by Zoey Derrick
I smile at him. “I remember, I was there.”
He gives me a slow smile as he sits on the bed. Moving his now dark phone to the nightstand, he gently pats the bed and I climb up, but rather than sitting with him hip to hip, I turn, crossing my legs so I can look at him. Without any prompting he continues. I can tell by the light in his eyes he thrives on this. “We expanded Home Together. Not only adding additional shelters but branching out into some of the rougher parts of Atlanta. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was really making a difference. Not just in the shelters, but in the communities. It gave me a sense of hope I hadn’t felt in a long time.” He gently lays his hand in my lap and I wrap my fingers with his, holding it tightly. “Hope I hadn’t felt since that night.”
His eyes are warm, sincere and raw with honesty. “I’d always said,” he continues, “that I needed to make something of myself before I could consider going back for you. I mean that. But until tonight, I had no idea you helped me get there.”
He hangs his head, his hair falls into his eyes and I use my free hand to push it back and he turns toward me, into my hand and I cup his cheek. “Some things, no matter how big, or how small they may seem, end up meaning so much more to us than we realized at the time.” I had another snarky, Ireland style reply on the tip of my tongue, but his gentleness forces it to die on my lips.
“I had no choice when it came to leaving.” His voice is but a whisper and his eyes are still closed. “But I wish I’d done it differently.”
“I don’t.”
His eyes fly open. He’s stares at me with fear in his eyes, and I need to find my voice before I lose the nerve. I swallow hard. “Think about it. If we’d parted on more amicable terms, where would we be now?” I ask him, giving him a moment to ponder my question.
“We’d be in Joplin.”
“Doing what?” I pull my hand away and he shrugs.
“I don’t know, VeeVee, I really can’t answer that.”
I smile. “Neither can I, but what I do know is this moment might not have ever happened. If you’d come back to Joplin after you graduated, we would have had to sneak around, or if we didn’t, if mom accepted us being together, because I was only sixteen at that time, then maybe not. But still, things would have been so different between us. And right now, I don’t know what tomorrow brings for us, but I’m not ready to give up trying to find out. I’m ready to put our past behind us. I want to move forward, see where this is going because thinking about how things might have been if you’d never moved away hurts too much. It hurts because I can’t honestly say that at fifteen and seventeen we were right for each other.”
“What about twenty-five and twenty-seven?”
I smile at him and release his hand. There is a twinge of disappointment that disappears the moment I climb on his lap to straddle him and look him square in the eye. I press my body to his, toss my hair over my right shoulder and grab the back of his neck with my left hand. “I think at twenty-five and twenty-seven,” I pause, kissing his forehead, “that I haven’t,” I kiss the tip of his nose, “quite figured it out,” I brush my lips against his, “but I’m not going to give up trying to.”
I press my lips firmly to his, his arms wrap tightly around me, holding me to him like a lifeline he didn’t know he needed. My sex heats, my desire for him evident between my thighs. I moan into our kiss and he growls at me.
His hands slide down my back to grip my ass cheeks as he stands up from the bed. I wrap my legs around him. His cock presses between us and I pull back, gasping for air.
His lips don’t stop; they move down to my jaw, my neck and then onto what little of my shoulder is exposed to him. I tilt my head, finding more room for him to kiss and lick and suck as he turns me around, sitting me down on the bed. He reaches for the hem of his t-shirt that I’m wearing and pulls it up quickly. I’d never put on a bra, so he’s greeted with my rose colored, taut nipples and his eyes flicker with some unnamed emotion. “So fucking perfect,” he mutters as he reaches for the button of his pants. “I was going out of my fucking mind while you paced downstairs.” He smirks, “I could see your soft nipples pressing into my shirt, then when you’d get really excited about something, they’d grow longer, and thicker as they hardened. Staring at me, daring me to take them in my mouth.”
He pushes his pants down his legs and kneels before me, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. He sucks hard. The pleasure and twinge of pain cause my breathing to stop momentarily before picking back up in labored breaths. His tongue flicks along the sensitive bud as it hardens further in his mouth. He moans. The vibrations reach straight to my fucking core and all conscious thought evaporates.
His hand slides its way to my other nipple and he pinches it, hard. The softness of his mouth on my other nipple makes it a sensation cocktail; soft and gentle mixed with a twinge of pain. It’s like hot and cold, two different extremes, and they collide like fire and ice between my legs.
“Please,” I cry out.
He releases the nipple in his mouth. The pop and surge of blood is heady and my eyes roll up. “Please what, princess?”
“I need you.”
A sexy, mischievous grin slides across his lips. “How, princess?”
“Inside me,” I groan. “Please.”
Begging isn’t something I’m accustomed to, but it’s something I like, a lot. Especially when it comes to begging Dyson to do things to my body with his own.
His hand moves off my nipple to between my breasts. “One day, gorgeous, I will watch my cock disappear between these gorgeous tits of yours.” His hand presses against my chest, urging me onto my back. “But for now…” His hands slide achingly slow down my body. The feather light touch leaves goosebumps in their wake and I shiver. My nipples harden painfully as he reaches the waistband of my shorts. He teases the skin just above it, causing me to jump with the tickling sensation.
