Chapter Eleven
AFTER THEIR IMPROMPTU make-out session and her resignation, Emery had pulled back a little, as if she wasn’t sure how close she should allow herself to get to Dean. While Dean respected her need for space, their smoking-hot connection made him surer than ever that they belonged together. He wasn’t about to back down.
They had dinner at PJ’s Restaurant, and when Emery sat across the table from him, he moved beside her, earning a slightly uneasy look that was so opposite of what he was used to, it took all his resolve not to take a step back. Instead, he put his arm around her and said, “Stop fighting it, Emery. This is exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
She was stunned into silence, but he’d broken the ice, and they recovered quickly, falling into the comfortable, fun friendship they’d enjoyed for the last few months—with underlying promises of much more.
Emery insisted she didn’t want fries with her lobster roll, and she ended up eating most of Dean’s. His quirky girl was nothing like the women he was used to. She ate like she didn’t care if she gained an ounce of weight and seemed to prefer to eat everything as if it were a finger food, licking the salt from her fingertips. She looked so fucking hot, he’d spent most of the evening with his cock at half-mast. She also cursed often, laughed too loud, and fought him on everything—and for whatever reason, each of those things made him fall harder for her.
When they arrived back at his place, she headed outside to shower beneath the moonlight. Being the gentleman he was, Dean had offered to join her, to help her wash her back, of course. But she’d gotten that uneasy expression of not knowing if she should cross that line…yet. He relented, showering alone inside the house, thinking about his naked beauty beneath the warm shower spray. Even turning the shower to Nordic temperatures didn’t help. With the hopes of making it through the night without sporting a steel rod, he’d taken things into his own hands, using images of Emery in her bikini to help him find relief.
Showered and dressed, he carried a blanket outside and tossed it on a lounger. Emery’s melodic voice sailed into his ears. “What if…I might hurt you.” Hum, hum, hum. “…or leave you…” Hum, hum, hum. “Find someone else…or don’t need you…”
His chest constricted. Was it a coincidence, or was she giving him a message? He knew the song by Kane Brown, and the tune was right, but she had the lyrics wrong. He, Rick, and Drake had played in a band together when they were growing up. Drake now owned a chain of East Coast music stores, and they all still played from time to time. “What Ifs” had become one of his favorite songs over the winter. Now, as Emery sang about the sky falling and if the sun stopped burning, he finally understood why. The lyrics were Emery’s deepest fears.
He stepped closer to the shower, cutting her off mid-lyric as he sang his own rendition of the song. “I hear you, doll. I feel your worry. But before you make up your mind, I gotta know…”
He heard her gasp, and he let the words fall free. “What if we were made for each other? What if we were meant to be? What if the stars aligned and we had our last first kiss in the deep blue sea?”
The water turned off, and the towel slipped from the top of the stall. Dean held his breath, and just when he was sure he’d blown it, her melodic voice filled the cool night air.
“What if I mess us up? Break our hearts in two?” She was quiet again, and he heard the sound of her pulling on her shorts and hoodie. The wooden door opened, and she stood before him, a vision of beautiful vulnerability. Her hazel eyes were shadowed with trepidation, a few wayward strands of hair stuck to her cheek, dripping water onto her clothes.
She nibbled at her lower lip, her long lashes fluttering as she whisper-sang, “What if I don’t know how to do this? What if I hurt you? What if—”
He reached behind her, taking the towel from where it hung on a hook, and used it to gently blot her hair dry as he sang, “You won’t hurt me, because hurting me will hurt you, too.” He tossed the towel onto the bench inside the stall and tucked her hair behind her ear. Gazing into her eyes, he gathered her close, swaying to the soft tune he heard in his head, and sang, “What if I show you how incredible you can be?”
“Dean,” she whispered, touching her forehead to his chest.
He tipped up her chin and gazed into her eyes. “What will it take for you to believe that whatever happened with your previous guy friends will not happen with us?”
“I know that now,” she said, surprising him. “Whatever this is between us is nothing like anything I’ve felt before. It’s stronger. I can’t, and I don’t want to, deny it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried that I’ll screw it up.”
