family.”

  “Who you calling crazy?” my cousin Dalton crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue. “Don’t listen to her, Z. She’s nuts.”

  “Nuts. He said nuts!” Aunt Virginia giggles.

  “Oh Lordy,” Aunt Alaska mutters and rolls her eyes.

  Okay, so I have a lot of aunts living in the area. And judging from Zane’s still slack jaw, they are quite a sight.

  Or maybe it’s my cousins he’s gaping at? Well, they’re a sight, too. All of them have their hair dyed in crazy colors, some going for the full rainbow spectrum.

  Then I look up at his hair, tamer than ever before, but still a bright blue in the center, and smile. He’ll fit right in.

  “Come in, Zane,” my seven-year-old cousin Cora says and links her arm with Zane’s, dragging us both into the room. “Time to meet the famous Aunt Carolina.”

  “Famous?” Zane asks.

  “She traveled to China and Japan and to Africa!” Cora proclaims. “She stayed with the Masari!”

  “The Masai,” I correct absently as we approach the bed.

  I swallow past a knot in my throat when Aunt Carolina opens her arms. I let go of Zane and hug her gently.

  “Sweet girl,” she says and holds me for a long minute. “Missed you.”

  “Missed you, too,” I whisper. “Sorry I couldn’t come earlier.”

  “Ah.” She pats my back and lets me go. “I would have waited.”

  My eyes fill with tears, and I struggle not to let them fall. Zane takes my hand and then, as if realizing my struggle, pulls me flush against him and puts an arm around me.

  “Ah, Zane.” Aunt Carolina grins toothily, and her small eyes crinkle with pleasure. “I’ve heard about you.”

  “You have?” Zane looks horrified, and it makes me laugh.

  “No, I’m lying through my teeth. But now you can tell me all about yourself. Come here, let me look at you.” She beckons at him regally. “He sure is good-looking, Koty, my girl. Not enough color on him, though. Get him to dye his hair something more striking, will you? Pink, maybe?”

  Zane sputters, and I double over with laughter.

  “Come sit here, boy.” Aunt Carolina pats the bed by her side. “My eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.”

  Zane sits down cautiously and flinches only slightly when my aunt grabs his hand and squeezes it.

  “Strong man. I like that. Nice ink, too. Love the piercings.”

  Zane just blinks. I guess he must be in shock.

  My parents choose that moment to arrive, and I’m distracted from the Aunt Carolina/Zane show to greet them and be pulled into hugs.

  When I next glance toward the bed, I find Zane laughing. I stare at him, trying to determine if he’s hysterical or just amused.

  Amused, I decide when he bends down to whisper something in my aunt’s ear, and they cackle together like demented teenagers. I’m dying to know what he’s telling her. Dying to pull him out of here, so I can have him to myself again.

  Crap, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.

  Until now.

  “So…” Zane unlocks the door and pulls me into the apartment, then slips his arms around me and walks me backward toward the sofa.

  “So…?” I’m a bit nervous, wondering what he thought of my family. He seemed to get along fine with my mad relatives, but who knows what’s going on inside his head?

  “So, what’s the deal with the water?”

  I blink, at a loss. “Water?”

  “And falling.” He marches me backward until the back of my legs hits the sofa, and then he’s lowering me on it, bending over me. His ar
ms tighten around me, so that I’m suspended for a moment over the cushions, before he gently settles me on top.

  “I…” He’s propped with one arm on the backrest, the other next to my head, gazing down at me. His eyes are soft with curiosity, velvet black. In the late afternoon light seeping through the window, the strong line of his jaw and his dark brows are deep shadows, his mouth a tempting curve.

  “See, I’ve met your family, and they’re fucking crazy. Good people. They didn’t mistreat you. You’re not sick and dying. Apart from the small surgical scars on your back and right arm, I don’t see any evidence of violence. So I’m missing something.” He lowers his face until his lips brush my cheek. “Why the hell did you want a dragon tattoo? I’d say you were just teasing me, but there’s more, isn’t there?”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “You don’t scare easily. In fact, you’re fearless.” He gazes at me solemnly, not asking. Stating a fact. I like his conviction, even though it’s not true. “You have to be, to be with me.”

  “I’m not fearless.”

  “You’re afraid of falling…and of water.” He’s still gazing at me, and it’s like a warm caress. “You said someone pushed you. An ex-boyfriend.”

  “Collin. My ex-boyfriend.”

  His eyes narrow, and his mouth flattens. “But it doesn’t explain why you’re so scared of the water. Something happened to you, babe. What was it?”

  Babe. I smile. I’m not fond of pet names, but it sounds so good, coming from him. It grounds me, reminds me it’s time I told him everything. Not just because I owe him for opening up to me as he did, but because I want him to know all about me.

  Besides… We’re now marked by one experience in common. We’ve both survived it and are here now, together.

  Zane lowers himself by my side, an elbow planted on the sofa, the other coming to rest over my stomach. “You okay?”

  “You want to know why I stay away from the lake when we go to the park and from the pools at pool parties,” I whisper. “Why I freaked out when I was almost dropped into the pool. Why I’m so scared if nobody tried to drown me when I was a child.”