His hands disappear altogether until I feel one of them press against my sex and I writhe under his touch. “So wet already, tigress.” He pulls his hand back then presses it against me again and I feel the coolness against my sex briefly as I realize my arousal is visible on my shorts.
Embarrassment floods through me, but he eradicates my unease quickly when he slides his fingers into the waistband again, this time, tugging it down. I find some leverage with my legs hanging over the side of the bed and I lift my hips, allowing him the space to remove my shorts.
“Say it.” His hot breath caresses over my sex.
I shiver. “What?” I breathe.
“Say.” His breath hits me again. “My.” His tongue darts out, pushing only slightly into my entrance and my body begins to quake. His tongue disappears. A release is imminent if he gives me any more torture. “Name,” he growls, then slides his hot, wet, fat tongue from my entrance up to my clit. His teeth nip into the overly sensitized bud and I explode.
“Dyson,” I scream as my orgasm completely consumes me, mind, body and soul.
I hear him growl before I feel him. His mouth is on me with a fervor I’ve never felt before. He licks, sucks and teases the rest of my orgasm from my body and I’m shaking with each swipe of his tongue across my clit. He doesn’t let up and the pleasure rolls from one into another building inside me. On the brink and near the edge again, he slows.
My body quakes under his expert tongue and I slide my hand into his hair, holding him to me. He moans. The vibrations are a whole new sensation and I shudder again. “Jesus,” I breathe.
He releases my clit from his mouth, but doesn’t move away from my sex. “I told you I’d make you scream my name,” he says and I look at him. His eyes are wide and excited and I melt into the storminess I see within him.
“You don’t play fair,” I quip.
“Never said I would, princess.” He sits up straighter, and then stands. His cock is hard and on full display. I lick my lips. “What do you want, VeeVee?” His voice is soft and I sit up, reaching for him. He doesn’t move or fli
nch when I take his cock in my hand, stroking it gently. My hands tremble with the nerves I’m feeling. I’ve never done this before and my cheeks flush.
He steps closer to me. “
I look up at him through my eyelashes and he has a warm smile that makes my body ignite again. How the hell does one little look do this to me? “Do what your body is telling you,” he says softly. “Don’t think about it, feel it.”
And feel it, I do.
Chapter 41
DYSON
“Let Me Love You” - DJ Snake ft. Justin Bieber
Ireland slowly comes closer to me. Then her pink tongue darts out to lick along the underside of my cock and my eyes flutter closed briefly before finding hers again. My breathing changes, my mouth falls slack when she licks me again. Her hand is still wrapped around the base, holding me still as she slowly strokes up and then back down. Her tongue on my cock quickly turns to her entire mouth. Her eyes flutter, giving me a small break to close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of her perfect, hot mouth on my cock.
She’s nervous, it’s obvious, but she’s doing as I told her. She’s letting her body consume her desire to do what she’s doing and when her tongue dances along my shaft, I shudder. Opening my eyes, I find her looking up at me. “Don’t stop,” I whisper and I see her lips form a smile around me and it makes me tremble. “God, please don’t stop.”
She releases my cock from her mouth and whispers, “Say my name.” She smirks before slipping me back inside of her mouth.
“Tigress,” I say and I feel her teeth clamp down slightly and I chuckle. “Princess,” I tell her and she flicks her tongue along the underside and my skin erupts in a wave of goosebumps. “Baby girl.” This time she nips a little harder and I laugh. “Not a favorite?” I ask and she shakes her head before she pulls back and pushes back down on me with her mouth and the tip of my cock touches the back of her throat. “What about tigress?” She blushes, but I feel the tiny nip of her teeth and it sends a shot straight to my balls. “That feels fucking amazing, so if you don’t like that name, you’re screwed.”
She chuckles and releases me again. “My favorite,” she admits and I hiss through my teeth when she sucks me back into her mouth and she hollows her cheeks, sucking me hard and furiously as she starts to really bob her head up and down. I can’t stop sliding my hands into her hair, helping her, guiding her.
She’s got me right on the edge. I’m almost there when she takes my balls into her free hand. She tickles them gently before playing with them. She flushes again, but doesn’t stop when I let out a low rumbling groan. “Ireland?” I breathe and she looks at me with such devotion it makes my heart skip a beat and my balls tighten up. “I’m going to come. If you don’t want…” Her pace picks up, telling me she doesn’t care and I tighten my hands in her hair as I pour myself down her throat. Calling her name as I topple over the edge.
Chapter 42
Ireland
“Latch” - Sam Smith
Dyson did what I can only describe as ‘make love’ to me after I gave him my first blowjob. Then two more times in the night. Each time I awoke, he was doing something sweet to me, whether it was kissing along my shoulder or his hands roaming over my body. Every time I woke up, it was sweeter than the time before.
Eventually we both fell into a peaceful sleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
When I wake in the morning, he isn’t in bed with me and I am disappointed, but after pulling his Dartmouth t-shirt over my head, and nothing else, I go in search of him. I find him down in the living room with paperwork piled in front of him, spread out across the coffee table and his nose buried in his laptop. He looks up when he catches me watching him and gives me a gorgeous, panty melting smile that, had I been wearing them, might have caused them to combust. “Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi you.”
