“It’s just me,” Dylan said, “I was going to put the clothes on the counter for you. Is that okay?”
I studied the shower curtain, praying it wasn’t see-through. Just in case, I turned my body so that my back was facing it and called out, “Okay.” I held myself rigid when the door squeaked open. This was the closest I had ever been to a guy completely nude. One of the things that scared me about Dylan was the fact that he caused my body to respond in unfamiliar ways.
I released a relieved breath when the door shut, and I was once again alone in the bathroom. I had to wash my hair twice with a shampoo/conditioner mix that supposedly smelled like a glacier mountain if the label on the bottle was any indication. I hadn’t grabbed a clean rag before getting into the shower, and I wasn’t going to use the one sitting on the ledge of the tub, so I had to use my hands to scrape the dry mud off my body. By the time I was done, my legs and arms were red, and I smelled like boy soap.
I swiped a hand across the foggy mirror and searched for a brush while I ran the towel over my wet hair. The bathroom was small, barely enough room for the sink, toilet, and shower. Of course, the toilet seat was up. The counter held razors, toothbrushes, and various bottles of gel but no brush. Opening one of the drawers, I searched for anything that I could use against the tangles, but instead came across a box of condoms. Why the hell did they store condoms in the bathroom? Shouldn’t Jase and Dylan each have a box in their own rooms? I picked up the box and studied the words on the front. Opening one of the flaps, I peeked inside. I had seen condoms before—Lily kept a couple in her purse, and James always had one, you know, just in case I changed my mind.
A soft knock echoed through the door and freaked me the hell out. The box went flying out of my hands and scattered condoms everywhere.
“Just checking to see if you need anything else,” Dylan said through the door.
“Uh …” My hands shot out as I grabbed as many foil packets as I could. “I’m almost done, just getting dressed.” I picked up the box and dropped the condoms inside, falling to my knees to get the ones on the floor. I braced one hand on the sink counter and pulled myself up, dropping the rest of the condoms into the box. I searched the space for any I might have missed when I caught one floating in the toilet.
“Son of a …” I mumbled to myself. I bent over the toilet and cringed. I did not want to touch any part of that disgusting thing. Reaching for the scrub brush beside the toilet, I worked to get the foil packet out of the water. I chased it around the bowl until it finally flipped onto the brush. Slowly, I dragged the brush up the side of the bowl and then was faced with another dilemma: put the condom back in the box or throw it away? I held the brush out from me, eyeing the box and the garbage can. Finally, I decided on the garbage can, making sure to bury it as much as possible. I put the condoms back where I found them and got dressed as quickly as possible. Dylan had left me a t-shirt that read Mustang across the front and a pair of girl’s denim shorts one size bigger than my size. I eyed the shorts with derision, imagining which one of his flings had left them here, and pissed that he offered them to me. Either I had to put on my muddy shorts again or wear one of Dylan’s castoffs. I decided on the clean shorts, ignoring who might have owned them before. The shirt was so big that you couldn’t tell I was even wearing shorts. I gave up on looking for a brush, hung my towel on the shower rod, and exited the bathroom.
The living room was dark, but a room across the hall had its door open, and I could see light from a lamp. I was hoping this was Dylan’s room and not Jase’s. I inched closer, peeking my head inside. Dylan lay on his bed, his arms stretched out above him. A sliver of his stomach was showing, tanned and muscular. When I entered, he sat up and raked his eyes up and down my body, stoking the embers inside of me. I ran my fingers through my hair self-consciously.
“I couldn’t find a brush,” I said lamely.
“You’re still beautiful.” Dylan stood up and walked over to me, his green eyes mimicking the burn inside of me. He clasped a strand of my wet hair between his fingers and ran it through his hand. “I don’t think that t-shirt has ever been sexier.”
Did this boy have a link straight to my libido? Because at the moment, my legs clenched together with more want than I had ever felt. For all his faults, Dylan Crawford had been nothing but gentle and sweet to me.
