Gasping. Begging. Pleading. My vibrato quickly turns to putty in his skilled hands. Gripping fistfuls of his shirt I ride as if my life depends on it. And then with some sort of witchery, he pushes my dress aside and latches on to my right breast. It stings just right urging me closer to the edge of the cliff.
“Ride it, baby. Give in to it.” His mouth brushes against my ear casting a spell over my body as he strokes me. Deeper, and deeper. I’m on the brink of free falling and I tell him so.
“Baby that will be the sweetest gift.” He bites my nipple and everything goes white as heat courses through my body. No stars. No moon. Just Dylan. And I surrender, screaming his name right before his mouth captures my hoarse cry.
What was that? And can we do it again?
4
Dylan lays with his back against the couch and pulls me to his chest. His strong arm around my waist and I feel the evidence of his arousal. I glance over my shoulder. His eyes are still denim blue. I never noticed how they change until tonight.
I wiggle my bottom, he nips the sensitive space at the base of my neck. I want to ask why he stopped. Should I? I turn in a little circle until we are chest to chest. I can only imagine how I appear with my dress pushed up and the halves of the top open exposing my breast. But at this moment I don’t care.
“Why’d you stop?” His olive skin looks sun-kissed a slight contrast with my own honey complexion.
“Yuki, I want nothing more than to make you completely mine. But not until you’re ready.” He runs a hand through my hair lightly scratching my scalp.
“Don’t complicate this.” He’s a man with too many options and I’m a woman too grown to believe he’ll settle for one woman.
“Yuki Smith you’ve never settled in anything. Your education, your career. Yet you’re willing to settle with your heart.”
“Settle? How is enjoying my time with you settling?” He remains silent and I search his eye for a sign that I’m getting through to him, so I push. “So, you mean to tell me you’ll go home with that little blonde without batting an eye.”
“Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. Explain it to me, Dylan. You flirt and tease and invite others to your bed with no strings attached.” I move to sit up, my volume increasing. I yank back and hope the ball buster in me will get me out of his arms and far away before I give in.
“Baby girl your theatrics won’t get you anywhere. You and I both know you are not those other women. Those other women only get a piece of my time because you want to play games.”
“Games? I got your games.” I cut my eyes and roll them with all the sister girl attitude I can muster. I push against the brick wall he calls a chest. “I need to go.”
“You’re not going anywhere until we resolve this.”
“Yeah right. I go where I damn well please.” I feel my heartbeat racing and not out of lust but anger. How dare he tell me no?
“I need you to shake your attitude and talk to me.” This is the real Dylan. The mule-headed man that does things when he pleases and not a minute sooner. The humor in his eyes leaves me livid.
“We’re good.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Most women would love to have this conversation with me. About a future beyond one night in my bed. Although I can promise, you’ll love it.” His brows wiggle.
“And that’s my cue to leave.”
“Fine.” He loosens his grip and I push against his chest. I’m on my knees using the back of the couch for balance. I wiggle the fabric back over my breast and he licks his lips as if remembering. I hope he got a good taste because that will be the last one.
My inner voice, that clearly forgot our no more Dylan chant, is laughing at me. I’m committing to walking off and him begging me to return. I pull the hem of my dress slowly over my exposed bottom, I hear a groan from the couch. I toss my hair over my shoulder and look left and right searching for my shoes. I spot them beneath the coffee table.
“I love the way your lower lip quivers when you don’t get your way.” I freeze. I glance back and his eyes are changing again. Now is the time to leave while my dress is straight and he’s still on the couch. I reach for my heels and before I know it, I’m in his arms.
“You lost your bargaining position the moment you let me taste you.” His hands are lifting my dress and caressing my bottom.
“Let’s not and say we did.” I give him my best kiss-my-ass face and in a flash, his mouth is over mine. His tongue slips past my lips and dives deep. My legs are weak and his mouth is waging war against my determination to leave and not look back.
He licks down my neck and frees my breast again, a quiver runs down my spine as he nibbles and sucks his way lower. My dress is now on the floor. I’m naked except for my silver body necklace and he’s kneeling at my feet.
“Are you going to behave?” His denim eyes challenge me to say anything but yes. He kisses my belly button. Saying yes will change me forever. But I feel powerless. “Yuki, say yes.”
His finger trails down my lower stomach, my body—the traitor—is screaming yes Dylan, yes Dylan, yes Dylan. He stands and his hand is between my legs and my core is eager. To distract my mind, I reach for the bulge now resting against my stomach.
“Not yet baby. Let’s get something clear.” He massages and probes until I’m wet and ready. “You are mine. Understand? No more Stewart.”
Stewart was a willing date for social functions, never a serious relationship.
“And no more blondes?” I look up into his eyes. I trust him, my walls are tumbling faster than I can fathom and his eyes are pleading with me. It goes beyond words and the mounting desire between us. It goes to my heart.
“I accepted what you offered to have a piece of you. Waiting my turn, and I can’t sit around waiting Yuki. I always knew you’d be my girl. And my heart knows having you will make everything in my life complete. Say yes Yuki and you won’t regret it.”
