by S. E. Hall
“That was unbelievable, Dane. I love it when you sing to me.”
“I love you.” I blow in her ear, caressing it with my mouth.
“Take me home,” she coos.
I thought you’d never ask. Linking our fingers, I pull her towards the exit, giving quick goodbyes to our group.
He’s already glaring at us when I notice him standing directly between us and the door. I know the second Laney spots him because her hand tenses in mine and a shiver runs through her. I pull her tighter to me; no matter what happens, she’s not leaving my side. I’m not gonna be a dick; I promised her I wouldn’t do that ever again, but I’m also not going to roll over. He stands his ground as we come closer, his eyes hard, moving to Laney. She trembles, but quickly gathers herself, pushing her shoulders back and standing tall.
“Hey, Evan,” she says stoically.
He gives her only an obligatory brow raise.
“I called and texted,” she offers weakly. “I thought we could talk.”
“I got them,” he sneers.
I remain silent, letting her get out what she needs to, biting my tongue to refrain from telling him to watch his tone.
“Oh, okay then. I just thought—”
He holds up a hand to cut her off. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes cut to me and back, “here.”
She nods curtly and tugs on my hand, ready to leave.
Well, this night just went to hell in a hurry. The car ride home is hauntingly silent, her anguish palpable. I almost let her stew…
“Talk to me baby,” I finally say, rubbing her thigh. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Her exhale is shaky. “I hurt him, worse than I even thought. Evan is never unkind, and the way he acted tonight… Well, now I know it’s really bad.”
I reach for her hand, rubbing my thumb over hers.
“I think you’re wrong, Dane,” she says with a sad sigh. “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.”
What do I say to that? I can’t express my real thoughts—how long is this going to go on? When can we quit talking about this? I remain silent and stare out at the road in front of me.
She turns her sweet face, resting a cheek against the seat. “Don’t do that, Dane.”
“Do what?” I wish I wasn’t driving right now so I could stay focused on her expression. That would answer all my questions for me, without a doubt.
“You’re not the only one with ESP. I know what you’re doing.”
I can’t help my grin, pleased that she does, in fact, know me as well I do her. “What am I doing, baby?”
“You’re doubting us. Again. We can’t do this every time we see him, Dane. It’s going to bug me, every single time, to see the pain in his eyes. But it doesn’t mean anything changes for us. I won’t change my mind.” She lifts our joined hands, kissing mine tenderly then resting them against her chest. “He was my first love, and I’d like to keep him in my life, but you are my forever. You’re the key to unlocking parts of me I didn’t even know existed.”
Thankfully, I pull into my garage as she finishes speaking, because I can’t wait another second to hold her. “Laney…” I grab her face in both my hands, sealing my lips with hers in hunger. Her mouth molds with mine, tasting like her fruity drink and Laney, and her moan tells me to take more, roughly, so I gladly do. Both our chests are heaving when we break apart but I manage out breathily, “You are my all day, every day. I will love you, hard, every day for the rest of my life. I swear it.”
“I know,” she hums, kissing me once, quickly, before opening her door. I follow her into the house, stopping to turn out the lights and lock up.
She walks right in like she belongs here, and it makes me damn happy she feels that way.
After her nightly routine, she crawls into bed with me, throwing one long, toned leg over mine and resting her head on my chest. She smells of her favorite lavender lotion, her skin even silkier than usual as my fingertips trace just above her knee, exposed as her silky nightgown rides up. Having never been in love before, or in a real relationship with a woman, I’m not positive what I’m supposed to do right now. Something tells me I need to be sensitive to her difficult night and just hold her, but the man in me is screaming to mark her, claim her, and give her all she’ll ever need from me and only me.
I’ve almost convinced my dick he’s not running the show when she snuggles up closer against me, shifting so the warm, barely-there crotch of her thong slides along my thigh. My arm instinctively tightens around her, a grumble sounding from me. “Laney?” I know she’s not asleep. Tempting little faker.
“Hmmm?”
“Trying to be the sensitive, caring gentleman here.”