“I’m going to get cleaned up,” he said when I remained silent, “and then I can take you home.” He let his hand fall away from my hair and moved past me. “Oh, there is a comb on my dresser if you want to use it.”
I looked at him over my shoulder and said, “Thanks,” but he was already disappearing into the bathroom.
I walked over to his dresser, finding the comb. As I ran it through the tangles in my hair, my eyes fell over Dylan’s room: white walls, beige carpet, one window, a dresser, closet, and a twin size bed. He had a couple posters of women in bikinis posing next to muscle cars and a pile of dirty clothes sat in the corner. Bottles of cologne, change, and receipts rested atop his dresser, and there was a distinctive male scent to his room. James’s room was always immaculate aside from his football gear; he never had anything on his floors. Of course, James’s family had a housekeeper.
As my eyes roamed over the modest place, I thought it was cool that Jase and Dylan paid for it with their own money. I had never had my own money—never even had a job. When I turned eighteen, a portion of my trust fund had been deposited into my bank account. I would receive the rest when I turned twenty-one. I couldn’t imagine what life would have been like had I grown up without money. It was all I’d ever known.
Fifteen minutes later, Dylan walked into the bedroom—shirtless. He wore a pair of mesh basketball shorts and nothing else. I stood frozen, my eyes glued to his bare chest. Ripples and valleys made up his taut stomach and formed a V at his hips. He had a tattoo of some saying just under his left pectoral, but I couldn’t decipher what it said.
“If you keep looking at me like that my willpower isn’t going to hold out much longer.”
Blinking, I looked away while heat crept into my cheeks. “Sorry, I was trying to read your tattoo.” Even as I said it, I knew it was a lame excuse. He was just so damn hot and unlike anything I had ever seen that I wanted to appreciate him like the piece of art he was.
“Don’t apologize,” he said with amusement. “I liked it.”
I met his eyes, a grin on my face. “Of course you did. You’re used to girls ogling you. It’s like foreplay for guys like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He walked over to his dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a gray t-shirt. I frowned, knowing all that yummy bareness was about to be covered up.
“Just that you know how girls react to you and you use it to your advantage. There’s a reason daddies warn their daughters ‘bout guys like you.”
A wide smile spread across his tempting lips, his eyes twinkling with mischievousness. “Is that so?”
I nodded, trying to constrain my lips from spreading into a cheesy smile. Dylan made me giddy like those girls I had seen in so many romantic comedies. I never understood the reaction and thought it was an oversell on the actor’s part. Now, I not only understood it, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling it every single time I was around him.
“Yet, here you are,” Dylan said, moving toward me. “With the boy your daddy warned you about.” He enveloped me in his bare arms as he leaned in and ran his nose up the length of my neck. My entire body quaked—awakening and stirring with something only he could elicit in me. “Temptation is the sweetest of evils, don’t you think?”
My head was nodding in agreement before I realized it was even moving. Dylan’s soft laughter tickled my skin, sending goose bumps up my arms. My breath caught when he pressed his lips to the space where my neck and shoulder met. I bit my lip, hesitating to reach out to him and run my fingertips over his bare skin. I wanted to so badly, but I wasn’t as brave as the thoughts running through my head.
; You only have one more day with him. The sad reminder filled my mind. You will regret your cowardice when you look back at this moment.
Scraping up every little piece of courage I had, I lifted my arms and settled them around his neck. Dylan moved up my throat, placing kisses along the way. Swallowing hard, I allowed my hands to slide over his broad shoulders, relishing the feel of his hot skin beneath my fingertips. Dylan moved toward my mouth, his hungry eyes connecting with mine before he claimed my mouth. Lost in his kiss, I ran a hand up the base of his neck and slipped my fingers through his wet hair. When he let out a raspy moan, I felt it as though it was a tangible thing settling between my legs. Knowing I was the cause of that moan did funny, exciting things to me. Was I affecting Dylan just as much?
