by Tracey Ward
“Find one,” I whisper. “Hurry.”
Shane is a big guy, but he’s fast on his feet. He’s gone for maybe thirty seconds before he comes back with a condom in hand and a look in his eyes that asks me if I’m sure about this.
I answer by sitting up just long enough to pull off my shirt. Then my bra. I toss both at his feet but he doesn’t look. He doesn’t move as he watches me lay back, arching my back to slowly pull my shorts down my legs. When I’m naked and trembling from the cold, Shane undresses as well. He doesn’t go slow. He’s quick and efficient, bringing his body heat back to me as a kindness to us both.
I exhale slowly as he lowers himself over me. He feels bigger than he did before. He’s so much it’s scary, but all I have to do is look into his eyes to feel safe again. He’s gentle in his eyes. He holds me steady with them as his body presses against me everywhere.
“Is this okay?” he asks again, his voice strained. He’s holding back and he’s hoping like hell I don’t tell him no. But he’s asking because that’s what nice guys do. Just because I’ve never seen it before doesn’t mean it’s a myth.
I nod shakily, bracing my hands against his shoulders. They bulge against my palms; solid as stone. “Go slow,” I whisper fiercely.
He smiles at my nervousness. He knows exactly what I’m worried about and the smug asshole is flattered by it.
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
I’d laugh, but he’s too quick. He’s sliding inside me inch by agonizing inch, and I’m gasping. I’m dying. I’m flying and floating as he does something terrible and beautiful to me. I can’t catch my breath but he keeps his promise; he goes slow.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I gasp. My eyes are wide on his. I move my hands from his shoulders to his face where I can feel stubble pricking my palms.
“Tell me to stop if you need me to,” he grunts. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
His words make my heart hurt. They make it swell to twice it’s size until I can feel it against the back of my throat, reaching for him.
Shane’s face contorts with determination. He lowers his head between his arms, letting it hang as he focuses on keeping pace. He’s almost all the way there. He has to be. It feels impossible for there to be much more of him. If there is, I’m not sure my body can take it.
I run my hands through his hair in a soothing pattern. “You can go faster, Shane.”
He shakes his head stubbornly. “Not yet.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
“It doesn’t hurt that much. And I’m tough, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Then why are—”
“I’m about to come, Sutton,” he snaps.
My hands freeze in his hair. “Seriously?”
“You’re too goddamn tight,” he breathes. “It’s killing me.”
“Then just come.”
“No.”
I scratch my nails down the back of his neck and over his shoulders encouragingly. “I don’t mind.”
“I do,” he chuckles tightly. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined this? I’ve been dying to get with you and now I’m going to lose my shit in the first minute.”
“What have you thought about?”
He raises his head to look down at me. The rest of his body is held tensely still. “What?”
“What have you imagined?” I run my hands down his chest slowly. It’s peppered with coarse, golden hair that tickles against my fingertips. I can’t stop touching him. I’ve felt him against my hands every day for weeks but now I can feel him literally everywhere and it’s like a drug. I’m drunk with it. “Were we like this?”
“No.”
“Where were we?”
Shane smiles. “On the stage.”
“The stage?” I laugh.
He winces. “Shit! Don’t laugh. You get tighter when you’re laughing.”
“Okay. Sorry. Were we alone or was everyone watching?”
“We were alone. I’d never be able to share you.”
My smile softens. “Did we dance?”
“Yeah.”
“And then?”
He shifts his weight on his arms, leaning forward just a little. “Then I kissed you.”
“Did I kiss you back?”
“Always.”
“How often do you imagine this?”
“Every damn day,” he admits huskily.
I lick my lips, pinching them between my teeth. “I have to.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Your Jeep.”
Shane smiles. His body lowers over mine a little further. A little deeper. “Night or day?”
“Night. It’s raining.”
“That’s so hot,” he moans.
“It is. We’re soaking wet and it’s hard to take our clothes off so we just work around them. You’re in the driver’s seat and I’m in your lap and I’m grinding on you slowly.”
“Is there music?”
“There’s always music with me, Shane.”
His eyes flutter as he starts to move again. In and out in a slow, easy rhythm that makes my heart give way. It floods my system, washing me in warmth that feels like the heat coming off his skin. Like we’re the same.
“You have your hands on my hips,” I whisper to him. “You’re guiding me, showing me how you like it.”
“How do I like it, Sutton?”
“You like it slow. And you like to look me in the eyes when you’re inside me.”
He’s looking down at me now with those blue eyes that always remind me of the sky, and I forget how to breathe. All I can do is feel. I feel him and the air and the heat rising in my core as my breaths and his strokes become shorter. Faster.
“I love your eyes,” he pants.
“I love your hands.”
He lays one on my chest; over my heart. He’s supporting his body on one arm but his tempo never falters. He’s a marvel of strength and tenderness that humbles me. It breaks me in two. His forehead falls against mine as he finally lets himself go and I sigh into the sweetest orgasm of my life. In that moment, I am new. I’m a meadow in the morning reborn under the rays of the sun. Baptized in drops of dew. Shane is my sky. He’s the clouds and the mountains and the rain on my fields. I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do as he holds me to him like I’m more precious than gold.