“Whatever you think is best,” she mumbles in mock sleepiness, rolling her hips slightly.
Ah fuck.
She’s on her back, hands pinned above her head with my body covering hers, before I know what hit me. I lower my head, breathing in her sweet scent, sucking on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. Helpless without her hands, she writhes beneath me, groaning. I drag my tongue from the base of her throat all the way to her ear where I groan, “Whose baby are you?”
The stubborn, sexy girl holds out, refusing to answer me, so I use my one free hand to push her nightgown up her body. Her muscles quiver beneath my mouth as I bite and lick her stomach, kissing her navel as I would her mouth. Her legs come up, gripping around me as she raises her lower body from the bed, seeking contact.
“Say it, Laney. Whose girl are you?”
She bites her bottom lip, fighting against her words, coaxing me to torture her more. I’m on to her game and more than willing to play. My cock is aching hard enough to do some serious damage, and I press between her thighs. “Who do you want there, baby?”
Those doe eyes of hers narrow in lustful challenge as she teasingly drags her tongue across her bottom lip. God. That move drives me crazy and she knows it. In one tug, I rip her thong in the middle, leaving the band around her waist, and inch a single finger down, tracing, teasing her right back.
“Dane…” My name is a drawn out moan as her head thrashes back and forth, her cheeks flushed.
There we go—my name. I’ll support her in all the ways she needs me to, always be the sensitive, caring partner, but at the end of the day, my name will be the one she moans. My arms will be the ones that hold her. Laney is mine. I really hope no one mistakes my kindness for weakness; that’d be a big oversight.
“I’m right here, gorgeous.” Releasing her hands, I take her clothes all the way off and she wriggles to help. “Feed me one,” I say, my demand a growl, at the sight of her glorious chest.
With a look of shock, then a smirk of wanton comprehension, she cups one breast and lifts it to my mouth. I latch on to a rosy nipple as soft and pink as her lips, sucking as I firmly grip the other. Soon I switch, showing both mounds equal appreciation while Laney’s hands fist tightly in my hair and smash my face into her. She’s so reactive to foreplay, her nipples a sensitive hot spot, and I show her how much I love them.
Unable to take it much longer, but mindful that I have to get her plenty ready to take me inside her, I release a breast from my mouth with a pop. She whimpers at the loss and tries to pull my head back to her. I snicker at how adorable she is and run my nose along hers, another of her favorite moves.
“I wanna taste you,” I say against her lips.
This will be another first for us, and I’m almost positive her first at all, but the possessive animal in me has to know. “Will I be the first to lick you there, Laney? Hmmm?”
I don’t miss her little gasp. “Yes, just you,” she answers huskily, actually pushing my head down there.
Greedy little thing! I love it; love how bad she wants me, how she forgets she’s a novice when it’s just her and I together like this. Oh, how it fucks with my head, my heart, to know I’m her first at this too. The first taste of her is heaven. She’s smooth and sweet, her scent of innocence and want flar
ing my nostrils and sending my primal instincts into overdrive. I could feast on her forever, just like this. I push my tongue in and out of her, then lick the edges slowly, finally placing a gentle bite on her clit. She yelps and arches off the bed, so I grab her hips to hold her in place, repeating the pattern. Her thighs begin to tremble and her wail is one long, non-stop noise, so I abruptly add two fingers, sending her completely over the edge.
“Oh my God, Dane!” she screams as I lick slowly, my tongue wide and flat, humming against her, drawing out her orgasm as long as I can, until she relaxes with her finish.
I lift my head and meet her lazy, satisfied gaze. “You want me, Laney?”
“Mhmmm,” she purrs, reaching up to twine her arms around my shoulders, pulling me up her body. “Now,” she mumbles, still a little out of it.
“Now what?” My fingertips skim her inner thigh, earning a shudder from her. I rise to my knees, between hers, and pull off my shirt, grinning as I watch her eyes roam over me.
“Make love to me,” she whispers, licking her lips and staring into my eyes.
“Well, okay, baby.” I laugh lightly as I shift and lose my pants and boxers. “You should have said something sooner.” I wink and she giggles.