My body sagged when his tongue slipped between my lips. He tasted like toothpaste, and I instantly worried I tasted like mud. I should have squirted some Colgate into my mouth before exiting the bathroom. I hadn’t realized we were moving until the backs of my knees hit his bed. Dylan slowly lowered me onto the mattress, bracing his arms on either side of my head. I knew we were taking a step further than I ever had, but it was as though the metaphorical brakes of my body had been cut—I couldn’t stop, not when everything he did felt so good.
I hadn’t intended on this happening—really. When I offered to bring her back to my apartment, it was just so she could wash up before I took her home. But, when I saw the desire in her eyes when she looked at me, my body came alive. I had to touch her, kiss her, feel her against me. I have had many girls in my bed, but none of them as alluring or beautiful as Brooke Kingsley. Everything she did tempted me—from the way she looked at me, to the way her body trembled when my hands roamed over it.
A soft moan escaped from her mouth, and I could feel myself hardening inside my shorts. I lowered my hips between her legs, pressing my erection softly against her pelvis. That provoked another soft moan—a siren’s song tempting me further. Using one arm to brace myself, I ran my other hand along her waist, settling on her hip. My fingers gripped her leg and bent it around my waist to give me closer access. I knew I was balancing on a very dangerous ledge, but I wanted her so damn bad. I thrust my hips into her again, groaning at how good she felt beneath my body. I remembered the bedroom door was open, but was too drunk off her to get up and shut it. Jase had gone to bed, so unless he got up to piss, our intimate moment would remain between her and me.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, her soft fingertips caressing my shoulders. I moved from her mouth to her throat, licking a path up her neck. She turned her head to the side to give me better access, her eyes closed as she bit her bottom lip. I didn’t think it was out of nervousness this time. Every subtle thing she did turned me on, but I knew I couldn’t treat what was between us like I did with other girls. I didn’t want to fuck up where Brooke was concerned.
“Are you okay,” I breathed. “Do you want me to stop?”
She rolled her head back to look at me, and the hunger I found in her eyes made my dick twitch with want. I had never wanted to be inside someone as much I did with her. So many scenarios filled my head that I was almost trembling as much as she was.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her eyes full of anxiousness and nerves.
“I’ll stop whenever you want,” I told her. “Just say the word.” Not knowing where this was going, I climbed off her and walked over to shut the door. When I turned around, Brooke was leaning up on her arms, a grin on her face. I smiled as I climbed back onto the bed, positioning myself between her legs. Knowing that this princess wanted me as much as I wanted her stroked my ego. She was royalty and I a mere servant; the two of us together was absurd. I couldn’t offer her any of the things she was used to or live up to her parents’ expectations on what they thought her boyfriend should be. We were so vastly unequal that I would have thought I was dreaming had I not felt the solidity of her body beneath me. A body that I was sure had never been touched the way I was touching it now. To know I was the first to make her feel aroused caused a possessiveness I had never felt before. The feeling was ridiculous though; I could never possess Brooke Kingsley. She would never be mine, but I could pretend just for tonight.
I slipped my hand between her legs, watching her eyes as I moved toward the spot I wanted to fill. She stared up at me, her lips slightly parted. Her chest rose and fell heavily and when I touched the V of her legs, she gasped. I moved my fingers in a circle, rubbing her gently. Leaning down, I claimed her mouth and continued to stroke her.
Removing my hand from between her legs, I inched her shirt up and pressed a kiss to her flat stomach. Her bellybutton was so deep; I could have drunk from it. The shorts I had given her were a pair of Dana’s she had left here and hung off Brooke’s hips, exposing her hipbones. I scooted down her body, gripping her waist in both hands as I ran my mouth over her stomach. I didn’t think she knew how sexy she was. I was so far gone, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve stopped, but those damn soft moans falling from her lips urged me on.