He lowers his body slowly onto mine, careful not to crush me. Leaning on his elbow, he uses his free hand to brush my hair away from my face.
“I’ll do better next time,” he vows with a self-deprecating smile.
I pull his hand to my lips, kissing his palm softly. “I’d love to see you try.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SHANE
May 31st
Eucalyptus
Los Angeles, CA
In a bar just outside the gates of the KBC lot, half the remaining cast of Dance the Night Away have swarmed. It’s a tradition after each show. We’re here for drinks and a chance to watch tonight’s episode as it replays just two hours after the live broadcast. Tonight we’re missing two football players and four dancers who have children and families to get to. The rest of us, even Tina and Vic who were voted off the show tonight, have come out to celebrate. They’re the third couple to go, bringing our numbers down to seven teams.
The one addition to the group, and she’s definitely worth noting, is Sutton. She’s never come with us to watch before, but tonight she followed me out to my car and let me lift her inside without comment or question.
“I’m so sorry you guys are gone,” Ana whines at Vic and Tina over her mudslide.
“I never expected to get very far anyway,” Vic laughs. He casts Tina an apologetic look. “Sorry, partner.”
Tina laughs at him. “I don’t mind. We had fun. No reason to be sorry.”
“She’ll get ‘em next year,” Ana giggles. “And by ‘them’ I mean us!”
I glance at Sutton sitting demurely next to me at the bar. She’s perfectly composed and dead sober. She doesn’t eat and she doesn’t drink. I don’t know how she’s alive but I’m glad she is. I have to resist the urge to reach out to touch her. I’m dying to feel the impossible softness of her skin against mine, but there are rules. Sutton made that very clear. No one, not even my friends away from the show, can know what’s happening between us. Not until after the competition is over. But whatever it is, it wasn’t a one-time thing. She’s slept over the last two nights and I’m hoping like hell she’s coming home with me again tonight.
The commercial break ends. The TV screens on the other side of the room start blaring the DNA theme music through the bar.
Sutton sparks to life, patting my arm excitedly. “Here we come.”
On the screen, the lights are low over the studio. Sutton stands in the middle, looking beautiful in her slinky black dress. She struts across the stage through the opening of the song until I meet her in the middle. We start a push and pull until the chorus hits and the lights turn red around us. We dance together in perfect form across the stage to the cheers of the crowd.
It’s weird to watch us on screen. It’s like I’m merging two memories of one moment. I can smell the studio as I watch from the bar. I feel the way I felt on the dance floor. I feel the pounding in my chest that beats against hers, knocking on a door that’s been nailed shut. But bit by bit, throughout the dance and the competition, it’s cracking open for me.
“We look good,” she whispers like she’s surprised.
I laugh, throwing my arm over the bar behind her where I can furtively run my fingertips down the naked skin on her shoulder. “We look hot.”
She takes a deep breath that only I can see. It raises her shoulder, pressing her body deeper into my touch.
Watching us on screen, our size difference looks larger than it feels when I’m holding her. We fit together better than you’d think. We’re more natural than should be possible, but it works because we work. So much more than we did the first night. You can see the confidence we have as we glide across the floor together. There’s a trust between us as I lift her, spinning her around my shoulders, down my body and onto her knees where she clings to my leg with a desperation I feel in my gut.
When our number ends, the room breaks into applause.
Sutton smiles, waving her hands at the screen. “Mute it! Mute it! I can’t listen to the judges again.”
“Me either,” Tina agrees. She lifts the remote she seduced off the bartender to silence the pompous asshats who sit in judgement over us.
I nudge Sutton gently. “Do Milan.”
Sutton laughs, shaking her head.
“What does he mean by that?” Tina asks curiously.
I look down at Sutton, eyebrows raised. I’m challenging her and she knows it. And Sutton Roe never backs down from a challenge.
“One time,” she tells me sternly. “That’s it.”
“That’s all I need.”
Sutton sits up straight, composing her face. She falls into character like she’s putting on a coat and I wish I could have seen her perform in a theater. From what I’ve seen, she’s an amazing actress.
“You’re a doll, Shane Lowry!” she cries in Milan’s thick British accent. She even gets her hand motions right. “An absolute, drop dead, doll! I love you. Both of you. I felt the power of the dance. You were in it, darlings, and I loved every second of it!”
“What score do you give them, Milan?” Brett asks, mimicking Jerry’s deep bass.
“Eight! Crazy eights! Eight! Eight! Eight!”
The room laughs at how perfect her impersonation is. Sutton covers her face like she’s embarrassed but she’s eating it up. She loves the attention almost as much as she loves winning.
“Do Desmond!” Ana demands.
“Don’t even ask,” I warn her. My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling my attention. “She won’t insult her home state with that accent.”
“Boo!”
“You do him, Ana,” Sutton laughs.
