by Mimi Strong
He tosses me on the bed with enough force that my arms fly back. I catch my breath and start to laugh.
He locks on my eyes again, and I stop laughing. The sun is setting outside, and amber light is streaming in the windows across from the bedroom loft. His dark brown eyes are flecked with gold in this light, and his skin looks like honey.
His voice a low rumble, he asks, “How are you feeling?”
I sit up and take off my shoes, muttering about how I don’t usually wear my shoes on people’s beds.
Dylan grabs my bare ankles and moves my legs apart. I’m wearing a gray skirt and blouse. It’s not what I would have worn to come see him, but I did come straight from work. The slim skirt rides up as he pulls my legs further apart.
He asks me again, “How… are you?” He looks pointedly at my underwear, now visible. I’m embarrassed that I’m still wearing virginal white cotton panties, but they’re all I have right now.
I realize what he’s asking about. Am I still sore inside? I’m not sore, but I’m scared this time might hurt.
“Jess, you have to talk to me. I want to make you feel good.” He lets go of my ankles, pulls his shirt off in one movement, and starts unbuckling his belt.
This is happening fast.
I push myself to sit up and start unbuttoning my blouse.
He drops his jeans and climbs onto the bed in his underwear. “Let me do that,” he says.
I put my hands down to my sides and let him undress me. Seeing his hands on my clothing takes my breath away. I sneak a look down his incredible torso, past his muscled abdomen. He’s wearing cotton boxer shorts today, and I can see that he’s already hard. I glance away, scared for a moment about him being inside me.
He kisses my cheek. “Jess, I want you so bad right now. Tell me if I go too fast. I’ll try to hold back, but you smell so good. And your skin…”
He’s got my blouse and bra off, tossed on the floor beside the bed. He rolls me onto my side so he can unzip my skirt. He slides it slowly down my legs. I twist my head back and watch his face as his eyes move over my abdomen and back down. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of my underwear and slowly pulls them down.
He breathes in deeply as he rolls me onto my back. He shifts his body down toward my feet and leans over, kissing me between my thighs. My instinct is to push him away, to not let him taste that intimate area.
His tongue pushes down into that hot flesh, and the sensation makes my arms and neck go weak. He dives deeper, settling his body between my legs and pushing them apart. I resist with muscle tension in my thighs, but not for long. My neck and ears burn with a feverish heat.
He keeps going, licking me and murmuring that I taste good. My back arches. I try to relax, but I’m too excited. I glance down at his face between my legs, but squeeze my eyes shut after a second.
These feelings are so new and confusing, but incredible. He flicks one spot with his tongue, and it’s like he flipped a switch. I’m gasping and writhing on the bed, clutching the covers with my hands.
He eases off the pressure and pulls away. His lips move away from my center, and he kisses his way down to my knees. He moves up again, slowly, kissing the tops of my thighs. He keeps to the side, gliding over my hip bone and then circling my navel, flicking it once playfully with his tongue.
There’s a pause, and I look down to find him watching my face for a reaction. I give him a weak smile. My whole body is warm and relaxed, like melted caramel.
This is fast, but not too fast.
He moves up and lowers his mouth to my nipple, still looking me in the eyes. He kisses my breast and plays with my nipple using his lips and tongue. I feel something between my legs. His hand. He shifts over so he’s lying on his side along my side. At a leisurely pace, he licks my nipples while using his fingers to stroke between my folds. I’m wet and hot, my muscles trembling with tension building.
I’m on the verge of coming when he stops. I open my eyes and find him staring at my face, his face tense with concentration.
“Good so far?” he asks.
I sigh. “Yes.” I roll onto my side so we’re facing each other.
Breathing slowly, I reach up and slip my fingers down into his boxer shorts.
