His mind struggled to understand the words. He knew what he wanted her to mean, what he hoped she meant. But that didn’t mean that’s what she was really saying. “You, uh, you wanted to pretend what?”
“That I was dreaming.” Her hand slid down his arm to his ass and squeezed. He sucked in a breath then groaned when her fingers closed around him once more, stroking. Seconds went by as he fought with himself, fought not to give into the insanity spreading through him with each long stroke of his cock.
He shuddered and reached down, closing his hand over her own and stopping her. But not moving her hand away. Not yet. Not just yet. “Maggie, I need you to wake up.”
“I am awake. Very much awake.”
But was she? He forced his eyes open and looked down at her. She was watching him, hesitation and desire clear in her eyes.
Her wakeful eyes.
“Are you sure you’re awake? Like, really awake?” She nodded. Her fingers tightened around his cock, squeezing as she wiggled under him again. He sucked in another breath. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s the medication—”
“It’s not the medication.”
“But your wrist—”
“I’ll survive.”
There were other arguments he needed to make, he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out what they were, not with the way her hand kept teasing him. Not with the way her soft body kept moving under his, torturing him. He closed his eyes, a sigh-turned-moan escaping him as she moved her hand under his, stroking him.
“Maggie, are you sure—”
“Yes.”
That was all he needed. He thrust his hips toward her, his hand tightening over hers, teaching her how he liked to be stroked. Over and over until it was almost too much to bear. Then he pulled away and pushed to his knees, practically ripping off his shirt. He struggled to pull the wallet from the back of his jeans, flipped it open and dug for the condoms that should be in there. Please, God, let them be in there—
Yes, thank you. He tossed them on the bed then twisted, yanking off his jeans and briefs and socks. Who knew where they landed. And who cared? Not him, not by a long shot.
Maggie shifted on the bed, reaching for him. He grinned and captured her arm, stopping her. “No. It’s my turn.”
He pulled her to a sitting position, his mouth capturing hers for a long hard kiss. It would be so easy to lose himself in the kiss but he couldn’t, not yet. Not just yet.
He trailed his hands along her sides, capturing the hem of her sweater and pulling it up. She tugged, pulling her right arm from the sleeve. Her body tensed and he knew she was trying to do the same with her left arm. He grinned and shook his head. “No.”
“But—”
“I said no.” He kissed her then pulled away and eased the sweater down her left arm. But he didn’t take it all the way off, just left it hanging from her arm. He grabbed her hips and tugged, pulling her down on the bed so she was stretched out. Then he eased her left arm out to the side and looped the free material around the end spindle of the headboard and back over her arm, just below her elbow. That done, he grabbed a pillow and gently placed it under her wrist then leaned over her and kissed her again.
“Don’t move your arm. No matter what.”
“But—”
He cut her off with another kiss, this one longer. Deeper. She sighed, giving into the kiss as he stretched his body along hers. And fuck, he could lose it just from her kisses. He didn’t remember ever being so turned on from just a kiss. Or maybe it wasn’t just the kiss. Maybe it was the way her body hummed and the way little tremors prickled her bare skin everywhere he touched. Or maybe it was the way she surrendered herself to him, so open and trusting.
He dragged his hand along her side, to the waistband of her leggings. She raised her hips, allowing him to push the material away, down to her thighs. Then he moved his hand up, his fingers caressing the soft skin of her inner thigh. Up, higher, higher still until he dragged the tip of his thumb across the soft flesh between her legs. Wet, hot, as smooth and soft and bare as the skin of her thighs.
He groaned and pulled his mouth from hers, struggling to suck in air. “You are so fucking wet.”
Maggie moaned, her head dropping to the side as he ran his thumb along her clit. Over and over, the tiny nub of flesh hardening beneath his touch. She moaned again and raised her hips, rocking against his touch. Her legs moved, trying to open for him.
He moved his hand away, dragging the wet tip of his thumb along her legs. He slid down the bed and grabbed the leggings, yanking them off and tossing them to the side. Maggie sighed and shifted, bending her legs and letting them drop to the side.
