by C. M. Owens
Dane's kiss is... damn. It's carnal, raw, desperate, as though he's felt the same way I have these past six years. And I can't get enough.
Before I know what's going on, a door is being kicked shut, I'm on a bed, and Dane's body is pressed against me, pinning me to the mattress. Torrid breaths, garbled moans, and whispered words neither of us understands are the only sounds we hear for several, long, incredible minutes.
"Rain, you'd better be sure about this, because it won't be just one night this time," he says against my lips, and my heart contracts to the point of pain.
I break the kiss to look up into his piercing greens. I'm almost positive that's my heart beating and not some set of Jumanji drums, but I can't be certain.
"What?" I ask in a rasp whisper.
His half-cocked smile makes my already frantic heartbeat become all the more erratic as he brushes some of my hair away from my face. His dark hair is a little messier now that my hands have been tangled in the silky strands, but he looks just as sexy even with it all disheveled.
"I said this will be more than just one night. It won't be like last time. If you want this, you get me. All of me. And tomorrow we won't be friends. We'll be more. If you're sober enough to do this, then you're sober enough to make this decision right now."
Decision? What decision? If I want this? He knows better. I've wanted this since we were kids, and... I wrote a letter... and... there were so many... I'm so frigging confused.
"I get you—all of you? What does that mean? And why can't we be friends?"
He studies me for a moment, measuring me possibly, and then he looks anywhere but in my eyes.
"We'll be friends, but not just friends. And none of that friends with benefits bullshit either. If we do this, then it's for real. Right now is that crossroads you hear so much about. If we walk out of this room before anything happens, we can go back to how we were. If we take this further, then... you're mine. It's pretty simple."
Simple? Where Dane and I are concerned, nothing has ever been simple. The Da Vinci Code is simpler than us.
"I'm yours?" I ask slowly, still trying to wrap my mind around this, because I think dreams only come true in Disney movies. Pinocchio becomes a real boy. Cinderella gets to stop scrubbing the floors and rides shotgun in a pumpkin. Sleeping Beauty gets to wake up. Snow White gets to wake up, too. Shrek and Fiona... no, wait; that's not Disney.
His grin essentially makes it impossible to breathe, much less recite useless information, as he leans in and kisses me, stealing what's left of my cognitive functions.
"Yes," he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. "And I'm yours. If you want this."
Yep. Fairly sure I've gotten too drunk, passed out, and now I'm having the best dream ever. Either that or I'm dead and I was allowed into heaven—or hell, depending on how the rest of this plays out. I hope I'm in heaven. I'll kick the devil in the balls if this is his form of torture.
"Rain?" Dane prompts, laughing nervously as he runs his finger down the curve of my jaw. "The suspense is killing me, baby. Is it really that big of a decision? I thought these past few weeks have been leading up to this. Mixed signals have always been an issue for us. For tonight, say exactly what you mean and tell me what you want."
He aims for joking, but it sounds as though he's unsure and possibly a little... insecure? Dane Sterling insecure? That's ridiculous.
But mixed signals? I've never given him mixed signals. That was always him.
"So we'll... be together?" I ask, my voice cracking pathetically with too much hopefulness.
"Yes," he says too slowly, mocking me a little.
I look like Wonder Woman in the next two seconds when I launch myself up, tackle him to the bed, and almost suffocate him with my ravenous kiss. He starts to laugh, but it turns into a toe-curling moan as his grip tightens on me.
Being on top has its advantages, considering I can press all my weight on him and feel every inch of his body against me. And his body is definitely something I want to feel more of.
He's mine. I can't believe that he said he's mine.
"Dane!" Corbin yells, prompting both of us to groan in unison.
"Go. The fuck. Away," Dane yells back, his hold on me never loosening.
"Rain, you're both drunk. Don't do this right—Ow! Fucking son of a bitch glass," Corbin rants, earning a chuckle from both of us as glass clanks around on the floor. "Did you two destroy the house on fucking purpose?"
