Hope Falls: Treasured Kiss (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Virna DePaul

He stripped off his shirt and pants and left on his boxers before lying down next to her. There was a two-inch gap between their bodies that she took care of by backing her body up into his. Another frustrated growl escaped his throat as he put his arm over her waist and rested it on her flat, warm belly. Her skin felt like satin and she smelled so fucking good. He let his lips brush against the side of her face.

  “Dara…”

  Her chest and back rose and fell slowly and rhythmically.

  She was already asleep.

  This time he pressed his lips into the soft, fragrant skin on the side of her neck and whispered, “Sweet dreams.” He was so turned on that he physically ached. He’d never held an almost-naked woman without having sex with her, and he’d definitely never held one that looked and felt this good.

  It was going to be a long night.

  ***

  When Dara opened her eyes, it was still dark out. Thankfully, the bright lights of Vegas never turned off, and there was just enough illumination peeking through the curtains for her to realize that she wasn’t alone. Bracing herself on one elbow, she peered at the man lying next to her.

  Alder.

  Alder, the MMA fighter she’d coaxed into playing stripper. Afterward, he’d walked her to her room and…

  It came back to her, memories doused in a slight alcoholic haze. Her cheeks heated.

  She’d tried to seduce him, and although he’d resisted having sex with her, he’d finally agreed to stay. At her insistence.

  She was glad he hadn’t taken advantage of her inebriated state, but at the same time, getting turned down by a guy as hot as Alder at any point was beyond embarrassing. And now he was asleep in her hotel bed. Should she wake him up? Leave for a while and hope he’d be gone by the time she came back?

  But fate had a different idea. Alder’s eyes blinked open. Then he smiled. “Did my snoring wake you up?”

  She laughed nervously, then bit her lip. If she were wise, she’d ask him to leave, go back to sleep, and then act like none of this had ever happened. She could just remember the lovely kisses they’d shared, and sigh over the fact that nothing beyond that had occurred. But as the lights from the strip scattered over Alder’s face and body, her own logical mind turned to mush.

  She wanted him. And she was 100% sober right now—would he turn her away again? A chill ran through her at the thought, but he could’ve left at any time already. He hadn’t.

  A daring, almost reckless yearning filled her, and she reached out and caressed his arm. Then his chest.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  She shivered, leaning toward him. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”

  “It feels like you’re trying to get your sweet little ass underneath me.” He finally touched her, cupping her cheek in his large, callused hand. “But I don’t sleep with drunk girls, sweetheart.”

  Dara smiled. “Good thing I’m not drunk. Not anymore. Completely sober. So sober that now you have no excuse to—how did you phrase it?—‘get my sweet ass underneath you.’”

  Her touch grew bolder, moving downward as she marveled at his hardened, delineated abdomen. Her mind could hardly believe that Alder was not only in her bed, but groaning at her touch. Emboldened, she kissed his sternum, licking his salty skin.

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. “You sure about this?” he asked again.

  “If you ask me one more time,” she responded with a nip to his collarbone, “I’m going to kick your sweet ass out of here.”

  He laughed, and she felt the laugh, with her cheek against his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

  That’s when he pulled her up and kissed her.

  It wasn’t like the kiss in the elevator. This wasn’t an attempt at seduction. This was seduction: pure, heady, and so delicious Dara moaned at the mere contact of their lips. He tightened his hold on her hair, tipping her head back, ravishing her mouth like he was starving. He wasn’t going to ask permission again—he took and took, and she reveled in it.

  “Open for me,” he said. “Open that sweet little mouth.”

  She hesitated—made him wait—but then he tweaked her nipple and she gasped. He took the invitation, invading her mouth like a marauder. His tongue twisted around hers, and she could only clutch at his shoulders.