Dillon kneeled in front of her and ran the tips of his fingers up each leg. Gentle, soft, barely grazing her skin. Slow, inch by agonizing inch, until he reached the damp folds of her pussy. Her hips bucked and she brought her knees closer to her chest, opening herself even more.
“Fuck.” The word left him in a harsh growl. The sound was filled with wonder, impatience, desire. Need. So much need. All that and more. He shifted to his side and lowered his head, his mouth closing over the sweet saltiness of her damp flesh. Her hips thrust up, a long moan escaping her as he ran his tongue along her clit. Licking, tasting. Over and over, each flick of his tongue harder as her hips pumped against his mouth.
“Dillon.” His name was a harsh whisper, uttered between ragged breaths. He moved his mouth from her clit and dropped kisses along her inner thigh, down to her knee and back up. He watched, holding his breath as she ran a hand across her chest. She pulled one nipple, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger with a soft moan as her body gently rocked against the mattress.
He watched, mesmerized, as she played with her nipples. First one, then the other. Pinching, pulling. His cock grew even harder, twitching in need every time she touched herself.
“Fuck. That is so fucking hot.” Her eyes fluttered open and she dropped her hand to the side, as if she hadn’t realized what she was doing. “No, don’t stop.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, chewing in hesitation. And fuck, he so didn’t want her to stop. Didn’t she know how fucking hot that was? He shifted to his knees and moved closer to her, settling between her legs until the tip of his cock brushed against her wet clit. He clenched his jaw as heat and need swept through him. Not yet. He pushed the need away and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking, letting her watch and hoping she’d do the same. That she’d touch herself again because he was doing the same.
“Please, Maggie. Don’t stop. I want to watch.” And fuck, was that his voice, so full of desperate need? Yes, it was. And he didn’t care, not when her hand skimmed along her side and moved back to her breast, her fingers teasing each nipple.
And then, holy fuck, she dragged her hand along her stomach, down to her pussy. Her fingers hovered over her bare flesh, hesitating for a long second. Dillon stopped stroking, stopped breathing, waiting to see what she would do.
She lowered her hand, her middle finger resting against her clit. And then she started rubbing, her touch light at first, then harder as her hips rocked. A shuddering breath echoed in the warm air surrounding them. His? Hers? Dillon didn’t care, not when all he could focus on was the sight of Maggie playing with her clit.
He groaned and moved his hand away from his cock, reaching out to run the tips of his fingers along her bare flesh. Then he spread her lips apart, opening her even more. She groaned, the sound high and keening. Her finger rubbed harder. Faster. Against her clit, down to dip inside her pussy, back to her clit. Over and over. Faster, harder, until she dug her heels into the mattress and raised her ass into the air with a strangled cry.
“Dillon. Please. I want you inside me. I need you to fuck me. Now.”
Holy fuck. Holy shit.
Dillon’s breath lodged in his chest as he stretched across her shuddering body, reaching for the condoms. He grabbed one, yanked it open and rolled it down his cock with trembling fingers. Then
he grabbed her hips and held her writhing body still as he drove into her.
Sweet holy fuck. She was wet, tight, her pussy already convulsing around him. Squeezing, teasing. Dillon threw his head back and closed his eyes, lost to everything but sensation as Maggie climaxed around his cock.
He held himself still, reveling in her wet heat, then pumped his hips, driving into her. In, out. Slow at first, then faster. Deeper. Over and over. Nails raked against his left thigh, scoring flesh and sending a new pleasure shooting through him as he pounded into her.
“Again.” He didn’t think she heard, didn’t think she understood. Hell, he didn’t understand himself. But then she dragged her nails along his skin again, her groan matching his. “Fuck. Yes. Don’t stop.”
His hips pumped, faster and faster, his balls drawing tighter. She met each thrust, her nails digging into him, her high-pitched breaths drowning out his own. In. Out. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
She screamed again, her pussy clamping around his cock in one long pulse. Dillon groaned and thrust once more, lights exploding behind his eyes as his climax shattered the air around him.
