Wicked Thing

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Wicked Thing Page 11

by Angeline Kace


  “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  I feel slightly better. Dallas has a dangerous edge about him, but at the same time, he’s the kind of guy I know will take care of me. The kind of guy I can feel safe with.

  He takes us slowly through the parking lot and stops before driving us out onto the road. “Now just lean how and when I lean.”

  His instructions make me more nervous. I actually have to do something other than hold on? Maybe this was a bad idea.

  He takes a wide turn onto the road and I glue my body to his, following his angle exactly and squeal again as he shifts and goes faster. Not even fast like he’s trying to scare me, but just fast enough to reach the speed limit. It’s exhilarating! “Ahh!” More. “Faster!”

  His body shakes within my grip as he chuckles and then the bike growls louder as he cranks up the speed.

  “Oh my God!” I wrap my fingers around his T-shirt and tilt my head enough to look out over him at the road. Holy shit! The lane dividers are going by so fast, it looks like a constant line.

  By our fourth turn, I release his shirt¸ which has to be wrinkled now, and hold on tight enough to not get thrown off if he steps into it, but not so tight that I might be cutting off his air supply. “Where are we going?”

  He rubs my hand with one of his for a second and readjusts it lower on his stomach, just above his belt line. Even leaning he doesn’t have any fat over his abs. I want to stroke them.

  “It’s a surprise. You’ll see when we get there.”

  We get out of the metropolitan area, and Dallas takes us onto a rural Texas highway. He opens up the bike and cruises faster. My hair flips and slaps against my shoulders in the wind. I relax my arms some more and hold on mostly with my thighs, enjoying the ride. This is something I never thought I’d do, let alone enjoy. Sure, it was scary at first, but I’m safe with Dallas.

  We pass a sign reading that we’re ten miles outside of the reservoir. “Is that where we’re going?”

  “Where’s that?” he asks like he didn’t see the sign. Or like he’s avoiding the question.

  “The reservoir.”

  “Why, did you bring a swimsuit?”

  “No. Did you?”

  “I did not.”

  I’m not sure if that’s an answer. It’s too hard to carry on a conversation above the roar of the wind and the deep snarl of the bike’s engine, so I let it go.

  He turns off the highway not too long after and definitely follows the signs to the reservoir, turning left toward “swimming” instead of right for “boat docking.”

  What could he possibly have planned for us to do here if we didn’t bring swimsuits?

  He pulls into an empty parking area, backs his bike into a spot, then turns it off.

  I use him for stability as I slide off, my legs like putty after the vibration of the bike for so long. I undo the helmet’s strap and hand it to him, running my fingers through my hair to organize the mess. “Now what?”

  He rests the helmet on his handlebar. “Follow me.”

  I do. We walk side by side down a pebbled path toward the water. “Swimming is not going to happen. You know that, right?”

  “Yep,” he says, and I look at him with suspicion. Then what else is he planning?

  We reach the bottom of the trail where Dallas takes off his shoes. I do the same and we step onto a sandy beach with slight waves washing over the edge. “This is beautiful.” The sun is still up, but it’s starting to set behind the other end of the reservoir. The violets, crimsons, pinks, and yellows reflect onto the water, making the surface a sparkling canvas of magnificence. “Have you been here before?”

  He walks toward the edge where the water rolls onto the beach. “Yeah, I come here sometimes for peace and quiet.”

  All I hear is the slight splash as water swells, covers the beach and then recedes back into its belly. “It is very peaceful.”

  He looks over at me with a devious grin. “You may want to take off your shirt.”

  “What! Why?” My face scrunches in worry and I step away from him.

  “This is your last chance before I grab you and walk into the water.”

  I step back away faster. “You wouldn’t. I just told you no swimming and you said okay!”

  He matches my tempo, so I turn around and run.

  He catches me much quicker than I was hoping and wraps a relentless arm around my waist.