Dane's laughter roars free, and I lean up, ready to strangle that best friend of ours. Corbin is still muttering curses, probably regretting being barefoot as he braves the path of collateral damage we left in our wake, and I glare at the unlocked door. His balls are going in a souvenir jar as a warning to the world if he opens that door.
"Corbin," Dane says through a small snicker, "I'd walk away if I were you. I'm pretty sure your balls depend on it right now."
He knows me well.
"Tell Rain to put her death glare away. You two can't fuck while you're drunk. And I'd be a shitty friend if I let you."
Yep. Poor Corbin will be castrated before the night is over.
"Be a shitty friend, or sing soprano for the rest of your life. Your choice," I say ominously, still glaring at the door, waiting on him to be a total cock-block so I can unleash hell.
The hallway grows silent, and Dane and I stay in our very intimate position, both of us quietly watching and waiting. After a few minutes, Corbin curses more, and walks away to where we hear muttered arguments.
A few things are said about threats and castration, which means he made the smart decision, and I turn my attention back to a grinning Dane.
"Moment ruined?" he asks, daring to pretend as though I'd let him out of here now that he's promised himself to me.
"Chickening out already?" I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
A slight squeal escapes me when I'm tossed onto my back, and Dane's hard, strong body becomes positioned between my legs once more. The glint in his eyes is anything but humorous right now. Determination has a look, and this is it.
"No, Rain. No more mind-fucking games," he says, confusing me before crushing his lips to mine.
After that, all other thoughts are pretty much banished, because it's impossible to think when Dane Sterling's tongue is doing wicked things inside your mouth. It's even harder to think when that same devilish tongue is working its way down your body.
"Damn dress. I think you enjoy driving me out of my fucking mind," he murmurs as the bottom of my dress starts sliding up, slowly leaving me exposed with nothing but the thin shreds of lace covering me.
As the dress hits the floor, Dane stares down at my body and mutters something about me not going anywhere this time, but I can't ask him to clarify because that damn tongue is back on me. Only this time, it's very close to where I've fantasized about it being for... a very long time.
We skipped the foreplay when we were kids because, well, we were kids. The second Dane slips my underwear to the side and presses his tongue right where I want him to, I regret not having foreplay.
Some embarrassing noise escapes my lips in a half-cry/half-whimpering medley, but that only earns a growl from Dane as he works his tongue in a way that is very illegal in many countries. He slowly peels my panties down, his mouth moving only briefly. Then his lips find me again as he pushes my panties down my legs. If I've ever shattered quicker, I can't remember it.
My panties never even made it all the way off me. They're stopped somewhere between my knees and my thighs.
His name tears through my lips, and my body stiffens while also trying to tremble, as a series of overwhelming aftershocks violently travel through me. Dane's smile against my most sensitive area doesn't exactly help things. Even his breath is driving me crazy right now.
"You didn't give me time to enjoy that for very long, and I've waited a while to do it," he teases, and if I wasn't so utterly spent right now, I would probably blush or at least have the decency to be embarras
sed.
I'm panting as though I just did something strenuous, and no words leave my mouth when I open it. Shit. Did I forget how to speak?
Wet lips on mine decimate the incoherent thoughts in my mind as my body moves on its own. Idly, I realize my panties are now gone, but my bra is still on me. Dane's body is very clothed, and I don't like it.
My hands tangle in his hair again as that talented tongue finds its way inside my mouth once more. His hands travel over me, touching me in places I never thought they would again, and they reacquaint themselves with my somewhat different body. I'm not an eighteen-year-old girl anymore, and judging by his throaty moans, he approves.
Even though my arms now feel like they weigh fifty pounds apiece, I manage to pull Dane's shirt over his head with a less than graceful motion. He chuckles as I limply tug him back to me.
When's the last time I had sex? I can't remember.