  They kissed until she ended up underneath him, his mouth moving across her body. He played with her breasts, but soon unhooked her bra and tossed it somewhere into the hotel room. She giggled, but the giggle turned into a moan when he latched onto her nipple. He massaged her other nipple as his mouth sucked at her, her breasts hot and heavy from his ministrations.

  “You are amazing. I wanted to see these beauties the second I saw you.” He licked the underside of her breasts.

  At Alder’s husky words, her body blossomed. Heated. She arched against him, wordlessly telling him to continue. She’d become only sensation and nothing else: no thoughts about if she should or shouldn’t be doing this. No thoughts about the morning after. Nothing but Alder’s mouth on her skin, biting and nipping and licking and sucking.

  He made his way to her panties, which he stripped off of her before she’d even noticed he was doing it. He parted her legs, and she already knew she was wet. She’d been wet since he’d kissed her in the elevator, and now having him touch her like this? She was about to combust. Clenching her fists into the sheets, she arched her hips up against him.

  He slicked two fingers between her folds, and he swore as he felt how wet she was. Trembling and on the edge, Dara didn’t know how much longer she could last with him touching her so gently. “Alder,” she moaned.

  “I got you,” he said in a low voice. “I got you.” He traced her folds, working her juices throughout, his thumb just dipping inside of her.

  She closed her eyes and just felt. She felt as he petted her, making her go insane. He murmured compliments, using words like pretty and pink and slick. He told her his intentions, using words like long and deep and hard. And when she was frantic and about to push his head down to show him exactly what she wanted, he leaned down, fastening his mouth on her clit.

  She mewled—mewled! She’d never heard a sound like that come out of her mouth, but as Alder licked at her clit, she didn’t care how she sounded. That was when he thrust his index finger inside of her, and the combination of his fingers and the suction of his mouth brought her right to the edge until she exploded. Wetness burst from her, and she could hear him groan against her as he lapped at her orgasm. Her body shuddered—full-body shudders—until she felt like her bones had melted.

  She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move. She giggled at how amazing she felt. Her pussy still pounded from the orgasm that had started there, and if he touched her again like that? She’d come a second time.

  When she flipped over, about to go rifle in her purse, Alder slung an arm over her waist.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his hot breath making her neck prickle. “We’re not done yet.”

  She poked him, and he moved off of her. When she returned to the bed, she handed him a condom—thank God Susan had given them as gag gifts at the party!—and she said, “Whoever said we were done?”

  ***

  Alder’s eyebrows rose as he stared at the condom packet Dara held up—the foil packet glowed in the dim light. Holy hell, he hadn’t even given a thought to protection, that’s how distracted he’d been by the feel and taste of Dara’s sweet body. Granted, he probably would have remembered before he got inside her, but he also had his doubts. Thank God she’d been thinking clear enough for both of them.

  “You’re my kind of girl, sweetheart.” He stripped off his boxers, and then promptly ripped open the condom packaging. Sheathing his throbbing cock in the condom, he climbed over Dara. “You ready for round two?” he asked, kissing her neck, letting his cock brush her still soaked pussy.

  She gasped a little at his cock brushing her clit. “I need you inside me.” Her voice was
desperate, so breathy that Alder hardened even more.

  She was incredible. He hadn’t been lying that he’d been thinking about her—not just her tits, but her laugh and her curves and that dark brown hair—the second she first spoke to him. He’d had his share of women in his day, but something about her felt right.

  But any thoughts abated when she tipped her hips up, and the tip of his cock lodged inside her tight sheath. Taking hold of himself, he finally slid all the way in, going slowly so she could take him. He was on the large side, and he knew that women needed time to adjust to him more often than not. Dara, though, merely wound her arms around his neck and told him to fuck her.

  Well, who was he to say no to that?

  Pulling out, he thrust back in hard, building up a steady rhythm that made the bed squeak and the headboard bounce against the wall. He hooked her legs over his arms, opening her further to his relentless thrusts. Being inside of her was better than anything he’d ever experienced. He’d loved tasting her and feeling her come against his tongue, but this? He already felt his orgasm building into a tight ball, centered in his lower back. He’d come with a few more thrusts if he weren’t careful, and he wanted her to explode a second time first.