  “No, Dallas! Don’t.” I drag my feet, but he picks me up and walks toward the water. I kick my legs, so he runs faster. Water splashes up my legs. “Dallas!” I’m clutching at his shirt, but it does little to deter him. He slows down slightly as the water grows deeper, but he doesn’t stop.

  The first lick of water along my backside has me screeching into his ear.

  He jumps forward, landing on top of me and dunking us both.

  When I come up, his face is full of mirth and he’s brushing his honey-colored hair back from his dripping face.

  I do the same to get the strands and water out of my eyes. And then I jump at him. “I can’t believe you did that!” I bite down on his shoulder.

  He groans and tries to pull me off.

  I didn’t bite down as hard as I could, but definitely enough to leave a mark.

  “I did warn you,” he says, like I’m being completely unreasonable. “I told you to take your shirt off.”

  “Oh, and that was so much of a warning.”

  “Well, we’re in now. What ya gonna do about it?”

  I grin. Maybe this could be advantageous after all. “Have you seen Dirty Dancing?”

  Dallas gives me a blank stare.

  “Please tell me you’ve seen it! With Patrick Swayze?”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.” He shrugs. “What about it?”

  “Well, there’s a scene where they’re in the water. Baby jumps and Johnny lifts her out of the water.”

  Dallas shakes his head. His wet strands fling water before they stick to the side of his face. He pushes his hair back again. “My mom used to watch that all the time. That and Pretty Women.”

  “Pretty Woman.”

  “Isn’t that what I said?”

  I laugh. “No, but it doesn’t matter. We’re talking about Johnny and Baby.”

  He smirks. “Are you saying you want to try it?”

  “Well, yeah! I’m pretty sure it’s the dream of every girl from my generation, and the one before that and the one before that since the movie came out, to have a guy lift them like Johnny does with Baby.”

  “Oh, well, then I guess we have to try it.” His smile is so wide, he almost looks boyish. In a manly way I’d like to ride, that is. Rivulets of water dribble down his forehead. He’s gorgeous.

  “Okay, back up a little so it’s not as deep.” I place my hand on his chest and walk him back until I think we’re at a good depth. “All right. So when I jump, you’ll try to lift me over your head and hold me there, okay?”

  His brows dip a little as if he’s uncertain. “Have you ever done this before?”

  “No, but I’ve watched it a thousand times.”

  He must trust that because he puts his hands out, ready to catch me.

  I jump. He grabs me underneath my armpits and lifts above his head, my feet dangling at his belly button.

  I laugh so hard, I go limp in his arms and he sets me down before we fall.

  “What? What is it supposed to look like?”

  I don’t want him to feel bad, but I can’t help it. “Not that.”

  He smiles. A gorgeous man who’s got a sense of humor. Damn.

  I laugh again. He really must not have seen this part. “You lift me, and I go stiff, and it’s like I’m flying.”

  “Oh, so I have to grab you lower, then?”

  “Yeah, probably by my hips.”

  “Well, you didn’t say that before you jumped, so that was your ugly mistake. Not mine.”

  I laugh harder and position myself in front of him, placing his
hands on my hips. “You ready?”

  He bends his knees slightly. “Yeah, count down to three before you jump this time.”

  “Okay. One. Two. Three!” I jump and his hands tighten on my hips. His arms go straight above his head, but he puts so much force behind it, I go over his head and he falls backward into the water, me diving head first over him.

  We both come up soaked and laughing. I reposition. We have to take a second to quit laughing and become serious again.

  “That was better, but think of stopping right at the top this time.”

  “Top is goal. Got it.”

  “Okay. One. Two. Three.” I jump again and Dallas positions me where I need to be, but his hand slides off my hip because of my soaking shirt and I fall out of his grip to his right, splashing into the water.

  I come up again, laughing harder. This is so much fun. I’m pretty sure Ava is going to shit her pants. This so surpasses the fountain frolic.

  “You need to take your shirt off,” Dallas says, his face completely blank.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “It’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

  My face flushes. True, and I am wearing a bra, so it would be the same as a swimsuit. “Okay, but it’s purely for Johnny-and-Baby-style water lifting.” I walk toward shore, unbuttoning my shirt. “And you better not try to cop a feel, either.”