He held himself still, his cock twitching in release as Maggie pulsed around him. Time slowed, stopped, disappeared until there was nothing left except his body entwined with Maggie’s. A final shudder went through him and he fell forward, no longer able to bear his own weight. He caught himself at the last minute, shifting so he didn’t crush Maggie. He draped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Her breathing echoed his own: deep, harsh, almost panting. He should say something. Something reassuring, something romantic or sweet. But his mind was blank, and he didn’t have the energy to search for the right words.
Maggie shifted closer, her breath warm against his neck. She murmured something but he couldn’t make it out.
“What was that?”
“I said I think that was the best dream I ever had.”
Somehow Dillon found the energy to chuckle. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and tightened his arm around her. “Yeah. Me too. Now get some sleep.”
A quiet murmur was the only sound he heard. A small smile played with the corners of his mouth as the darkness spread around him, pulling him into a deep slumber.
Chapter Sixteen
“You two look guilty. Why do you look so guilty?”
Maggie almost choked on the tea. She tossed a panicked glance at Dillon but he wasn’t any help. He just sat there, sprawled out in the sac, a heavy book open on his lap. His hair was still damp from their shower and he had changed clothes, thanks to carrying extras in a bag he kept in his car. He met her gaze, one eyebrow shooting up in silent question.
Or maybe it was a reminder. No, it was a silent question. She thought. Maybe. Cripes, she couldn’t think straight, not when he was sitting there like that, a small grin on his face. Heat filled her face and she looked away, carefully avoiding Cindy’s curious look.
“You still look guilty. You know that, right?”
“I think you’re reading too much into things.”
“Hm. I don’t think so.” She moved into the room and closed the door, then stopped. A frown creased her face but at least this time, it wasn’t directed at Maggie—it was directed at Dillon. “You’re sitting in my chair.”
“What?” He looked up, his bewilderment clear.
Cindy stepped closer and placed a hand on her hip, giving him her evil-eye. The look would have been more effective if she didn’t look so much like a pixie, with her short blond hair and slightly tilted green eyes. “You’re in my chair.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know—”
Cindy waved him off then turned back to Maggie. “Is this what I have to look forward to now? Him being here all the time, worming his way in, stealing my chair?”
Maggie knew she was joking, she could tell from the gleam of amusement flashing in her eyes. She shook her head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh sure. Forget all about the bestie now that the hottie is sleeping with you. Uh-huh. I see how it is.”
Maggie smothered a laugh. Not so much at Cindy’s words, although they were bad enough. No, it was Dillon’s reaction that made her laugh. His face turned beet red and he struggled to jump from the sac, not an easy feat when he was trying to juggle a book, papers, and a drink.
He finally stood, a small wince crossing his face as he rubbed at his left thigh. Heat rushed to Maggie’s own face as memories from last night flooded back to her. She still couldn’t believe how out of control she’d been—or how much she had dug into his leg with her short nails. Dug? No, more like gouged.
More than once.
Three times, to be exact. And the only reason it hadn’t been more than that was because Dillon had run out of condoms. That didn’t stop their earlier shower play, though. Why would it, when he had a creative streak running through him?
“Oh yeah, you two are so guilty.” Cindy laughed and pushed by Dillon, dropping into the sac. She waved her hand and pointed behind her. “You can go sit on the bed. Normally I would, but somehow I don’t think Maggie’s had the chance to wash the sheets yet.”
“Cindy!” Maggie croaked her friend’s name.
“What? The walls are thin. You know that.”
“Oh God, I can’t believe—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Cindy leaned forward, her eyes turning serious. Well, mostly serious. A little. “So how’s your wrist? Better? Or did you hurt it again during your marathon sessions last night? And this morning?”
“I—” Maggie snapped her mouth shut, finally refusing the bait. Cindy was having too much fun with the teasing and she’d keep at it if Maggie kept reacting. Better to just ignore the teasing and focus on her wrist.