He’s hot and heavy in my hand. I squeeze, not sure about the pressure. Dylan’s breath catches in his throat, and his whole body tenses. He gets even harder as I explore his length with my fingers. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but he seems to enjoy it, so I keep going. After a few minutes, I get brave enough to use both hands to pull off his boxer shorts. Now we’re both completely naked, with nothing between us.
I look down at what I’m holding. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think, but it’s beautiful, like the rest of him. The skin around the head is flushed pink, and the shaft is lined with a network of veins, but mostly smooth.
“Careful,” he says. “Those soft touches with your hands… you’re doing something to me. I can’t wait much longer.”
I touch him some more, exploring the ridges.
After a moment, he pulls my hand away and circles my arm over his side, then rolls back and pulls me on top of him.
The length of him is between us, along the hollow of my hip. He tugs me up along his body and pulls my mouth to his. We kiss, with my hair cascading down around our faces. Our bodies move naturally, rocking against each other.
After a few minutes of kissing, I realize the tip is right between my legs, and I’m so wet, it could just slip in. The desire to push my body down onto his is impossible to resist. I moan and push against him. Dylan catches me by the hips and lifts me back up. I moan, and my body tries again.
He chuckles as he lifts me all the way up onto my knees. “Hang on,” he says. He reaches over to the drawer, grabs and packet, and rolls it on.
Now I’m nervous again, but kissing helps. With his mouth under mine, I lose myself again. I push myself down, gasping at the sensation. He rocks his hips, pushing himself in further. His breathing sounds ragged, like he’s making an effort to go slow. I move up and then down again, moaning. I sound surprised. Pleasantly surprised.
This time, he’s filling me, but I can handle it. There’s no sharp pain, just a pressure. The pressure becomes a dull ache if I stop moving. So I keep moving.
His whole body is rigid underneath me, like steel. My arms keep moving around, like I can’t figure out where they’re supposed to go. Some body movements feel better, but all of them are good.
Through gritted teeth, Dylan says, “How do you like being on top?”
I press my palms against this hard chest muscles and look him in the eyes. I have no words, so I answer with an eyebrow raise.
“No pain?” he asks.
I shake my head, no.
His upper lip curls up in a grin. “Good,” he growls.
Gripping me tightly with one hand across my butt, he flips us over so I’m on my back. He stays inside me.
Looking me in the eyes, he loops his arm under one of my legs and brings my knee up. I blink up at him wondering why, and then I feel him plunge deeper inside me. This is deeper than before, and I gasp in surprise. My mind tells me this will hurt, but it doesn’t.
He’s breathing heavily now, thrusting against me. He’s moving with enough force that my breasts shake with every pump. I close my eyelids as my eyes roll up. I let my legs relax, wide apart, encouraging him to go deeper. My whole body rocks with the movement. He’s hard and fills me, plunging deeper, expanding to fill me more.
The mounting tension breaks, and I start moaning as I come.
He keeps pounding, the pace speeding up. “Say my name,” he growls.
Gasping, I moan out his name. “Oh, Dylan.” I cry his name again and again as my orgasm shakes through me.
His breath chokes in his throat, and he slams into me.
One.
Two.
He takes a quick breath.
Three.
He groans and collapses on top of me.
We’re still for a second, and then he covers my mouth with his. We’re breathing as one, kissing, our faces slick with sweat.
He gasps and jerks his hips again, and in the stillness I can feel him pulsing inside me. The sensation pushes me over the edge. My eyes roll up and I’m coming again.
After a few seconds, I’m still moving underneath him, and he’s still.
I open my eyes and see him staring down at me. His face is relaxed, his cheeks flushed.
My body’s still moving, rocking gently under his.
“Jess, I just had you and I want you again.” He chuckles. “But you’ve got to give me a minute to recover, and get this taken care of.” He reaches down between us with one hand and carefully withdraws.
I’m feeling shy again and roll onto my side, covering my breasts with one arm.
He shifts to the edge of the bed and groans as he steps off.
“Are you hiding?” he asks. “I can still see you.”