  His lips quiver as he tries to hold back his grin. “I make no promises. We are in the water, and you are slippery.”

  I stride back over to him. “Oh, whatever. You grab my boob, and my knee is meeting with your ball sack.” I mimic the motion of my knee to his groin.

  He scrunches his face. “Ooof. You are straight-up evil.”

  “Oh, and you’re not? You carried me in here like a barbarian.”

  He laughs. “Well, we’re having fun, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, so let’s try this again.” I angle in front of him so I’ll go up straight and count down. I jump and he lifts me to where he did last time, but now I’m not sliding in his grip. I put my arms out and point my toes. “We’re doing it! Oh my God! This is happeniiiiiiiiing!” We fall backward again into the water.

  Water goes up my nose because I’m laughing as I go in. I come up coughing. We both break out in more laughter. “What happened this time?”

  “You were heavy,” he teases.

  I chuckle and shake my head. “Last time. You ready?”

  He pulls his hair back again—the way his arm muscles flex and the way the water runs down the sides of his neck, I’m swallowing hard, pushing down my flaring desire.

  He puts his arms out, ready for me.

  I get in front and count down. I jump and he puts me in the air, my arms spread, my toes pointed. It’s just as amazing as it was the last time, but we’re not falling. He holds me there for a minute, and I look out across the water as the sun sets. It’s dropped a bit, so the purples are now overwhelming all the other colors as it darkens.

  He lowers me down slowly in front of him, our eyes locked. His eyes search my face, almost like he wants to say something.

  “That was amazing,” I say instead, and turn him around to look out at the horizon. “Isn’t it stunning?”

  He looks over at me. “It is.”

  Heat courses through my arms. I’m pretty sure he’s talking about me.

  He looks over the water and wraps his arm around my shoulder. We watch the sun ripple across the shimmering surface for a minute. “Let’s dry off before the sun disappears completely.”

  I follow him toward the shore. He takes off his shirt and pants and sits down in the sand in his boxers, facing the water.

  I walk over and sit beside him. “What made you decide to bring me here?”

  “One, because it’s hot, and the excruciating heat was telling me we needed to take our clothes off.” He turns to me as his smile fades. His eyes are raw with deep emotion. “And I have something to tell you.”

  My mouth parches. I swear to God if he tells me he’s falling in love with me, I might pass out. “Do I want to hear it?”

  “I don’t know. I won’t know until I tell you.”

  I’m so frightened by the words he hasn’t spoken that I lean over and seal my lips to his. We hold our lips there, pressed together but not moving for a second, as if Dallas is so stunned he doesn’t realize what’s happening before he moves his mouth against mine. I’ve never kissed him first. I think I’ve stunned him enough to hopefully make him forget the words forming on his lips.

  He pulls back and spears me with his eyes. “I think I’m falling—”

  “Don’t speak,” I say and kiss him with renewed fervor. I don’t let him say it. He can’t. It will change things.

  He cups his hand behind my head and threads his fingers in my hair as he eases me down onto the beach. I let him because I’m not certain he’s forgotten yet, and I spread my legs to make room for his hips. He kisses me thoroughly, the bulge in his pants growing harder against my pubic bone.

  He positions himself lower so he’s in the perfect spot and then he rubs it down me.

  I arch my back and push my hips into him.

  He moves up and then rubs it down again, slow and deliberate. Oh my God. This man even dry humps with skill.

  I reach my hands up his bare back as he continues the slow glide of his manhood against my clit. My breathing increases alongside his.

  He reaches underneath me and unsnaps my bra, gliding the straps off my shoulders. I take it off the rest of the way.

  He slides his hand down my chest, along my waist as he lowers himself again, and over my thigh, bringing it back up on the inside.

  I drop my knee closer to the ground. That small caress turns me on so much, I want to rip the rest of my clothes off, but Dallas is setting the pace and he keeps it slow.

