by Madi Le
Once he had her at ease, then he could start to work on explaining that he really wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And, the good thing was, he'd figure out just how he was going to do it. Every last step.
The problems started when he stopped the car outside of Bardot's house, and saw the front door swing open as soon as he pulled up in front of the house. Fable stepped out. This was just a repeat of what it been going on for the past month.
Every time he stopped by, Major or Fable would come out, and they tell him that Bardot didn't really want to see him. He ducked down in the car, trying to hide, hoping that Fable was just coming out by coincidence. Once she got into her car, and drove off, Dane could go in without having anyone try to stop him. It wasn't that he was afraid, but things were so much easier if he didn't have to deal with it.
If he had hoped that Fable wouldn't notice, though, he was out of luck. A knock at his passenger-side door told Dane that Fable had arrived, had noticed him, and apparently wanted to talk.
Dane rolled the window down. "Is there a problem?"
He didn't want to ask if he could speak to Bardot directly. If he didn't bring it up, and Fable didn’t bring it up, then he could claim that she hadn’t tried to stop him. All he had to do was distract her long enough.
"What are you doing here?"
"I just…" Dean tried to think of an excuse. The second of hesitation was all it took for his intentions to show on his face.
"Are you here to talk to Bardot?" Dane looked out the window, past Fable, his eyes locked on the front door the house.
"Don't try to stop me," he said, finally.
"I'm not going to stop you," Fable told him. "On the contrary, I'm gonna give you a piece of free advice. If you want to talk to her, you need to go now."
"Is that some kind of threat?" Dane tried to play it off like a joke, but neither one of them laughed.
"No," Fable said "just a statement of fact. Your window of opportunity isn't going to last much longer."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Bardot finally got her letter," Fable said. "She's going to Seattle."
"When’s she leaving?"
"Any minute," Fable said. "That's what I'm trying to tell you."
"Shoot," Dane growled. "I really need to talk to her.”
His stomach churned, and every single plan that he had flew right out the window. He had to go quickly. There was no time to hesitate now, not when he was so close. Not when he finally knew what he needed to tell her. Not when it was the choice to either tell her bluntly or lose her. He gritted his teeth, and started to run. He only hoped that he wasn't too late.
Chapter Nine ♥
*
The music was sufficiently loud that Bardot didn't hear anything until it was already too late. By the time she heard the knock at the door, she had missed her opportunity to turn the radio off and hide. But, that didn't stop her from trying.
She flicked the radio off, ran into her room, and pretended she hadn’t heard anything. She kept pretending, and the knocking continued. She even kept pretending until she heard the voice outside calling in. Her taxi wasn't supposed to be there for an hour.
"Bardot, I need to talk to you!"
Bardot gritted his teeth Bardot gritted her teeth, to keep herself from calling back out. She'd been avoiding him for weeks, and he still hadn't gotten the message? She wasn't about to piss off her brother, and she figured out a way to get up out of this town without his help. Now all she had to do was get out of his this town without his knowing.
"I talked to Fable!"
Bardot's hand slapped into her forehead. The news forced her to rethink the entire situation. If he’d already talked to Fable, what did he already know? Did he know she was leaving? Did he know about the baby?
Bardot took a deep breath, and stepped outside. She undid the bolt on the door, and opened up.
"What?"
"I came to see you," Dane said.
It was unusual for Dane to be out of breath, Bardot thought. She'd never seen him out of breath, and he'd always been one of the fitter people in school. He likes sports, worked out all the time, and as far she knew, was as fit as a fiddle. He was a trainer, for Pete’s sake! Which meant, he must either be stressed out, or he’d practically sprinted the fifty yards between his car and her door, and hadn’t to manage to recover yet. Either one seemed almost cute for him.
"What you need to talk about?"
"I told you," Dane said, "I've been trying to talk to you for weeks. And I told you it's important."
"Well, I'm here now," Bardot said.
"I know," Dane said. He looked nervous. Even as his breath started this without, and he started to get control of himself, he still looked nervous. That was cute, too. There were sites to Dane, Bardot is beginning to realize, that she hadn't even realized. It was almost as if he was human. The butterflies in her stomach refuse to let up.
"I'm sorry," Dane started. Then he stopped. There was a long pause. He stood there with his mouth open, like he was about to say something, but nothing came out for 10 seconds. 20 seconds. "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this. Can I come inside?"
"Dane… I'm leaving. I'm going to Seattle."
They looked at her, as helpless as she'd ever seen him. "I know."
"All right, then," Bardot said. She took a step back and gestured towards the living room. "Come on inside. We'll talk."
Dane been inside the house 1000 times, but this was the first time she'd ever seen him look nervous doing it. He came inside like he was entering the hall of the King.
"Listen… I'm sorry if I didn't respect your feelings," Dane said. "And if you don't want talk to me, I get it. But just let me finish what I have to say, and I will… I'll get out of your hair. I'll let you go to Seattle and, if you never want to see me again, you don't have to. Okay?"
"I'm listening."
Dane sucked in a breath through his teeth. He seemed to be thinking hard about what he was going to say next. Whatever it was, it ate at him. Apparently, it had been eating at him for some time now. Otherwise, why was he there?
