Vote Then Read: Volume III
Page 133
I wished I could understand why this fire had flared up so powerfully. I’d known Evie for two years, and up until a few weeks ago, my interest in her had maybe a bit more kick to it than usual, but it had been nothing like this. It was as if now that a bit of fuel had been added, it was raging out of control.
“Hey, Evie,” I drawled, the sound of the leaves rustling under my feet quieting when I came to a stop in front of her.
When her eyes met mine, for a flash, my breath left me. Fuck, she was beautiful. Her dark hair hung around her shoulders, and my eyes fell to her plump lips. When her lopsided smile unfurled, it was like a kick to my libido. Her scent drifted to me, wrapping around me like silken threads. Everything drew tight inside, and my cock throbbed.
Here I was, thinking I could convince her it wasn’t just sex I wanted when, sweet Jesus, I wanted her. So badly.
“Hey, Dawson,” she replied, her voice low with a rasp to it.
Her voice alone tightened those silken threads, pulling me closer.
I had to have her.
I took a breath, keeping my gaze on her. I was speaking before I had cleared my words with my thoughts. “I want you.”
Her breath came out in a little surprised puff. Her eyes widened, and a flush crested on her cheeks.
Now that I’d gone and blurted that out, I decided to just go with it. “And I know you want me too.”
The moment felt suspended and electric as I waited. I knew I saw the answering flare of desire in her eyes, and I could see the rapid flutter of her pulse in her neck.
I absorbed the sight of her. She wore a skirt that hugged her hips and fell to her ankles in a twirl above a pair of leather cowboy boots. I wondered where she had been.
I hoped like hell she hadn’t been on a date. That was certainly something I never wondered about any woman. Not in this way. That’s how off-kilter she had me. She elicited a combination of raw desire tangled up in an unfamiliar emotion.
“Let’s just take it one step at a time,” I said, taking an actual step closer and sifting my fingers through her silky hair.
My eyes canted down, noticing her nipples tight against the thin silk of her blouse. I wanted to dip my head and suck on her nipples, right through the silk. I wanted to shove her denim jacket off and strip her.
But that was probably moving too fast.
I stayed quiet and waited. The deep breath she took was audible in the quiet night. After a moment, when I thought the waiting was about to kill me, she nodded. The breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding came out, hissing through my teeth.
7
Evie
I could barely hear over the rush of blood pounding through my ears. My pulse had truly gone wild, pounding so hard and fast I was verging on dizzy.
I felt almost hypnotized as I stared into Dawson’s eyes. His silvery-gray gaze had darkened, and I recognized the flare of desire.
“Okay,” I heard myself saying before I really thought it through.
In all honesty, I couldn’t really think, not in Dawson’s presence. All he had to do was stand there, and he gave off an aura of sensuality and masculinity that tugged on the fierce arousal in me.
My answer appeared to surprise him. His eyes widened slightly before he stepped closer yet again. I felt as if I were caught in a riptide, and I couldn’t swim against the current. It was too strong. All I could do was succumb. Anything else was exhausting and fought against the core of my desire.
I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t for Dawson to move with such deliberation. “Evie,” he murmured.
When he brushed my hair away from my face, shivers chased in the wake of his touch. He dusted a kiss on my temple, another beside my ear, and a few along my jawline. With each kiss, his hands sank deeper into my hair until he slid one to cup the nape of my neck. There was the slightest sting on my scalp as his fingers laced into my hair. The subtle pain felt good. I was buffeted by need, and being able to anchor myself to a concrete sensation was almost a relief.
His lips hadn’t even met mine yet, and I was utterly undone. Everything was slow. I felt like hot lava inside and could hardly catch my breath.
“Dawson,” I gasped when he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“Yes?”
His lips were but a whisper from mine when he spoke, and I could feel the subtle motion of them brushing over mine. He still didn’t kiss me.
“Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, I leaned forward, angling up just enough to catch his lips with mine. His low growl escaped into our kiss right before it went wild. We were on kiss three now, and maybe the third time was the charm. The moment his tongue slid across the seam of my lips and mine opened on a sigh, it felt as if we were caught in a roaring current of need and desire, and absolutely nothing could stop it.
Dawson stepped closer until he was flush against me, and I could feel the hard ridge of his arousal. Deepening our kiss, he angled my head to the side, and his tongue stroked against mine.
Liquid fire spun through my veins. I was so hot I could hardly stand as my body quivered with desire. He worked my mouth and then drew back, dusting slow, sweet kisses on the corners before diving in again. By the time he lifted his head, I was gasping, nearly ready to beg him to fuck me, right here and right now.
His voice punctured the haze of need filling my mind.
“What?” I managed to ask, my lips feeling so puffy and swollen from our kiss that my words came out slurred.
“I said someone’s coming. Your place or mine?”
He didn’t step back, and I didn’t want him to. I was so far gone I couldn’t quite make myself care that someone might see us like this. It could be any number of people we worked with or guests walking to their cabin, but I simply didn’t care. Not even a little.
My mind managed to latch onto the one thing that seemed to matter at this moment—which place was closest—so I said, “Yours.”
He stepped back, instantly leaving me bereft. I loved the feel of his heat and strength encompassing me, and I didn’t want to lose it. He caught my hand in his and turned, walking swiftly through the trees as he angled off the main path.
Within a few minutes, we reached his cabin, tucked in the trees just like the others. My heart was still pounding like mad, and my legs felt like rubber, but curiosity kicked in when he opened the door. He held the door for me, waiting until I had stepped inside before following me and closing it.
Just like all the cabins, the sensor activated the lights when we stepped inside. The two lamps in the corners cast a soft glow in the space. His cabin was mine in reverse. There was a four-poster bed with pillows piled high and a fluffy down quilt, a dresser to the side, and a bench against the wall with hooks above it by the door. The small kitchen tucked in one corner had a narrow counter that held a microwave, a small sink, a tiny refrigerator, and a coffeemaker.
Beyond that was the door I knew led to a luxurious bathroom with a large tub and shower. Jackson had spared no expense for the guest cabins and was gracious enough to let staff stay in them as a major side benefit to working here. Although there were no personal decorations, the space still felt like Dawson somehow. One of his worn denim jackets was hanging by the door, and several pairs of his battered work boots were on the floor beneath.
I was suddenly unsure, but I wasn’t about to stop. Before I could think too much, which was a good thing, I felt the heat of Dawson’s palm land between my shoulder blades and slide down. I was turning into him as he angled toward me. Our kiss picked up right where we left off.
It started slow but quickly picked up in speed and intensity. He was devouring my mouth while I couldn’t get close enough fast enough. I was on my tippy toes, one hand mapping the surface of his chest and the other wrapped around his waist, clinging to the corded muscles along his spine. I couldn’t help it, I had to feel his ass after admiring it from afar for two damn years.
Dawson Marsh had one fine ass—hard and
muscled just like the rest of him. I slid my hand down over the denim, savoring the flex of his muscles under my touch.
His lips broke free from mine. I heard the amusement in his voice when he said, “I guess I don’t have to worry about you accusing me of copping a feel.”
I bit my lip and shook my head. “Not at all.”
Somehow, this light moment only amped up the intensity between us. I didn’t know what to make of any of this. All I knew was I wanted Dawson, and I didn’t care to contemplate all the reasons it was a potentially disastrous idea.
I couldn’t have said if it was truly that my need for Dawson was that profound, or if my somewhat limited experience with men made it hard for me to contend with the sheer force of the raw desire burning hot and high between us. High school had been one long dry spell for me. After I got past it, I’d had a few boyfriends, but no one who blew me away. Grace was right, though. I’d been complaining about how little sex I’d had of late.