  He glides his fingers under the opening of my shorts and moves my panties to the side, skimming his fingers over my curls and the moisture flooding my opening before slipping his finger inside me.

  I moan into his mouth.

  He catches it with his tongue before swallowing it with a closed-mouth kiss. He licks the underside of my lip, and I arch back, pushing his finger farther into me and meeting my mouth with his, continuing his rub down of my mouth as well.

  I reach down and graze my hand underneath his boxers, reaching toward his girth with my greedy hands. When it rests in my palm, he shudders and sighs into my mouth. I work my other hand at pulling down his boxers. I give them a tug toward his feet and he moves back and pulls them off, using only his free hand and the heels of his feet. Not once did he pull out of me and I want to thank him, Jesus, Buddha, and the Dalai Lama.

  He glides in and out of me with his finger as his thumb rubs small circles along my throbbing bundle of nerves. My breathing quickens. My moans beg him to take off my shorts and fill me, while at the same time demanding he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing now.

  I’m right on the edge when Dallas pulls away from me, pulls off my shorts, and reaches over to his pants, pulling out a condom. He slides it on in record time and positions himself back on top of me. He angles his erection over my opening and pushes it in.

  The pressure is so delicious I cry out and rake my nails down his back. He thrusts inside me, going deeper and deeper as my walls swallow him. The crescendo he was building before is building again, so quickly I can’t hold back the scream as it rips through my throat as forcefully as the climax does through my body. “Dallas! Oh, God!”

  My inner walls clutch him in deep pulls until it abates. I push against his shoulder, and with my hip, telling him I want him to roll onto his back. He holds me so we don’t separate as I straddle his hips, sinking him deeper into me, almost to the point of pain. He gives me a second to acclimate to his girth and then I rock back and forth on top of him.

  He holds my hip with one hand and reaches out, cupping my breast with the other.

  I trace the tattoo along his col
larbone. “What does this mean?” I ask between heavy sighs.

  His eyes are hooded when he answers me. “That which nourishes me extinguishes me.”

  The truth in his words wraps around my skin like a warm bath, building the heat into the core of my stomach. I’m safe with Dallas, but being with him like this, close enough to hear one another’s heartbeats, intimate in a way that is so far beyond fucking, it’s in a different time zone. I’m scared. Scared of what I could feel for him. Terrified of what I might already be feeling for him.

  He’s the best sex I’ve ever had, without a doubt, but the more we have the more certain I become that I never want him to have this with anyone else again. And that scares me the most.

  Dallas grabs my hips with both hands and drives into me faster. He grits his teeth and if possible, I’m turned on even more. He’s close.

  We keep the constant pace until he pushes so hard into me, I can feel the pulsing of his manhood as he ejaculates. I flex my walls around him tighter because that has got to be the damn hottest sensation I have ever felt in my life.

  When he’s done, I drop my chest on top of him and kiss his mouth. We’re both breathing like we ran the Ironman, but that doesn’t stop our dance. His tongue thanks me, basks in the heat of my mouth as he rests inside me after sex so amazing, I wonder if he thinks the same thing. About not wanting me to do that with anyone else. I won’t ask him. I can’t. These thoughts are far too dangerous, and I shouldn’t be having them.

  “We should be getting back,” I say sitting up and rubbing my hand down his slick chest.

  He cups my face and pulls me down for one more kiss. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  I get off him and grab my shorts, dressing as he pulls free the condom and puts his pants on. We walk hand in hand back toward the pebbled path, but he leans away from me as he tosses the condom and its wrapper into the trashcan.

  I smile at him. Sure, we just had sex on the beach, but no one else needs to know that.

  He takes the helmet off his bike and hands it to me before he climbs on. I get on much the same as I did when he picked me up. The engine roars to life. He puts it in gear and rolls us away from the water where we made one of my dreams come true, and away from the spot in the sand where I’m pretty sure I just fell in love with Dallas Brown.

 

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