“I have faith in my woman,” he said earnestly.
“Your woman?”
“Don’t fight me.” He grabbed her ass and squeezed. Her eyes widened with surprise. “You know we belong together. I just watched you attack the waves until you figured out a way to conquer them. You asked for help, which I’m sure you struggled with as if your life depended on it, and the end result wasn’t conventional, but I don’t think there’s a single thing about you that’s conventional. And because I know you, because I have spoken to you nearly every goddamn day since the day we met and I know how caring and strong a person you are, I am one hundred percent certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that if you want this to work, you won’t allow yourself to screw it up.”
“I told you I don’t know when I do things that piss guys off.”
Her response came too fast. It was too much of a knee-jerk reaction to be anything but an old standby. He knew she hadn’t really heard and processed what he’d said, so he tried a different approach. “You know what, doll? While I believe that you might not be cognitively aware of the things you do, I’m not buying that you don’t know exactly what you’re doing on some level. Even if subconsciously.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he felt her stiffen against him. “Did you just call me a liar?”
“No, Miss Rebellion. I called you human. We all hide from ourselves on some level. Maybe you knew those guys weren’t right for you, or maybe you were scared of getting too close. I don’t know, and frankly, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is this. You might not have been aware of your actions before, but that doesn’t mean you’ll keep yourself in the dark in the future.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she said, her shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch.
He flattened his hand on her lower back, keeping their bodies flush, until the defeat in her eyes turned darker and her body began to melt against him. And then he remained quiet, letting their silent seduction take over. The desire that had been there all day, that had exploded to epic proportions in their kisses, thrummed between them. An inescapable force she’d refused to see for too long.
When her tongue swept across her lower lip, leaving it shiny and alluring, he brushed his lips over hers, lingering there in the silence, reveling in the quickening of her breathing, the press of her fingers into his chest. Oh yeah, she was too into him to fuck this up. He was sure of it.
“You’re worth holding my breath for,” he said in a voice so raw with lust he didn’t recognize it. “We’ll just have to spend a hell of a lot of time together so you can expose me to all those supposedly horrible things you do. Only then will I know the truth. And make no mistake, beautiful girl. I am fully aware that if you want to fuck this up, you will. I’m willing to take that risk.”
“Promise if I screw up, we can still be friends?” she asked.
There was no thought involved with his answer. Honesty didn’t take thought; it only took courage. Dean was the king of courage. He’d spent his life going against his father’s wishes.
He threaded his hands into Emery’s hair, greedily soaking in the want in her eyes, the stiffening of his cock. He tangled her hair around his fingers, shifting her mouth beneath his, and said, “No. I won’t promise you that, because if you fuck this up, it’ll be intentional.”
DEAN’S MOUTH HOVERED above Emery’s, his warm, minty breath teasing over her lips. She’d always thought she had her shit together, except in the relationship department. She knew she was broken. Her whole family was broken. The Andrews: Too Fucked Up for Happily Ever Afters. But if what Dean said was true, if she was sabotaging any chance she had at happiness, she was really messed up.
She swallowed hard, knowing she’d practically worn a neon sign telling him to run away. Only he refused to go—and she didn’t want him to!
He stayed.
He pushed.
She loved his pushiness, and she craved his intensity. He’d catapulted her right out of denial and into the land of desire so powerful she was drowning in it. And she only wanted to satisfy it with him.
His lips grazed hers, sending shivers down her spine.
“Kiss me,” she said breathlessly.
Then his hands were in her hair, his mouth on hers, pushing away all thought. The insanely erotic scratch of his beard made her core burn and ache. When he pressed his entire body to hers, hips, chest, thighs, she stumbled back against the side of the shower stall. She barely caught her breath before he was taking their kisses deeper, and only one thought flashed in her mind. Please let him be right. Let me be capable of not fucking this up.