I love how harmonious we are in the bedroom. While I need control, I also thrive on her interaction, the taunting wit and sexy playfulness that only I get to see. She matches me, and often exceeds me, on many levels, and in the bedroom—phenomenal. If I’d filled out a questionnaire and mail-ordered for my perfect fantasy, they would’ve shipped me Laney Jo Walker.
Unhurriedly, I ease into her warmth and just like the first time she welcomed me there, it feels like home; the single most perfect place I’m supposed to be. The place I’m meant to be.
“Fuckkk,” I drag out the growled words as long as it takes me to work myself in. Her arms reach around, grabbing my ass to push me in her deeper. “Easy, I don’t want to hurt you.” She’s still very new to this and she’ll feel it tomorrow, so I hold myself back despite her urgings. “I wanna go slow and feel every minute of it,” I pant. Being inside her, her body a scorching vice around me, feels incredible, like nothing before. “You feel so good, Laney, so soft and tight for me.”
Honestly, it’s never even been close to thi—shit! Condom!
She must feel my body tense. “Dane, what’s wrong?” Her scared eyes look up at me and she clutches my shoulders. “Did I do something wrong?”
I’d rather do anything than pull out of her right now, but that’d be way too selfish, and Laney comes first, literally. Grimacing, I withdraw, swiping a hand down my face. “Laney, I’m so sorry, baby. I forgot a condom.”
She giggles—giggles! I’m waiting for her to cry, or slap me, and she’s laughing! She sits up and wraps her arms around my waist. “I trust you, Dane. You’d never intentionally hurt me. If there was anything you needed to tell me, for my health, you would.”
Whoa, wait! “Laney, I’m clean. I have physicals every year, the insurance on my companies demands it. And I haven’t been with anyone else since, well, awhile… before the last physical by a long shot.”
“Then why are you so worried?” She kisses my chest, moving one hand to rub my back. “I think it’s safe to say I’m clean.”
Do I really have to map this out for her? Nope, it takes a few more seconds before she simpers again, peering up at me.
“You ever been in the middle of a softball tournament, away from home, in the Georgia heat and white pants, when all of a sudden you start your period?”
I wait for her to continue, pretty sure I don’t actually have to answer her.
“Well, I have, and it sucked. On the pill, you know exactly when it’s coming. I’ve been on it ever since; it’s the best advice Kaitlyn ever gave me.” She kisses the end of my nose and smiles reassuringly. “We’re good, babe.”
Holding in a gasp of relief, I try to return a positive smile, still a little shaky. Laney’s 19 years old, with a sex life still in its infancy, and I’d been careless with her. I wince a bit at the thought, ‘cause it really had felt fucking incredible.
Focus, man!
“Now. Where were we?” She nibbles along my jaw, trailing up to suck on my earlobe. “You’re not a quitter are you?”
“Not. Even. A. Little. Bit,” I warn her as I lay her back, reaching to the nightstand to do things right this time. Moving over her again, the teasing mood is gone and her eyes are sultry, breathing choppy.
“Love me, Dane,” she says and her back bows, her knees falling open as I bury myself in one smooth thrust.
“I do, baby, I do.”
Chapter 3
Stomping Grounds
~Evan~
Seeing them together, again, really knocked the wind out of me. I’d better get used to it, since Southern is my new stomping grounds and not that big. I’ve been sitting on this barstool, replaying the scene in my head over and over way too many times, for what feels like hours. I must look as helpless as I feel since Sawyer cracks a beer open and slides it my way.
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem. I didn’t ask the other night, but you’ve got an ID just in case, right?”
I nod in affirmation.
“Just making sure. Dane’s place and all, wouldn’t want to jeopardize it for him.”
Dane owns this bar? Of course Dane owns this bar. And a mansion. And now he’s got Laney too. For the love of crap—could he be more impressive? More lucky? There’s nothing wrong with hating the guy, and boy, do I. So yes, I will gladly sit here and drink all of his free fucking beer I can stomach.
Yeah, you really got him there, Evan.