Kasian snorts. “She already did.”
“Oh!” we all laugh as one.
Ana turns deep red. She swats at Kasian angrily. “I told you to keep it a secret!”
“How can I when you cannot.”
“He’s got you there,” Tina laughs.
The rest of the room is chuckling as I frown at my phone and the message that’s just come in. It’s from Colt.
Baby is here. Get your ass to UCLA MED.
I stand abruptly. “Holy shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Sutton asks.
I run my hand over my head, smiling. “My buddy just had a baby. I mean, his girl just had a baby. His baby. There’s a baby.” I shake my head, reaching for my coat laid across the bar. “I’ve gotta go.”
“You can’t drive.”
I hesitate, glancing at the bar behind me.
Two beers. One shot.
Shit.
I look at Sutton’s drink next to mine. Drink. Singular. Water.
I toss her my keys. “You drive.”
“What? No,” she protests, her face aghast. “I can’t drive that thing.”
“And I can’t fit in your car. We’ve been over this.”
“Shane.”
“Can you drive a stick?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can drive it.” I look her in the eyes. I give her the soulful stare that she hates. The one that I know makes her weak but I can’t ever let on that I know because then she’ll steel herself to it and my superpower will be dead. “Please.”
I can feel her defenses breaking down even as she frowns at me.
“Yes, alright,” she mutters, sliding down off her stool.
“Drive careful!” Tina shouts to her. “And tell the new mom congratulations, Shane!”
“I will! Thanks!”
There’s a chorus of goodbyes that follows us out of the bar and onto the sidewalk. It’s dusk. That in-between time of day when the temperature starts dropping with the sun.
Without a word, I drape my jacket over Sutton’s small shoulders.
She looks up at me with a grateful smile.
“Thanks for doing this,” I tell her.
“You didn’t leave me much choice.”
“You could have said no.”
“And I could have looked like a raging bitch in front of everyone.”
“You worry about looking like a bitch a lot.”
“Maybe because people think I am a lot.”
“You know how you could change that?”
“Surround myself with different people?” she asks drolly.
I smile. “You could try being nice.”
“No. I’m good.” She motions to my car parked right up against the curb. “What the hell is that, anyway?”
“What?”
“The big black pipe coming out of the side.”
“That’s the snorkel.”
She snorts. “Are you serious? Why does your car need a snorkel? Is it going scuba diving on the weekends?”
“It could. That’s why I have it.”
I lift her up inside. I have to resist the urge to give her a kiss as I do it, but the windows on the bar are big and the street is not empty. I settle for copping a feel of her ass instead.
When I climb in on my side, she gives me a blank stare. She kicks her feet fecklessly over the open air under the dash. They don’t even come close to touching the pedals.
“The seat slides forward,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I know. Thanks. I’m just pointing out how ridiculous it is that I’m driving this thing.”
“Got it. Can we go?”
“Hold on.” She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, securing it with a black band she had wrapped around her wrist. “I have to use my thing.”
&nbs
p; “It’s good you started carrying one. It’s like you know I’m never putting the doors back on.”
“What happens if it rains?”
I grin. “We get wet, Sutton. Remember? Real wet.”
She rolls her eyes. “I should never have told you about that.”
“Fuck that. I love that story. I want to hear it every night before I go to bed.”
“If you play your cards right, you just might.”
Sutton practically has to hug the steering wheel to get close enough to touch the pedals, but she finally gets there. She grinds the hell out of my gears getting it into reverse. I wince but I don’t say a word. My baby can take it. She could catch on fire and keep rolling. She can definitely handle Sutton.
“Who is this we’re going to see?” she asks as she pulls into traffic.
“Trey and Sloane. Trey is my quarterback.”
“He’s the reason you were ejected from the Super Bowl?”
“No. I’m the reason I was ejected. But the guy I hit was giving Trey shit. He spit on him. It was over the line.”
“Are you friends with his wife as well?”
“Girlfriend, and yeah. Sloane is close with most of us on the team and she’s Colt’s agent.”
Sutton snorts. “I still can’t get over the fact that you know a guy named ‘Colt’?”
“You know a girl named ‘Ginger’.” I look at her sideways. “You really wanna start this with me?”
“No. Never mind.”
“And Fiona.”
“I said no,” she barks.
“Did you feel that? I just won an argument with you.”
She glares at me out of the corner of her eye.
“Sutton?”
No answer.
“Sutton!”
“What?!”
“I won.”
“I know!” she shouts heatedly.
I can make her moan my name like she’s begging me for her next breath, but the sight of her angry like that is still one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. I’ll never get tired of antagonizing her.
Once we’re on the freeway, I’m glad I gave her my jacket because the wind is whipping cold around us. She looks so small inside it. The sleeves are bunched up around her thin wrists and she had to wrap the front over her body twice to pin it closed with her seatbelt. I open my mouth to ask her if she’s warm enough but her face is so focused on the road, I don’t bother her. I sit back in my seat and text Colt for an update on the baby.