"You're cute after you've had an or—"
I cut him off by kissing him hard, because I don't want to be cute right now. I want to be irresistible or sexy or anything but frigging cute.
My bra is either broken or unclipped—unsure which one—and then tossed to the floor, leaving me completely bare beneath him. I've always been a little uncomfortable when I'm naked around a guy, but not with Dane. Everything feels so... right.
I reach for him, fumbling with his very uncooperative belt and zipper. I'm two seconds away from screaming in frustration when Dane takes pity on me, laughing a little before he gets rid of those damn shorts.
When his boxers are the only thing separating us, I might whimper. Just a little. My fantasy is on top of me, his lips and tongue are on my body, and his hands are strumming me in places that make my eyes roll back and my toes curl.
I reach into his boxers—on purpose this time—and take his firm flesh into my hand, tugging at him as I gauge his size with a whole new appreciation. He trembles a little, and then reaches down and places his hand over mine.
"Fucking shit, Rain. We can't... Fuck, we can't do this," he groans, letting out a few more curses.
Someone is going to die tonight.
"Why?" That comes out harsher than I intended, but damn. He's killing me.
His deep laugh doesn't amuse me. It only pisses me off more because I'm drowning in frustration right now.
"I don't have any condoms. It's not like I foresaw this coming. And I doubt any of the guys are going to toss me one, considering it's you I'm in here with."
He doesn't have condoms? Dane Sterling, the man with a reputation as expansive as Tag Masters, doesn't have condoms? So this is hell.
"Why?" I ask, coming off accusatory.
He frowns as he looks down at me, and opens his mouth to speak. After a few seconds he closes it and shrugs.
I'm naked, he's in just his boxers, and we're on a bed. There's no turning back. It's not like I can get pregnant—really don't need to think about that right now because I might cry, and that would kill this mood completely.
If this were anyone else, I'd refuse to do this without a condom. But it's Dane. Despite his reputation, I know damn well he's not going to do anything that could put me in jeopardy. If there was a risk of him having something, we wouldn't have even made it this far.
"I'm... on birth control," I say, ignoring the sting of the truth, and making a calculated maneuver to hide my eyes in an effort to conceal my telltale sign of lying. "Is there any other reason you need a—"
My words are cut off when his lips crush mine and deliver a bruising, hungry kiss. Apparently I just said the magic words.
He rustles between my legs, never breaking our kiss, as he removes his boxers. Without any warning, he thrusts inside me. All it takes is one, gloriously rough stroke, and he's buried deep, making that mortifying moan escape me again.
I'll be embarrassed about my inability to show composure some other time. Right now, Dane Sterling is inside me, stretching me, and making me feel as though my world is perfect in this moment.
"I forgot how fucking incredible you feel," he murmurs against my neck, keeping his body still inside me as though he's afraid to move.
I arch my hips, and though it shouldn't be physically possible, he goes deeper, touching a place deep inside me that stirs a belly-clenching reaction. Oh damn. Dane Sterling really doesn't have a fault.
He mutters something about not going to be able to last long, but no words really capture my attention right now. Especially when he starts his rhythmic, rocking motion. Each thrust seems to get even deeper as he pulls back and surges forth. And every time he does it, my girly cries get louder.
I've lost control of my body, my sounds, my volume... everything. I'm his to do with as he pleases, because I truly belong to him.
He tugs my hair, making my head fall back so that he has the perfect angle to kiss me, while his body continues to rule mine, offering nothing but ecstasy. Kissing becomes impossible when my breaths evolve to be erratic and harsh, so I break it off, reveling in his touch as my body writhes beneath him.
The tightening inside me is almost painful in the best possible way. A myriad of emotions and sensations pass through me at once, driving me into the land of divinity as my release comes out epically.
Stars. There really are fucking stars. And the explosions behind my eyelids are announced by my completely foreign scream—a sound I didn't even know I was capable of.