Kneeling on the bed, I gripped the waistband of her shorts and popped the button open, pausing to see if she would stop me. She didn’t. She held my eyes as though begging me to continue. In that moment I wanted to be the first one between her legs, to lay claim to a girl I had no business wanting. I wanted our bodies to connect in a way she had never connected with anyone else. I undid the zipper, pulling slowly to give her time to voice her objections. When she still didn’t say anything, I worked the shorts off her thin hips and slid them down her soft legs, letting them fall to the floor. I stared in awe at how beautiful she was and how perfect she looked on my bed. I needed to see more of her—all of her. Leaning down, I snaked an arm underneath the small of her back and guided her into a sitting position as I lifted the t-shirt over her head.
“You are so …” my eyes raked over her body, “gorgeous.”
“Dylan.” Her voice held a tremor to it. “I’ve … never … I mean I haven’t …”
“It’s okay,” I told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We don’t have to go any further than we are right now if you don’t want. I’m happy to just keep kissing you.”
She smiled bashfully, and it was so goddamn adorable. “I want to,” she admitted. “I mean … I think I do.”
“We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay?”
She nodded, a shaky breath leaving her lips. I crawled onto the bed, resting my back against the headboard.
“Come here.” I encircled an arm around her waist and lifted her up. She let out a squeal that caused me to laugh. Sitting back down, I inched toward the headboard and leaned back so that Brooke was straddling me. Running my hands up her bare legs, I stared into her blue eyes and allowed her to get comfortable with the position. I hoped having her on top would let her feel in control of the situation.
Reaching an arm up, I ran my fingers through her hair and brought her face toward mine. When she leaned down, she braced her hands against my bare chest and kissed me softly. She felt so fucking good sitting on top of my erection. My hands reached out to grip her hips, moving her back and forth gently. The friction made her moan into my mouth, and she slipped her tongue through my lips, deepening the kiss. Her nails raked down my skin, provoking a groan from me. I increased the speed of her hips and broke away from her mouth to trail kisses down her chest. Her bra matched her pink panties, and the swell of her breasts spilled forward with her bent over position. Once she was comfortable with the movement, she began to rock her hips on her own.
I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to touch more of her. I snaked a hand between her legs and circled my fingers against the thin cotton on her underwear. Her lips parted in a pant as she held my eyes. There was no innocence looking back at me, just raw want. Slipping her underwear aside, I touched her with my bare hand and waited for her to tell me I had taken it a step too far, but at the contact, she closed her eyes and sagged against my hand. Gently, I
slipped a finger inside of her and began to move it in and out. She was so wet and ready that I almost took her right there, but I knew this was as far as we should go. I would deal with blue balls if it meant I could get her off.
I increased the speed of my hand and held her tightly against me with my other arm. Her body trembled against mine as I felt her clench around my finger. Slowly, I decreased the speed until I was sure she was finished and removed my hand.
“You okay?” I whispered, watching her come down from the high I had given her. Her chest rose and fell in heavy pants, her eyes heavy with relaxation.
She nodded, swallowing hard to catch her breath. “More than okay,” she said. “That was … nothing like I imagined.”
She laughed as she took a deep breath, causing me to laugh with her. I ran my hands up and down her arms, amazed at how good I felt with giving an orgasm instead of getting one. I would give her a million orgasms without receiving if it meant I could watch her come. What the hell had this girl done to me?
“I should get you home,” I said, looking at the alarm clock beside my bed.
“Right.” She grinned. “Your charm runs out at midnight.”
When she began to climb off my lap, I seized her arm and brought her back to me. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t fight against me.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
She frowned, and it caused the hope in my chest to deflate. “My parents are throwing James and me a huge going away party.” Her eyes connected with mine. “I know you and I can’t be in a relationship because I’m leaving, but I’m going to break up with James tomorrow night. I just have to get through the party.”
“So this is our last night together, huh?”
She chewed on her lip, her hands resting on my stomach. “Yeah, the party doesn’t start until three, but I’ll be helping decorate for it all day, and knowing my parents, it’ll go late and then I’m leaving around ten the next morning. When is Dana leaving?”
Turning Home (A Small Town Novel) Page 8