I giggle and roll onto my stomach. My emotions are bubbling and all over the place. I don’t know what to say, but I’m pretty sure if I open my mouth, it’s going to be something dorky. I don’t want to ruin this incredible moment.
“Take a minute, then join me in the shower,” he says. “We need to get cleaned up before dinner.”
“Oh! Dinner!”
He laughs and mimics me, repeating what I’ve said in a high voice. “Oh! Dinner!”
With my face against the sheets, I wave a hand at him blindly. “Go, get in the shower. I’ll come join you in a minute.”
“Maybe I should take your phone with me. That will speed things up. You won’t be able to text your girlfriends and tell them everything.”
I roll to my side and pretend to be shocked and offended. “I would never!”
He shrugs and walks away down the staircase, a towel slung around his hips.
I take a moment to close my eyes and hold my hands over my face while I stop blushing.
I need to be very careful about the words that come out of my mouth tonight. I know that lust isn’t love, and you can’t love someone you barely know, but I still feel something.
Something powerful.
And I’m terrified I’m going to open my mouth and ruin the magic between us.
I’m still holding my hands over my face a minute later, when my phone starts ringing.
I groan and curse my roommate under my breath. The idea that Amanda is phoning me again, right after sex with Dylan, gives me a deja vu feeling. She did this last time, trying to get me to come home. Not this time, Amanda.
I smile to myself as I dig into the pile of my clothes for my phone. At least she didn’t phone during sex.
The screen shows the number as blocked.
My greeting is tinged with annoyance. “Now what?”
“Jessica Rivera?” The voice on the line is male.
“I don’t have time for surveys, thank you.” I end the call.
My phone rings again immediately.
The fact that I’m currently naked makes me feel doubly annoyed at this telemarketer.
I answer the call anyway, with a terse hello.
The male voice comes through again, “Don’t hang up. It’s me, Nick. From Morris Music.”
“Shit! Nick. That reminds me. I totally forgot to disconnect—“ I lower my voice to a whisper “—the you-know-whats. Are you watching me on your cameras right now, you freak?”
“I’m not calling about that.” His voice is as expressionless as his calm face usually is.
“What do you need, Nick? I’m getting ready to go for dinner with Dylan.” My voice rises as I smile about what just happened.
“You can’t go falling in love with Dylan. That’s not the plan. You have to break up with him. Hello? Are you still there?”
I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. Nick is being so ridiculous about Dylan, and acting like my life is in danger.
Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, I say, “I don’t understand. Tell me, straight up. Nick, are you gay or not?”
“Yes, I’m gay. Trust me, I’m not saying this because I’m in love with you.”
“Phew!” I say, laughing.
“But Jess, I do like you. I care about you… and your safety.”
I keep my voice low, in case Dylan can hear me. “Listen. I’m going to be in the basement with you all day tomorrow, and you can tell me all about whatever you think is happening. But you’re not going to ruin my night.”
“Jess, make an excuse to get out of there and call me when you’re out. This is important. Trust me.”
“Nick, I don’t trust you. Give me one good reason why I should leave when I’m having a perfectly good time.”
“I know more than you think I do. You want a good reason? I’ll give you one.”
I listen for Nick’s reason, but the phone is silent. What’s this good reason he has? I hold the phone away from my ear to see if the call’s gone dead. The screen’s still lit up.
“Hello?” I say.
An ear-splitting alarm goes off in the loft.
The sound is coming from speakers on the ceiling, so loud I can hardly think.
I’ve got to get moving, but my body is frozen.
The alarm sounds like someone screaming.
Revenge - Part 4
Chapter 1
The ear-splitting fire alarm makes me want to scream. I’m standing at the foot of Dylan's bed, naked, and the sound is so loud that I’m paralyzed.
Dylan comes running up from the lower part of the loft to check on me. His bare chest is heaving and he looks worried about me. His hair isn’t wet, so the alarm must have started before he could get in the shower.