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asks with genuine concern and that beautiful smile fades.
“No, you not being in bed woke me.” I look around, looking for a clock and don’t find one. “What time is it?” The windows are tinted compared to yesterday, but not darkened completely.
He checks his watch. “Just before one.”
“Well crap.” I walk to him and sit down on the couch next to his prone position on the floor. “I didn’t mean to sleep that long.”
He chuckles, “I kept you up all night.”
I give him a sweet smile. “Oh, I’m not complaining.” But then my stomach rumbles and he notices.
“Hungry?”
“Famished,” I tell him and he smiles.
“Want to eat in or go out?”
“Erm… I didn’t bring much for clothes,” I remind him. Sure, I have jeans and a couple t-shirts, but that’s about it.
“You have jeans, don’t you?” I nod. “Then you don’t need anything else. There’s a great place around the corner that has some of the best burgers in the world.”
I am so hungry I could eat a cow, but I don’t tell him that. “I’ll go get dressed.” I move to stand but he stops me, pulling me down onto his lap and wrapping his arms around me as he buries his face in my neck. “What’s this for?” I ask, more playful than anything. I like this side of him.
“Nothing, just wanted you in my arms,” he tells me before squeezing me again and I wrap my arms around his neck and snake my fingers into his hair. I pull his head back and I press my lips to his. He groans and I smile. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he teases back.
“Who said I wouldn’t finish it?” I ask.
“Me. You’re sore.”
I take stock of my body and he’s not wrong. I am deliciously sore in all the right places for all the right reasons. “You’re an animal,” I Retort.
“Only for you.”
Only for you… Wow, he’s got it bad. Like really bad. I capture his lips for a chaste kiss. I’m pretty sure no amount of begging, teasing or torturing him will get him to go back on his decision to give my body a break and I don’t want to push him. “You’re impossible to resist, you realize that, right?” I ask him.
“And you’re undeniable. So go, before I change my mind and bend you over the coffee table.” I squirm in his lap. He growls and grabs hold of my ass cheeks and squeezes hard. “Go,” he groans.
“Crazy fool,” I smirk and he helps me stand up.
“You look too fucking good in my t-shirt.”
“Maybe I should wear it to lunch?” I joke.
He shrugs. “Then they really will be looking at you, smart and sexy as fuck.”
I shake my head and scurry up the stairs to his room. I hear his laughter from the living room as I go to my suitcase. Finding a pair of jeans and socks, I grab my Chucks then search for something warmer than a t-shirt.
I move back to the door. “How cold is it outside?” I shout down to him.
“It’s kind of mild outside right now.” I hear the humor in his voice.
“Your idea of mild or mine?”
“Mine, it’s about forty-eight right now.”
“Fuck,” I breathe out. “Mild, my ass!” I shout down at him.
A new roar of laughter comes up the stairs, and it takes a beat before I see his head, then the rest of him comes into view as he enters the room. He’s wearing a plain black V-neck, like last night, and a pair of artfully faded, straight leg jeans and when his feet come into view, and they’re bare. Fuck me, even his feet are sexy. God damn.
He ignores the lick of my lips as he comes closer to me. “I have a couple things that might help. I should have warned you it would be cold.”
He leads me toward his closet, “I figured it would be, but warning me wouldn’t have done anything. I don’t own overly warm clothes.” I sigh, remembering being in Joplin, but even there, I wore a hoodie and I was okay. I’m pretty sure the coldness that consumed me had nothing to do with the temperature outside.
He pulls back a few different things on the rack in his closet that’s nearly full to the brim, by the
way. He pulls a beautiful light green colored V-neck sweater from a hanger and hands it to me.
“Good god, that’s soft,” I practically moan as my hand grabs it from him and he smirks.
“It’s small on me, so maybe it will fit you okay.”
“I don’t care, I’m wearing it anyway.” I wink at him and head for the bathroom. I’d pulled a t-shirt from my suitcase and I decide I’m going to put the tank, t-shirt and finally the sweater over it. I’m going to need all the help I can get. Even on Phoenix’s coldest nights, we rarely get this cold and I’m going to freeze.
I ditch the t-shirt, it looked awful under the sweater, but I look hot as hell in his clothes, not gonna lie on that one.
My own assessment is matched by the vacant expression on Dyson’s face as he stares at me when I come down the stairs. Because the sweater is big on me, the V dips a little lower, and the girls look fucking hot. “Earth to Dyson,” I tease and he snaps out of his little trance.
“I think I’m going to have to find you a few more of those.” He winks and wraps his arms around me.
The sweater is so soft against my skin it gives Dyson’s touch a run for its money, okay, not really, but I thought the t-shirt was soft.
I laugh and hug him back. “I’m starving.”
“Good.” He gives me a chaste kiss and releases me before he grabs my jacket off the back of the couch and holds it open for me. “I found this for you.” He hands me a green and white striped scarf. “Thought it might help keep you warm.”