“I think we need to clear things up. I know I have a reputation.” He starts, voice still thick and sexy. My stomach drops. “And yes I fucked a lot of brunettes over the years, but I’m telling you now they didn’t mean a thing.” A million questions should jump to mind, but I can only think of one.
“Before you ask … I never did blondes or blue eyes because of you. I didn’t want to ruin the dream. I fucked the opposite of my type.” Oh, he’s good. My issue is answered. I’m not sure how he knows my thoughts all the time, but it doesn’t freak me out anymore.
“Oh, so you do have a type?”
“Didn’t I tell you to keep quiet?” Ug, he’s bossy. “Yes, you’re my type.” My very small inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba.
“Sex, adrenaline, racing … it all just helps me to cope with the loss and the guilt.” I close my eyes. Yeah, cause that makes things so much better.
“You’re right … I don’t do relationships. But I want to try … with you.” My eyes fly open. His unwavering stare gets stuck on mine – as if peering right through my heart to my soul. I shiver.
“I can’t say I’m your forever guy, but I think you might be it for me. I don’t just want to fuck you -” Right, now I’m sure I’ve hit my head harder than I thought.
“What?”
“Okay, I do want to fuck you pretty badly, but I also want to do all the other things I’ve never done with a girl before.” There’s more? But I’m still stuck with the word ‘relationship’ coming from his mouth.
“You want a relationship? With me?” I must be experiencing some side effects from the drugs.
“Yes.” My mouth drops and I freeze. No bodily functions working at all – no breathing, no heartbeat, no blinking. An infinite amount of time passes – a second, a minute, an hour … I can’t say.
“Say something.” He’s staring as if looking for a pulse from afar.
“You told me not to.” Not sure how that got out through my dry throat.
“So now you suddenly start listening to me.”
“Oh, you’re pretty intense when you’re upset.” I don’t even know what I’m saying. My mind flies at a million miles per hour, I can’t think straight. “I didn’t want to end up like the poor cupboard door.” Some strange emotion flashes over his face.
“I will never hurt you,” he peeves. “I promise you that.” I know he’s talking about physically. And yes, I know that. I’m not scared that he will hit me.
“Maybe not physically, but you will.” It’s the more primal kind of assault that terrifies me. And that will lead to much more pain than any punch in the face can ever cause. “Men tend to do stupid hurtful things all the time.” He pouts like a little boy and it should not be this sexy.
“I know I’ve hurt you before,” he says. “And I’m not making excuses here, but I was stupid back then. Young. A big coward. I thought I was protecting you from me … my past … my demons. But I know now that I was protecting myself. From you. I was so fucking scared of how easily you could make me lose control.” He sighs.
“You still can.” I’m starting to realize that he has an obsession with control. Or he’s a control freak. “It actually scares the shit out of me.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.” We are both going to screw up lots of times during our forever – given the fact that neither of us has been in a relationship before. Combine that with the complications of dominating brothers and the ever-curious interfering press, and you have a drama destined for disaster.
But I guess we can work through all that and learn to cope, but there’s one thing I won’t be able to survive.
“But if you shatter my heart, I won’t forgive you. So no more brunettes … or just stop fooling around altogether.”
“I already did.”
“Great.” I get off the bed and walk to where he’s sitting. Both my arms fold around him and I lean over, pressing my face into his hair.
“Mmm. You stink.” He stays rigid. My mouth moves to his neck and licks the spot where a vein is pulsing. “You taste as salty as you smell, did you know that?”
He moves, and with a sudden turn, I’m now straddling him, instead of him straddling the chair.
He cups the back of my head in one big hand and kisses me – right on the mouth – and I give myself up – enjoying the heat and taste of him. My body is plastered against his, his arms squashing me rock solid against this chest.
As if I’m still not near enough, he tugs me even closer, and deepens the kiss. Driven by spontaneous primal reflexes my body takes over and I feel things and urges I never have before. My need grows and I rock against him impatiently.
He takes his damn time, slowly and almost unbearably erotic his hands slide in under my shirt.
His fingertips come to rest just beneath my breasts.
My nipples perk and ache for his touch, and my back arches as if to push my tits to his face. He lifts his head and looks at me, his gaze wild, pulling me in and I feel like I’m going to drown.
“Mmm.” I suck in an uneven breath, shocked by the indescribable warm ‘itch’ between my legs. It’s as if my vagina came to life and took over my brain, begging for attention.
He’s hard. His arms are hard, his chest is hard, his abs are hard, his thighs are hard.
Everything is hard. And I swallow hard.
One hand moves inside the back of my shorts, gripping my butt cheek through the cotton bikini brief he bought and my desire explodes.
His other hand is still beneath my shirt and his fingers stroke my skin, leaving a hot trail of goosebumps in their wake.
Both my hands are low on his abs, my fingers playing with the loose waistband of his jeans.
He lifts his head and looks at me, his eyes nearly black with desire.
“From now on, you’re mine. Just mine,” he growls with a carnal possessiveness that should scare me, but instead turns me on. He gives me one last long look before his mouth comes down on mine with an animalistic growl, completely consuming us both. He annihilates me – there is just no other word for it.
And I let him.
Shifting his mouth, lower, he kisses my jaw, then my throat. Moving my tee aside he nibbles on my shoulder while I clutch his hips in desperation.
Gasping, I arch my back, lifting myself into him, rolling the slow, warm heat over his hardness.
He smiles against my skin as if he just won the damn lotto, and then continues the trail of fire his lips leave on my skin. I feel as if I can scream in frustration and need.
Hell, I never knew lust could feel so much like diabolical torture. I’m sure he’s teasing me by deliberately not giving me what I want. I wiggle against him. It’s as if all logic flew out the window and I’m stuck with cravings I never even knew were possible.
Desires I never experienced while playing with myself – so inborn and erotic they will make my brothers blush. The hungry yearns I feel are bordering on nonsensical, stronger than anything I have ever experienced.