I start moving and signal with my hands that I’m fine. We both pull on our clothes. Barely dressed, we bolt down the spiral staircase.
My ears feel like they’re bleeding.
I’m going to kill my coworker Nick for setting this thing off. I was just on the phone with him, and he was trying to get me out of here. There’s no way this alarm is a coincidence. Nick owns this loft, and he seems to have all sorts of remote access to it.
We tumble out the front door. Dylan leans back against the blue door as it closes. My ears are ringing. The alarm is still loud, but dampened by the brick walls of the former firehall.
“Do you smell smoke?” he asks.
I inhale the evening air. It’s twilight. The air smells of typical LA air.
“Nope. False alarm?” I glance down at the square lump in my blouse pocket, where I’ve tucked my phone.
Guiltily, I consider telling him everything I know.
How would it sound to Dylan if I told him my coworker owns this loft he’s renting? And that Nick set off the fire alarm, just to mess up our evening? It would sound cray cray.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dylan asks softly.
I look up at his gorgeous brown eyes, fringed in thick dark eyelashes. He’s looking down at me with concern, mixed with anger. He had that same look Sunday night, after I got attacked in the old house. Like he’d destroy anything or anyone who tried to hurt me.
“Totally fine,” I say cheerfully.
His hands graze my chest. He’s unbuttoning my blouse.
“Again?” I say, laughing shyly. “Outside, between two buildings?”
“I’m game if you are.” His lips curl up in a sexy grin.
I look down to see he’s actually fixing my blouse, not undressing me. In my rush to run out, I did up all the buttons wrong.
He didn’t do much better, with his shirt on inside-out.
“Nice styling, Mr. Dylan Wolf.” I reach up and tug the white tag at his collar.
He pulls away from me to strip off the shirt. I admire his lean muscles as he reaches up. I don’t know if my eyes are playing tricks on me, but his stomach muscles seem to stand out more right after we’ve had sex.
He gets his shirt back on and pulls out his phone.
“Just calling
the rental agency,” he says. “I tried the override code they gave me, but it didn’t work.”
He holds the phone to his ear and turns away from me. After a pause, he answers some questions with short answers. He sounds annoyed. That bad temper of his is flaring up, and I feel sorry for anyone caught up in it.
Dylan turns back to me, tilting the mouthpiece away.
“Jess, we’re going to miss that dinner reservation. Do you mind taking a rain check? We can go tomorrow night. I’ll make it earlier and pick you up from work.”
“Sure. But I don’t mind hanging out here…”
He holds a finger up toward me, putting me on pause. He responds to the person on the phone with sarcasm, “Sure. I love the sound of the alarm. I’ll just stay here all night and wait for the service tech. No, take your time. Really.”
I point to the door behind him. “Just need to get my bag.”
He growls into the phone, “Yes, the alarm is still ringing. Here, listen.” He goes back inside, then comes out with my bag.
He keeps yelling into the phone and not paying attention to what he’s doing. He dumps my bag on the ground.
A white envelope falls out onto the gravel. The envelope is plain, except for the Morris Music logo in the corner. Two thousand dollars in cash spills out.
I suck in air so fast I nearly choke.
Dylan raises one dark eyebrow and gives me a quizzical look. I crouch down and stuff the money back quickly and without explanation.
He tilts his head to the side, like I’m the cutest thing, spilling money all over the place. Then he goes back to yelling into the phone.
I turn and start to walk away. He grabs my arm and pulls me back, shoving me against the wall. He kisses me angrily. His mouth is hot, and heavy against my lips.
He pulls away, leaving me breathless.
He nods for me to leave now. “So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Five-thirty.”
“Perfect.”
Walking away, I can feel Dylan’s eyes on me. I try to keep my walk ladylike, and not like the stride of a tomboy from a farm. My body is still numb from that kiss.
I hate to leave, but I’m excited about tomorrow.
We’ll have dinner tomorrow.