The faint smell of sweet musk drags my attention away from Sawyer’s bottle-flipping skills, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the blonde who’s scooted up to the bar. Oh what the hell—I lean back, running my eyes up and down her body. Not bad at all.
“Hey, Sawyer,” she says loudly over the music. “Can I get a couple of lemon drops?”
Sawyer gives her a look, not sure what kind exactly, and starts to make her drinks. As though she can feel my curious gaze, she turns to me, big blue eyes assessing quickly before turning back to Sawyer, brows raised in question.
“Whitley, this is Evan. Evan, Whitley,” he introduces us. Behind her back, he runs his finger across his throat, vigorously shaking his head.
I bite back a laugh, extending my hand to her. “Nice to meet you, Whitley.”
“You too, Evan,” she responds coquettishly, not releasing my hand. “How do you know Sawyer?”
I shrug a shoulder. “By default. I met him through a girl I know here.”
Her brows crease at this, her bottom lip pouting out just a bit. She looks back to Sawyer, again silently asking him to fill in the gaps.
He waves her off. “Go dance, Whit. We’ll catch up with ya later.”
Not happy about being dismissed, she grabs her drinks with a “hmmpf” and walks away.
“Don’t go there man, trust me.”
I’m not “going” anywhere, but now he’s piqued my curiosity, so I engage. “Why’s that?”
“First of all, she’s a bat-shit crazy clinger. Second of all, Laney hates her.”
I try not to show any signs of reaction, but he’s got me full-blown intrigued now. “Why does Laney hate her?” I ask entirely too eagerly.
He waits on another customer, letting me simmer. He knows damn well that his silence is killing me. Bastard.
“I’ll tell ya,” he throws over his shoulder as he reaches down in a cooler for a new order, “but it’ll cost ya.”
“How much?”
“A trifecta.”
A triwhatta? I think Sawyer’s been nipping a little from the well back there. “Come again?” I glare at the shot he just passed me, knowing it’s a terrible idea after starting with beer. How many times have I heard the “beer before liquor, never been sicker” adage? Against my better judgment, I down it, highly suspecting I’m gonna need it if I
continue to patronize this crazy place.
“Trifecta. Dance with a brunette, a blonde that’s not Whitley, and a redhead. When you’re done, I’ll tell ya why Laney hates her. Get one of their numbers and I’ll throw in the story about Laney threatening to beat her ass the first time they met.”
I see what you’re doing here, Sawyer. Single and ready to mingle? Not really, but any Laney stories I can get out of him are worth it—maybe the information will help me. And if it doesn’t, it will at least give me an idea of what she’d been doing all those long months we were apart; how she went from my sweet, innocent Laney to…not my Laney. His Laney. Sawyer’s info may be all I ever get.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” I mutter, flabbergasted that I’m even considering this dumbass plan.
“Katie!” Sawyer screams and immediately a knockout redhead slinks saucily up to the bar, lifting her torso across it to jab her tongue down Sawyer’s throat. “Teach my boy how to dance, sexy?” he fake asks her when he comes up for air.
She turns her attention to me as though Sawyer is running her with a remote control and grabs my hand, pulling me from my stool. “Come on handsome. Mama’ll teach ya a few tricks.”
Two songs later, I’ve decided Katie deserves a certificate, because she taught me plenty. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I knew how to dance, that I’d just been making an excuse to Sawyer, though once she got started, I didn’t want to tell her. That girl’s got no shame and she dances with her entire body—tongue, hands, you name it. It was fun, my mind welcomingly distracted for a while, but I was about over it now. Girls like Katie are a dime a dozen; she’d shoved her tongue down Sawyer’s throat five minutes before grinding her ass into my crotch—that kind of looseness just doesn’t do it for me.
Redhead, though—check!
Whitley walks into my line of vision and I glace around, trying to seek out the most harmless looking brunette or blonde in the place so I can complete Sawyer’s asinine scheme and get my Laney info.
“You look miserable,” Whitley surmises.
Observant girl. I can’t help my slight smirk. “That obvious, huh?”