She looked down at it, gently moving it back and forth. Still a little swollen, a little sore, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Dillon had wrapped it for her and made sure she kept ice on it—when they weren’t otherwise occupied. The throbbing was more of an annoyance than anything else right now, so she had opted for ibuprofen instead of a pain pill. She might take one of them tonight, before bed, if it still hurt.
Unless she was otherwise occupied, of course.
She ignored the blush creeping up her face and shrugged in Cindy’s direction. “It’s not too bad. Definitely better.”
“Good, that means we can go out for something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Cindy, we were studying—”
“Is that what they call it now?”
“You’re not funny.”
“Yes I am, you just don’t want to admit it.” She flopped back in the sac and looked over at Dillon. The poor guy—he was still standing there in the middle of the room, a slightly dazed look on his face. Probably trying to figure out if he should make a run for it or not. Maggie couldn’t blame him, not when she sometimes felt the same way under Cindy’s onslaughts. He’d get used to it, though.
Maybe. Oh, what was she doing? One night and already she was making long-term plans. Was she insane? She didn’t want long-term. Dillon probably didn’t want long-term. It was just one night. And okay, she hoped it would be more than just one night. But not like that. They’d have some fun and enjoy themselves until his tutoring sessions stopped, and that would be it. They were both grown adults. Mature adults. No expectations, just some fun.
Sure. Absolutely. Just some fun. That was it.
“Hellooooo.”
Maggie jerked in the chair, startled by Cindy’s voice. Oh yeah, she was busted. She shot Cindy a careful look, silently begging her not to ask why she had been zoning out. Cindy narrowed her eyes then shrugged—silent code to let Maggie know she’d be getting interrogated later. Fine. She could handle later.
“So. About that food. Can we go get something to eat now?”
Dillon stepped forward, still looking a little lost but at least more lively. “I, uh, I need to go anyway. I have to get my workout in before this evening.”
Was it Maggie’s imaginati
on, or did he actually blush? Yes, he was blushing because some of his freckles were more visible. He tossed Cindy an odd look then stopped in front of Maggie and leaned down to kiss her.
A full-blown, mind-blowing, deep, thorough kiss. With tongue. Maggie leaned into him, a little moan tickling the back of her throat as she wrapped her good hand in his shirt and held on. Cripes, but he could kiss. And she suddenly wanted more than a kiss. Much more.
Until she realized Cindy was still there, giggling and squealing with delight.
Dillon pulled away with a rough growl, frustration clear in his gaze. He tossed a look over his shoulder then dropped another kiss on her, this time a quick one on her forehead. “I’ll see you in a few hours?”
It was a question, not a statement. Warmth spread throughout Maggie and she nodded. “I’ll be here.”
“Good.” He leaned to the side and grabbed a treat from the bowl on her desk then dropped it into Slinky’s cage. “I’ll be back.”
Maggie could only nod, certain her mouth was hanging open. She looked over and saw a similar expression on Cindy’s face. He just fed Slinky! Nobody had ever done that before, with the exception of Cindy. Nobody.
“Oh. My. God.” The words fell from Cindy’s mouth in a squeal as soon as Dillon closed the door behind him. She bounced up and down in the sac, her legs swinging wildly in her excitement. “He is so hot. And cute. And hot. And ohmygod, so hot.”
“Did you see that?”
“Uh, yeah. How could I miss it? What a kiss! Tongue and everything. Right in front of me.”
“I wasn’t talking about the kiss. He fed Slinky.”
“I saw that, too, but it wasn’t nearly as exciting as that kiss.” She waved a hand in front of her face with a dramatic flair. “I think I need a cold shower. Or time with George. Or maybe time with George in the shower.”
“Okay, no. I don’t need to hear about George.”
“You had no problems hearing about George before. Or even George’s twin, who I’m pretty sure is resting up in the top drawer of your dresser. Guess you won’t be needing him for a while, huh?”
One-Timer (The Baltimore Banners Book 9) Page 11