Dane thrusts inside me hard one last time, stilling himself within me as a grunt slides through his lips, followed by a breath of reverence. When he drops to my body, his breaths coat my ear with the sound of hard labor. I'm torn between laughing and crying. Neither are appropriate, but I choose laughter.
He raises up as the bubbling sound slithers free, and he tilts his head, looking a little wounded.
"I really don't know how I did anything funny just then."
That only makes me laugh harder as I wrap my arms around him. So sad. I'm too young to be so crazy.
"You didn't do anything funny," I say through the delirious chuckles.
"I can tell," he mumbles dryly, acting offended.
His brow scrunches in confusion as he adjusts his weight, moving off me just barely, but still keeping me beneath him. My uncontrollable laughter continues, confusing him more.
I honestly think that thread of sanity has just snapped.
"That was... um... wow," I finally say, still giggling a little. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
His smile forms, and he shakes his head while pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You realize this means you're mine. You just sealed the deal."
I'm his. This is surreal.
"And you're mine," I murmur with my goofy grin still spreading, pulling him back down by the neck.
Even though we try to kiss, our stupid smiles make it impossible. Dane Sterling is mine.
Chapter 11
DANE
Waking up with Rain's naked body wrapped around me has always been a fantasy of mine. This morning, it's real.
Her blonde hair is splayed across my chest, arm, and pillow, and she's wound around me as tightly as she can get. I'm almost positive this stupid grin of mine is never going anywhere.
She mumbles something in her sleep about children, and then she whimpers, but she breathes me in and settles back into me peacefully almost just as quickly. Her lips look so soft in the mornings, and I happen to know they're just as soft as they look. I could have spent the night pretending we were teenagers.
There's always today.
That thought makes my ridiculous grin grow even bigger.
A scraping sound draws my attention to the door, and the trail of debris we left behind last night springs to mind. I need to get it cleaned up before Rain wakes up and cuts her foot on something.
Why am I still smiling? It's official. I have perma-grin.
Carefully and quietly, I disentangle myself from the girl I've loved since I was thirteen. She's mine. Finally, after the hell I've gone through for the past six
years, she's mine.
I kiss her softly on the lips, keeping it light enough not to disturb her, and I'm rewarded by a smile she doesn't even know she's giving me. I just watch her while pulling on a pair of shorts, praying this isn't some elaborate dream.
Without letting the door make a sound, I slip out and head down the hall. The sound of glass scraping against the tile becomes more distinct as I near the kitchen, and I see a wave of platinum blonde hair as Tria sweeps the floor.
"I'll get that," I say while cautiously watching my steps.
She squeals and jerks around, shocked by my presence. This is my house, so why she's so surprised I'm here is beyond me.
"Sorry," I murmur, my brow cocked in amusement.
She covers her chest with her hand while taking a deep breath.
"I didn't wake you up, did I?" she asks, her eyes moving down the hallway, probably searching for Rain.
"Nah. I always wake up early."
Messing with my coffeemaker is always a task, but this morning, coffee is already brewing.
"D'you crash here last night?" I ask, grabbing three cups from the cabinet.
"Um... yeah. Sorry. I sort of couldn't drive. Rye offered to take me home, but given how... well, I didn't want to risk doing something stupid, so he put me to bed in here instead."
I laugh lightly while shaking my head. "Rye wouldn't have messed with you if you were that bad off. He's decent enough. He just looks rough around the edges."
She shifts her weight uncomfortably, and then she bends to sweep some of the glass into the dustpan. As she dumps it into the trashcan, she meets my eyes again.
"Is Rain going to be upset that I stayed? I... it's pathetic, but I was actually hoping to talk to her. I... There's something I need to tell her about... something she needs to know about... Never mind. It's... just forget it."
I frown while she turns her back to me and puts the broom and dustpan against the wall.
"What's going on?"
She doesn't look at me or acknowledge that I've asked anything. After a breath, she turns back with a forced smile on her lips.