  He kissed her chest and her breasts, taking a nipple and sucking. She squealed, her body undulating against him. She was close—he could feel her tightening around him—and he muttered, “Come for me, sweetheart.”

  He thrust in and out of her, making sure to brush her clit each time. Her legs trembled underneath his arms, and as he bit down on her nipple, she exploded. Her sheath contracted around him; she screamed. He covered her mouth with his own to drown out the noise.

  Then he was coming, too, his balls contracting, his entire body going into a kind of pleasure overdrive. He emptied himself, thrusting with each wave of ecstasy until he finally collapsed on top of her.

  They both were breathing hard, like they’d run a race and had barely made it to the finish line in one piece. Alder pressed his mouth to hers, and they kissed for a while longer. He rolled off of her, but she kept her arms around his neck. She was so sweet, he thought, running his hands down her body, feeling the silk of her skin.

  The sun had begun to rise, and now he could make out Dara’s face when he pulled away from her. A sudden possessiveness filled him, and he had to stifle the urge to growl and take her away, hide her from every man who might so much as look at her. These curves, this smile, this silken hair, it was all his.

  But the logical part of him chastised the caveman in him. Wanting to ignore logic for now, he kept kissing her, watching how the dawn light played across her fair skin. She looked like a goddess: her hair long and mussed, her lips kiss-bruised and red, her body languid and well-loved. If he could, he’d make love to her all over again, right here and now.

  At the phrase “make love” once again invading his mind, his logical side came back in full force.

  He barely knew this girl; he had no idea where she was from, where she went to high school, if she’d gone to college, what she wanted to do with her life. Did he even know how old she was? Looking at her now, he was struck by how young she seemed. Not a line on her face, she had the skin of a woman who couldn’t be over the age of twenty-five. Had she even finished college yet? He groaned inwardly. What was he doing with a girl like this, who had her entire life ahead of her?

  Dara began tracing his face with her finger, and as she made her way down his body, she looked at each of his tattoos. She swirled a finger around a sword and shield on his upper arm. He waited for her to ask questions, but she remained silent. Normally he’d be grateful that she wasn’t asking—talking about his tattoos was an intimate thing—but for some reason, he wanted to talk to her about them. Tell her why he’d gotten the sword and shield, and the dove on his forearm, and the infinity sign on the back of his neck.

  That’s when he knew: he was in deep. Too deep. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be professing his undying love and taking her to nearest wedding chapel in Vegas to make it official.

  Taking her hand, he kissed her palm. Then he yawned. His yawning made her yawn, and they laughed.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” he said, burrowing into the pillows. Maybe with some sleep, he’d clear his head of all of these…feelings.

  She snuggled closer to him. Yawned again. And then as the morning light filled the room, they both let sleep claim them.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “There you are. I was beginning to think we’d be having brunch in bed instead of breakfast.”

  As soon as Dara heard the masculine voice, she remembered everything—the stripper flaking, her meeting Alder and asking him to take the stripper’s place, the sight of his beautiful body dancing at the party, and even better, that same body moving over her. Inside her.

  Despite being a modern girl who prided herself on her sexual adventurousness, Dara had never slept with a man she’d just met. However, instead of feeling an ounce of guilt or regret, she found herself smiling. Because Alder didn’t feel like a stranger. From the moment she’d first met him, she’d felt connected to him. And that hadn’t changed.

  She slowly turned to face Alder, who looked just as devastatingly handsome as ever, his hair mussed and sporting a five-o’clock shadow. His chest was broad and every muscle perfectly defined. The colorful tattoos on his arms stretched over the tops of biceps that rose up like mountains from his shoulders. “Good morning.”