"When we… Made love, I wasn't… I didn't know how you felt. I guess somehow I just hadn't seen it. And now, I know that I probably should've seen something. The signs seem to have all been there. But I just didn't see them. Well, now I see them. Now that it's a too late to do this properly. But I just what you to know that I never intended to hurt you."
"If that's all you had to say, you have you shouldn’t have bothered. I didn't think you were trying to hurt me. I knew who you were with me started. You’re not going to suddenly surprise me Dane."
"That's just it," Dane said. "I know that. You're a smart girl. You know who I am, and I know who you are. If it was just a question of whether or not I thought you could handle a little one night fun, then I wouldn't say anything. But the thing is, that's not all I have to say. That's just the start of it. Bardot… I think I love you."
The silence in the room was palpable. You can also cut the tension with a knife. Dane didn't seem to think it was as funny as Bardot did. She didn't mean to laugh, not at first. It just happened that way. But once she started, she certainly couldn't have stopped. It was just so funny. Was some kind of prank? He looked so serious. She knew Dean. Just like she said she knew him, she knew him. And she knew that Dane didn't settle down, and he didn't fall in love.
"Are you joking?" The words barely came out through her laughter. "Do I look like some kind of idiot to you?"
Dane looked at her sullenly, waiting for laughter to die down. That long wait was what convinced her that maybe he wasn't completely joking; then, Bardot only laughed harder.
She started to feel bad when she finally realized that she couldn't explain the joke. Dane sat on the couch with his head in his hands, looking as miserable as she felt. As miserable as she'd ever been over him. She felt bad, but at the same time, she almost wanted to leave him like that for a little while. It would give him just a little t
aste.
The cute irony of it all added up in her head the funniest joke she never heard. The joke she wasn't sure she wanted to repeat again, but eventually, she would have to explain it. That, or she just give up on having any relationship with him at all. And, if she did, then it would just mean that she had to start this whole dance over again.
"I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you," Bardot said.
"No, of course not," came the bitter reply.
"It's just," Bardot paused, trying to get herself under control, but it was difficult and she wasn't used to having to stop herself from that sort of uproarious laughter.
"You're so anxious about it. You do you know how long it was that I was waiting for you to say something like this? And now… Now, you're just here worried about whether or not I'm going to accept you or something? Oh, how the tables have turned!"
Bardot kept laughing, even as she saw his face get more and more red. She tried to stop. Really, she did, but it was just so funny. Everything was coming together, and she just wasn't sure what she was going to do with that at this point. The relief that was flooding her was overwhelming her. And all she could do was laugh.
"If you think it's so funny —"
Bardot cut his response off with a kiss. Her lips pressed against his, hard enough to bruise between their teeth. It hurt, but it felt good. It felt as good as anything they've done that first night, when the pair of them were both a little bit too drunk to really think anything through.
Everything else, for a long moment, was forgotten as their mouths dueled. He tasted good, like a man was supposed to taste. He hadn't shaved recently enough, so the stubble scratched at her cheeks while they kissed, it's the scratches reminding her she was kissing. That part, at least, felt good. In the other parts… Well, good didn't quite describe.
His arms wrapped around her chest, pulled her in tight, molding her body against his. Bardot pulled back for air, took a breath, closed her eyes, and bolstered by Dane’s own confession, she said the words that she been dreading for the past month.
"Dane… I'm pregnant."
Chapter Ten ♥
*
Dean's heart skipped a beat. The second seemed to stretch on for hours while he tried to figure out what he was going to say next. Finally, keep pressed his lips together, found his words, and spoke. "You mean I’m going to be a father?"
Bardot's expression fell. "If that changes anything, then… I understand."
The feeling in Dane stomach, the nervousness that hadn't left him since he'd been kicked out of Bardot's house a month earlier, swelled up in his stomach, renewed in a way that it hadn't it felt like he had never been truly nervous before his entire life. Overwhelmed, overcome, he grabbed Bardot around the waist lifted her up and spun her in a circle "I'm going to be a father!"
his lips pressed against hers without a thought. He almost felt like laughing, too, now. He been so afraid of what would happen, he hadn't even stopped to think what his feelings about it would be. He expected, he thought, to be afraid. To be stressed. But Dane wasn't feeling afraid, he wasn't feeling stressed, and he wasn't feeling unsure. The only thing that he felt was utter, impossible joy. Bardot kissed him back, though her eyes appeared to be wet.
"I was so scared," she said. "I was afraid of what you would think of me… Of the baby."
"You're keeping it, right?"
"I never even considered anything else," Bardot answered.
A serious expression overtook Bardot's face. She seemed to be thinking about something quite a lot long time. Dane waited. What she'd already told himself seem to be such big news, he could hardly imagine what it would be thick could cause her such consternation now. She sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly.
"There's something else, Dane."
"Something else?"
"I'm sorry to say this, Dane… This doesn't change anything. I'm still leaving for Seattle."
Dane watched her face, trying to judge what she expected him to get from that. Was he supposed understand that she meant that he was still out of her life? Was it some kind of threat? Was it a test?