I’m fearless but at this moment with the plea in his eyes, I’m scared. Saying yes means opening myself up to fickle love.
My father never found a woman he didn’t love. He loved my mother, he loved Momma, but not enough to commit to one woman.
Truth be told I trust Dylan but distrust love. Not when the one man in the world who should have loved me the most loved me the least. Remembering that made me a stronger woman. It taught me to trust the facts.
I drop my face not wanting him to see the doubts swimming in my soul.
“Don’t shut me out, baby.” He places a curled finger beneath my chin. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you. But don’t shut me out.” Eyes filled with love wash over me, I nod fighting to remain present.
Can I do this, really? Love him the way he deserves. Give myself, not just my body, to him.
“You know I love you, right?” He smiles.
“Plainspoken as always.” A calming truth enters my mind, the other men in my life didn’t measure up because they were not him. Dylan is the standard.
“Don’t let the past block our future.” He continues.
But how can I keep the past in the past? It’s as real as the air I’m breathing.
“Can we start with tonight?” I ask unsure I’m ready, yet I’m not willing to throw this opportunity away.
“I will do what it takes to prove that this,” his finger touches my chest then his, “is it.” That mule-headed determination is shining in his eyes and I should be worried. Concerned. But I’m not. All I can think is, I’m Dylan’s girl.
“So this means I’m your girl?” I smile at the thought.
“No ma’am, you’re my woman.” He kisses me. Not the smoldering type but warm and filled with love. I can get used to this.
“What type of perks come with this position?”
He laughs and the mounting tension in my body eases. “Well, to start there’s me, of course.”
“Of course.” I snicker.
“And I’m pretty sure I can top our couch session.”
For an instant, his eyes sharpen like a light switch turning on. His eyes cloud in a sexual haze.
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really.” I accept the challenge in his voice brushing my hand over the front of his pants.
“Prove it.”
5
Dylan lifts me in his strong arms and carries me to the back. My stomach muscles clench and now we’re standing in the doorway of what I assume is his bedroom. His assessing eyes are bold, studying me thoughtfully for a moment, my heart turns in response. He’s waiting.
Powerless to resist, I answer the request swimming in the depths of his eyes. I kiss him, wanting to bask in his invisible warmth, his steadfast strength, and the declaration you are mine. And the aching returns.
“Yes, Dylan.”
He stalks into the bedroom placing me on a king size bed, our eyes lock. He kisses up the length of my leg, to my knee, my thigh and pulls the knit fabric gathered at my waist down and tosses it across the room. I twist trying to tame the desire kindling as he and his eyes caress me from the foot of the bed.
A promising smile crosses his face, removing his shirt and his pants in a blink. He grabs me by the knees and pulls me to the edge of the bed, my legs straddling his body. His broad shoulders, defined abs, and…I smile at the gift aimed in my direction.
Dylan drops to his knees and I hear the sound of a package opening.
“Let me.” I sit up and he passes the condom to me. I place it over his manhood and slowly roll it down to the base. He hisses, I glance up.
“Lay back.” His deep voice simmers with unchecked passion and I like it. I follow his command, anxious for relief. He crawls on the bed his knees inside my thighs, spreading me open. I reach for him and guide him to my pulsating core and he pushes inside.
“Damn baby.” We exhale and my body takes him in, filling me completely, our bodies joined as one. He thrusts deeper, his girth stretching me, my nails dig into his back.
“Dylan,” I gasp. His body resting against mine, the light of the moon filling the room. He holds still and I rock my hips.
“Baby don’t, you’re so tight.” A hungry sound escapes, I turn my head and see a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. Gripping his shoulders, I rock again, entranced by the connection between us.
“Please….”
Dylan pushes up on his hand, like before, except this time it’s not his fingers filling me. Deep, steady strokes, our eyes locked, my body welcoming him deeper.
He murmurs words of love and I’m falling and falling fast in a tidal wave of Dylan. My walls grip him and I can’t hold on much longer. His rhythm thrusting into my body in a passionate message. I’m hearing him loud and clear. I hold on tight as my eyes slide shut, every nerve, cell, and ligament at the mercy of him.
“Look at me.” His words, wrapped in their labored breathing. I’m somewhere between torment and ecstasy.
“I can’t," I confess.
He pulls out. Stunned, my eyes widen and his smile has a spark of eroticism. Dylan takes a quick breath then hammers in, I gasp for release then I shatter. Words of forever and a lifetime are flowing from him as overlapping waves of pleasure roll through me, I’m drowning as I scream his name for the world to hear.
His body jerks and with a roar of satisfaction, his body goes limp. He drops to the mattress pulling me with him.
“I love you.” His hot breath on my throat. I love you too.
I wake and I swear the little drummer boy is playing a solo inside my head. I roll over and my body is blocked by…what the—I force my eyes open peering under the black sheets, all I see is a bare chest. I look up and it’s Dylan.
Dylan.
For the love of all that’s—I glance down. Not even my body necklace survived. I’m naked in Dylan’s bed. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to remember what happened last night.
Mexican food, tequila, I love you.