I supposed it was because I was hoping for a little something more than yet another foray into the dating scene, which was usually way too casual for me. Yet here I was, diving into the madness with a man who specialized in friends with benefits. Even though a tiny voice in a closet in the back of my mind tried to tell me I shouldn’t expect anything from Dawson, I couldn’t bring myself to listen.
The need rushing through me was a riptide, and I was well out to sea already.
Restless for more, I stepped back slightly, kicking off my boots and shrugging out of my jacket. I moved to unbutton my blouse, pausing when Dawson’s hand caught one of my wrists. His touch was light, yet it might as well have been a brand. Fire flashed over my skin under his fingers, radiating up my arm.
When I looked up, he shook his head. “Not yet. I don’t want to rush this.”
The sensual promise contained in his words sent a blast of heat through me. I swallowed and nodded, watching as he toed his shoes off and kicked them to the side. He hadn’t worn a jacket. I caught the hem of his T-shirt and slid it up, my breath coming out in a gasp at the feel of his warm skin.
Catching his eyes, I said, “We don’t have to rush, but I want this off.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth as his mouth kicked up at one corner. The flare of heat in his eyes nearly buckled my knees. I meant what I said. I’d seen Dawson shirtless from a distance, but I wanted the view up close and personal. Now.
He obliged, reaching behind his head and pulling his shirt up and over in one swoop. Sweet Jesus. My mouth went dry, and there was a pull low in my belly. His skin was burnished gold and lightly dusted with hair. His chest was cut muscle with his abs delineated clearly.
I meant to say something, but it was lost when he stepped closer, nudging me back until my knees hit the edge of the mattress. His hands slid down my sides as he kissed me. His palms curled around my hips and lifted me onto the mattress. I felt the hard ridge of his arousal briefly before he stretched me out on the bed. I couldn’t help but savor how easily he manhandled me.
The mattress dipped under his weight as he lay beside me, his palm coming to rest on my belly, branding me with its heat. My breath came shallow and fast. I was almost shaking with need—hot and shivery all over.
Glancing up, I found Dawson’s eyes waiting for me—dark and smoky, a stormy sky waiting to be unleashed. Simply looking at him set my heart to kicking even faster.
Restless, I shifted my legs. It was hard to bear the intensity of his gaze. I was almost relieved when his hand slid up to cup one of my breasts. A ragged gasp escaped when he brushed his thumb over my taut, achy nipple. Dipping his head, his mouth closed over the other, right through my blouse and bra. The friction combined with the suction sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my sex.
When I arched into him, I felt the moisture between my thighs, my panties wet as slick heat built in my channel. He teased my nipples until I was gasping and pleading with him. Only then, only when I actually said please did he flick the buttons loose on my blouse, the cool air hitting my skin as I sighed in relief.
“Dawson, please …” I gasped.
I didn’t beg. Ever. Until now. Of all the men whose name I thought I would be crying out, Dawson’s wasn’t it. I was so caught up in the power of the desire rushing between us that I didn’t care. I had absolutely no shame whatsoever.
So much of this was startling. Perhaps the most shocking of all was the depth of comfort I felt. A strange sense of freedom lay within the ease in the desire blooming between us. I had no doubt he experienced the same force I did.
He lifted his head, his thumb resting over the clasp between my breasts. “Please what?”
My eyelids were heavy. I felt almost drugged, intoxicated with the potency of his presence and his strength surrounding me. I managed to drag my eyes open to find his silver smoky gaze waiting for me. I didn’t even know what I was begging for. I just knew I needed release.
I shifted my hips where his knee had settled between my thighs, the weight of it tightening the fabric of my skirt. The subtle restraint spun into the need driving me. I wanted to be bare naked with him deep inside me. As soon as possible, preferably.
“I need this off,” I said, wiggling my shoulders.
He had me pinned in such a way that I couldn’t move very well. However, it didn’t feel controlling, and sweet hell, I did not want him to move. Rather, I wanted some sort of magic trick where my clothes simply flew off.
“Soon,” he replied.