  He grinned at her and reached up to move a long strand of hair out of her face. She loved the way his fingers felt against her skin and she started to close her eyes and lean into it…before it dawned on her what she must look like, but he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world and it was making her hot.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than I have in a long time thanks to you.”

  He laughed. “I’ll gladly take credit for something like that.”

  “I’ll gladly let you.”

  She reached out a hand, smoothed it over his chest, and saw his eyes flare. Encouraged, she started to lower her hand to dip it beneath the sheet, but he caught it and brought it up to his lips.

  When she frowned, he said, “Brunch, remember? Or rather, breakfast. I was thinking French toast would be great.”

  She’d been about to wrap her fingers around him and he was talking about French toast? Hadn’t last night been as wonderful for him as it had been for her? Suddenly swamped with insecurity, she withdrew her hand and sat up, pulling the sheet around her, even as Alder stood.

  She watched the ripple of muscles in his back as he moved across the room, retrieved a fluffy white robe, then brought it back over to her. He helped her slip it on and then helped her up off the bed, giving her a sweet peck on the forehead before sending her off in the direction of the bathroom.

  Confused, Dara felt like she was in a daze, even more so than when she’d been drinking. She closed the bathroom door and looked at herself in the mirror. A groan escaped her lips when she saw the state of her hair and the dark circles the make-up she’d fallen asleep in had made under her eyes. Oh, God. No wonder he was keeping his distance. Was he regretting their night together? Wondering why he’d been with her in the first place. Suddenly, she feared the only reason he’d stayed with her was because she’d begged him to, and then had attacked the poor guy in the middle of the night. She leaned over the sink and turning the water on cold, she began doing some damage control.

  Ten minutes later she emerged, if not looking her best, at least not looking like she’d been through the ringer. Most importantly, her breath was fresh and that cotton feeling in her mouth was gone. So was her headache. The aroma of coffee and potatoes was the first thing she noticed. Alder had put on the other robe and he was sitting back on the bed, propped against the headboard. There was a silver tray across his lap and when he saw her he patted the spot next to him with a smile. She supposed that was encouraging. After all, he could have already been dre
ssed and sitting at the small desk for their breakfast.

  Dara wasn’t sure she’d be able to stomach any food this morning, but the idea of coffee and a few more minutes snuggled next to Alder was definitely appealing. She went over and took the place in the bed next to him. He moved the tray over so it covered her lap and then he pulled the silver cover off the plate. The sight and smell of the eggs and sausage made her stomach lurch. He must have seen it on her face because he quickly covered it back up and moved it away.

  “We’ll just leave this over here while you have your coffee,” he said, sitting the plate on the nightstand next to him.

  “Thank you.” She dropped two sugar cubes in her coffee. She brought the steaming coffee cup to her lips and inhaled the delicious scent of it before taking a sip. The hot liquid felt good sliding down her throat. It took her mind off the fact that she was in bed, shoulder to shoulder with a sex god who was giving off some pretty confusing vibes, like he wanted her close one moment then not so close the next.

  Silence pulsed awkwardly between them for several seconds before they each spoke.

  “Listen, Dara—”

  “So, you’re a fighter?”

  He cleared his throat, looking a little relieved, and she got the distinct feeling he’d been about to give her the Thanks but you know this was just a one-night thing, right? speech. Embarrassment and disappointment rippled through her before he began speaking again. “I was. I retired from MMA fighting six years ago. I’m a trainer now. Have you ever heard of Lucky Dorsey?”

  She’d been staring at her plate, but at his question, she looked up. “Not really. My cousin Liam was an MMA fighter in Ireland and just moved to the States, but I don’t follow the sport much. I did see a lot of billboards with Lucky’s name and picture on them since I’ve been in Vegas, though.”

  “Where are you from, Dara?”

  “I live in Forestville, in Northern California. I’ve recently rented a room in Russian River House, a beautiful bed and breakfast in the heart of wine country. What about you?”