Did I say it back? I comb my hazy memory and I don’t know. My neck snaps in his direction as he turns to the side causing the bed to bounce. He’s always been a heavy sleeper, and he drank more tequila than me. I follow the lines in his chiseled back and see his naked backside. I reach out to—No Yuki!
I hold my throbbing head as the memories of making love a million ways until the sun peak through the room and now, I glance at the clock, two hours later I have to leave. I keep one eye on him and one eye on the edge of the bed. I scoot, pause. He’s still breathing heavy.
Scoot, pause. He doesn’t budge.
I slide off the edge of the bed sure to not move more than absolutely necessary. I drop on all fours. My head is protesting this entire escape plan. No more tequila for me. And I can’t be here when he wakes.
I crawl across the room and find my dress. I glance over my shoulder searching for my panties. The time on the clock ignites a panic, he has a flight leaving for Ireland in three hours. I’m supposed to meet Asher at Mommas in an hour. I crawl as fast as my throbbing head will allow. I reach the bedroom door without waking him. I push to my feet and cover the space between the bedroom and the living room in haste holding my head in one hand and my dress in the other.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The evidence of last night and this morning are bitten across my body. I put on my dress and his jacket. I shrug into it then snatch up my shoes and purse.
My heart is screaming don’t leave. But my brain is counting all the ways this could end badly for me, for us. My body wants to climb back in bed and beg for a repeat. He loved me on every inch of his kingsized bed. He took me from the front the back, leaving me satisfied and wanting more until we dropped off to sleep.
I’m at the elevator pressing the down arrow, hearing…Don’t shut me out.
I can’t do this.
I push the button in rapid succession as if it will speed up the process. Waiting with my eyes fixed on the bedroom door. Then I remember my earrings, I touch my ears. I have a hoop in my right ear and a stud in my left. I see the box on the table.
Ding.
I hold my breath praying it doesn’t wake him, running across the room grabbing the box before the elevator doors close. Inside I fold over gulping down the urge to release dinner right here and now. I lean against the cold steel wall to balance as the elevator finally reaches the first floor.
The doors open. I button his jacket around me, thankful the lobby is empty except for a lady with a service cart down the hall. I push my nose into the fold of my elbow smelling his cologne, my eyes mist as more memories surface from last night.
Was this how my father felt when he walked away from us? Slipping out undetected. Did his heart break for me? For mother? I shake off the thoughts. He has nothing to do with us.
Us.
I walk faster as Dylan’s voice rings in my head, you are mine. I cross the lobby half naked, barefooted, and ashamed, aiming to put as much distance between Dylan and me as possible. I brush away the tears and stiffen my back. I stroll through the lobby pretending my heart will recover and somehow Dylan will forgive me, heading to the one place I need more than anything right now.
I head home.
6
Is it possible to be whole yet incomplete? To stand at the doorway of the best possible outcome and it all crumbles due to fear.
I sit at a traffic light not able to fully process the last twelve hours. The light turns green, I grip the steering wheel driving through the empty streets heading to Momma’s house.
What’s wrong with me? Somehow in one night, I experienced heaven and now hell is raging in my chest. I managed to hurt a man I truly love. I beat the wheel with my closed fist. I’m crying and frustrated. My phone rings and I glance at the display.
Dylan.
I swallow hard, pressing the silence button my foot weighing heavy on the accelerator. I use the sleeve of his jacket to dry my face and his scent surrounds me with his denim eyes and declarations of love.
My heart is warring with itself and it’s my fault. I pull into Momm
a’s driveway. Asher pulls in behind me.
“Crap!” I look in the rearview mirror. I see his mouth moving, he must be on a call. Then I catch a glimpse of myself. I smooth my hair down, yank the jacket closed.
My foot touches the ground and I make a mad dash for the front door.
“Yuki…” he calls from behind me. I stop not turning around. He’ll know what I did. “Good morning sis.” He walks up beside me pulling me into a side hug. He glances down getting a real good look at me, his mouth falls open. “What are you wearing?”
“Good morning.” I swallow hard, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “Where are we going for breakfast?”
“Breakfast?”
I continue walking leaving him shocked near my car. I reach the porch and Momma opens the door. She gives me the once over and steps aside. I whisper, “Thank you.”
“Mmmhum. We’ll talk after you clean up.”
I rush past, she’ll handle Asher. I kiss her cheek and head for my bedroom. This house became my home twenty years ago. Momma took me in and later adopted me. The peace I find with her is unlike any other, except with Dylan. I won’t cry.
I enter my childhood bedroom. It remains the same since high school. I spend the night with Momma a few times a month but today it is my refuge.
I shower and change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I hear a soft tap at the door as I search the closet for shoes.
“Come in.” I call out as I find some old Nike’s. I put them on and step out to see Momma sitting on my bed, waiting.
“Grab the brush.”
I grab it and a few ponytail holders sitting in front of her on the bed. I see her in the reflection of the mirror on my dresser. Our most significant conversations took place during hair time. Life, grades, conflicts, boys, all seemed to disappear like the tangles in my thick hair with the pass of a brush in Momma’s hands.
Yuki's Luck (Smith Pact Duo Book 1) Page 3