I rocked my hips, pressing against the hot ridge of his cock. Satisfaction rushed through me when he closed his eyes, and a low growl escaped. I loved knowing he might be close to losing control.
Then his mouth was on mine again, and I lost myself in a hot, wet kiss. Blessedly, he flicked my bra open and tossed it aside, and I could finally feel his bare skin against mine. The light dusting of hair on his chest abraded my nipples, and I gasped into his mouth.
I kept trying to rush Dawson, but he refused. Again and again, he drove me to the brink of madness. By the time his lips were mapping their way across my belly, my breath was coming in sharp pants.
Finally, finally, he rose, his palms gliding down my sides to catch the waistband of my skirt. Happy to help, I lifted my hips as he slid it down over my legs, and I kicked it free from my ankles. Frantic for more, I hooked a finger in the edge of my panties only to feel his hand curl over mine and hear his low command. “Not yet.”
“Oh, my God!” I burst out. “You’re bossy.”
His answering chuckle sent shivers chasing over my skin as he leaned down and trailed hot kisses up the inside of my thigh. He released my hand, his palm sliding in a heated path over the sensitive skin along the inside of my hip. With gentle pressure, he nudged my thighs apart.
I was quivering, wondering distantly if I could climax without him ever touching me where I so desperately wanted his touch. My hips bucked when his fingers trailed over the wet silk. His stubble grazed across the skin on my thigh, the slight sensation spinning into and heightening all the others racing through me. I felt as if I were going to fly apart.
He muttered something before rising and doing me the favor of finally sliding my panties down over my legs. My thighs were damp from my arousal.
“Evie, you’re soaked, sweetheart. Prettiest pussy I ever saw.”
My belly flipped at his blunt appraisal and the way he said sweetheart. My orgasm almost crashed over me when he teased his fingers through my slick heat. I bit my lip to keep from moaning.
He seemed to sense just how close to the edge I was. When my hips rocked into his touch, he sank two thick fingers into my core and circled his thumb over my clit. In seconds, I was crying out, chanting his name and telling him I couldn’t wait anymore.
His fingers delved deeper, and he swirled his tongue around my clit. Pleasure exploded, narrowing to the sharp point at my center and scattering hot sparks through my body as I shuddered. My orgasm hit me so hard, I was nearly incoherent when he drew back.
When I felt Dawson move away, I managed to open my eyes to see him standing and kicking his jeans free. He caught them in one hand, tugging his wallet out and tossing a condom on the bed beside me.
When his briefs followed, my mouth watered to see all of him bared to me. Dawson was a glorious specimen of a man. His body was tall and rangy, his easy strength evident in the grace of every movement.
Despite the pleasure still pinging through my body, need began to build inside me again. I reached for him. I felt caught, held fast in the grip of a desire so pure, I didn’t think it would be slaked until he was buried inside me.
Even then, I didn’t know if that would be enough.
“Hurry,” I heard myself say, my voice ragged.
Snatching the condom off the bed, he ripped the packet with his teeth. His smoky gaze held mine as he rolled it on, the mattress dipping with his weight when his knee landed between my thighs. In a flash, his hard, muscled body came down over me. I sighed, curling my legs around his hips, frantic for him to fill me.
The thick crown of his cock nudged at my entrance. His hands slid up my sides, catching mine in his and stretching my arms over my head. I felt exposed.
“Last chance,” he murmured.
His hips rocked slightly into mine, the slide of his thick cock over my swollen clit sending a sharp, piercing pleasure through me.
On the heels of that, I gasped, “Last chance for what?”
“To tell me you don’t want this to go any further.”
My heart squeezed hard inside my chest. Not that there was any question about what I wanted at this point. Yet, somehow, for him to be explicit about it right in the heat of this, to insist I make it clear what I wanted, made me feel so cared for I was awash in emotion. I couldn’t focus on that now. I needed this—this thrumming, out of control desire—to let me shy away from just what it all might mean.