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," Bardot said "I spent a lot of time thinking about it, these past few weeks, and I'm not giving him my dream job just because of a man. Or a baby for that matter."
"You'll still be coming back though, right?"
Bardot's eyes met his, and Dane already knew the answer. He tried to rationalize it to himself, though. Tried to tell himself that it was all going be fine. "Right?"
"Dane, I want you to know how hard the last month has been for me. Everything's been so stressful and… I just want to be gone. That's all I’ve wanted for a long time now. I’ve got other things I want, too. But leaving has been on the agenda since the beginning."
"That's a no then?"
I'm "I'm afraid it is."
"And your mind’s made up?"
"I'm afraid it is."
Dane thought long and hard about his response before he opened his mouth. When he finally did, he felt the courage to say it failing him before he even tried. He did his best to keep control of himself, and to keep his composure.
"Can I have a few days?"
"The cab's going to be here in 10 minutes," Bardot said, looking down at her watch.
"You can cancel," Dane said. "If you've already paid, I can pay you back. At least give me an hour to talk. I’ve got a lot of stuff right now on my plate, and I can’t just pack up and leave everything."
Bardot's expression twisted into a phase that marked the confusion that he knew that he felt himself. It was hard to know whether or not he was certain about anything in his life. But he knew one thing. He wanted Bardot, now, and forever.
Whatever it took to have her, he would do it. That didn't mean that it was easy to decide to leave his friends, his family, his old life behind. Easy or not, though, it was what he was going to do. Nothing could change that.
"I can’t ask you to do that," Bardot said, softly.
"You didn't ask me," Dane said. "I decided. Unless you're telling me I can't come?"
Her lips pressed against his again, surprising him with their ferocity.
"Of course you can come, you big idiot."
Chapter Eleven ♥
*
Bardot's body felt hot. She could wait as she had to, if she was leaving. There was at least one thing, though, that she couldn't wait for. Not one more minute, if she could help it. She wrapped her legs around Dane's hips, and he seemed to pretty much get the message.
"God, I want you," he growled, his lips tracing a line down her jaw.
"Then take me," Bardot answered. She felt like she was going crazy, her head starting to pressurize like it was filling with steam. The only thing filling with steam, though, was going to be the living room.
His hands tore at her clothes. They came off easily enough. Standing there naked, Bardot felt terribly exposed–her stomach twisted and jumped, the butterflies inside making her feel like she was going to go crazy long before the main event. Had it even been this bad the first time, with all the anticipation she'd built up around it?
Dane pushed her up against the wall, driving the breath out of her. His kisses along her throat made that breath catch in her throat, leaving her gasping for air. Dane seemed to be enjoying how overwhelmed she was getting.
Bardot heard the sound of his zipper working, felt something hard pressed against her. Unlacing her legs from around his waist, she dropped to her knees, silently acquiescing to his demands.
She took his shaft into her mouth gingerly, unsure of what she was doing. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time that she'd done it sober, and that seemed to make a startling amount of difference. She did what felt natural, and from the ways that his fingertips dug softly into her head, she suspected that she was doing it about right.
When Dane pulled her away from him, it was almost a surprise. She'd been so intent on it, never giving a thought to anything but his pl
easure, that it had seemed to pass by in an instant, and then it was done.
"Bend over," he said. There was a feral note to his voice that brooked no discussion. Bardot obeyed without a thought, a shiver shooting down her spine and leaving a tingling in her quim as she presented herself.
“Good,” he growled. She expected him to take her; her body quivered in anticipation, hope for more of what she’d experienced when he had taken her for the first time. She wanted it, needed it. And yet he made her wait.
What felt like minutes passed, and still he didn’t take her. Bardot dared a look back at him. His hand pressed her face forward in an instant. Then she got what she wanted, in a way. She felt something lifting up her skirt, felt it shoving aside her panties.
Something probed her folds, but what spread them apart wasn’t his manhood. His fingers teased her clit, already painfully erect, to dizzying sensitivity, until his tongue joined them. Her body tensed in surprise, and he took advantage of her vulnerability.
His tongue moved against her, his mouth exploring places that had only seen this kind of activity once before. That time, she’d been drunk. This time, though, she was sober enough to savor every sensation, and sober enough to be unsure whether she wanted him to stop right now, and spare what little dignity that she had left, or if she wanted him to never stop again, and let her feel this for the rest of her life.
When her fingers dug into his hair, pulled him in against her harder, though, her body made the decision for her. Dane didn’t seem to mind one bit, giving her every bit of pleasure that her body could have wanted.
When she regained her senses, her face was pressed into the couch cushions, her breath coming in gulps and gasps.
“Turn over,” Dane said. He pulled gently on her waist, and she let him turn her onto her back. “You look so good.”
“Fuck me.”
He gave Bardot a feral smile and leaned down over her, pressing a kiss against her neck that she hoped in vain might not leave a mark. Then he pulled on her knees until her slick entrance was invaded by something large, hard, and hot. He pushed gently against her hips, moving slow enough to drive Bardot mad, but even still it felt like she was going to tear in half. Then he started to move, and she decided that she was wrong before—this was what would really tear her in half.