His kisses were rough yet sensual, demanding. Always demanding. She opened her mouth wider, accepting his magnificent assault. His hips ground against her in a dizzying rhythm as his hands caged her in—one around her waist, the other buried in her hair. She’d already come to crave his possessive hold as his hands moved up along her waist. His kisses unraveled her, but his fierce domination annihilated her. She’d always wanted a man who knew how to be a man, who knew how to take without forcing, how to give without becoming too soft, and was sensitive enough to listen and care without losing his edge. Yes, she craved it all, even if she didn’t think she could hold on to such a magnificent creature. But she didn’t worry about that too much as she dreamed about the perfect potent male, because until Dean, she’d never come across a single one.
As their lips parted, a whimper escaped. No! She wasn’t done yet. Maybe not ever if he kept up these mind-blowing kisses. How could she have denied this heat? The passion arcing between them? She grabbed his shirt and pulled his mouth back to hers. Their tongues thrust, hips ground. Electric currents zinged along the surface of her skin, and her entire body exhaled, like she needed Dean to breathe. His hands were everywhere at once, on her shoulders, arms, hips, trailing up her sides. His heavy palms grazed the sides of her breasts, and she heard herself moaning, willing him to take more as he nipped a path along her jaw. Each stinging bite heightened her arousal.
He clutched her hips, holding her exactly where he wanted her as he gyrated with impeccable precision against her swollen, needy sex. His mouth took up residence in the sensitive area beneath her earlobe, devastating her one openmouthed kiss at a time. The delicious friction between her legs, coupled with his hard suck, his insistent tongue on her neck, and the firm press of his hands on her hips set off an explosion inside her.
“Dean! Don’t stop—”
The desperation in her voice mirrored the agonizing pleasures tearing through her. She dug her nails into his shoulders as her entire body pulsed erratically. He didn’t relent. His hips thrust faster, and he sucked harder. Heat and ice burned through her core, pooling between her legs. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and her sex throbbed beneath her soaked panties. An orgasm taunted her from just out of reach. She arched forward, grinding against his cock. He must have sensed her teetering on the edge, because his powerful thighs pushed her legs open wider as he sank lower, angled his hips, and pressed his thick length upward against her sex, thrusting fast and hard. The thin layer of denim between them felt nonexistent. She felt every bit of his girth and imagined how good he would feel buried deep inside her, his engorged head breaching her entrance time and time again…
“Come for me,” he growled with such ferocious passion, she lost it.
A stream of indiscernible sounds flew from her lips as she grabbed at his shoulders, her body bucking uncontrollably. His mouth crashed over hers, muffling her cries as she soared to the peak. He deepened the kiss, and it intensified everything, keeping her at the peak longer, pleasure rippling from her scalp all the way to the tips of her toes, taking her up, up, up, until her whole body trembled and quaked, bringing a descent in earth-shattering waves.
When the last of her orgasm shuddered through her, she collapsed, spent and sated, against him. He lifted her into his arms, lavishing her with tender kisses as he carried her to the lounger. He sank down, tucking her safely along his side, and covered them with a blanket. Shocked by what he was capable of without so much as touching her in the places she always thought needed it most, Emery was lost in a sea of emotions.
She turned toward him and his leg moved over hers. His arm circled her waist, bringing her into the safety of him. He was wearing shorts, and his skin was warm despite the cool temperature. She snuggled closer. His erection pressed against her belly, awakening her body again. Just as quickly as she reignited, she cringed inside. She’d been so swept up in him, she hadn’t reciprocated. Way to go, selfish.
She pressed a kiss just above the collar of his T-shirt and began kissing her way south. A niggling of worry stepped in, and she froze. Blow jobs ranked right up there with full-on sex. In fact, they were even more intimate. Once they moved past their clothing, there was no turning back. Is there really any turning back now? She didn’t want to turn back, but what if things got awkward? Would they look at each other differently afterward? Would she ever be able to look at him again and not see him naked?
And then there was the other issue she was trying to push to the side. What if when she told Rick and Drake she preferred not to work for them directly—because I want to be with Dean—they got upset because she’d been the one who had approached them about the job in the first place? She could omit the part about Dean, but they’d figure it out. She sucked at lying. Denial came much easier. But there was no denying her feelings anymore.
She glanced at the house and her stomach clenched.
Being outside, under the cover of night, gave her a sense of freedom and made her feel like everything was okay. She realized she’d felt freer, and like herself, more often today than ever before, and she knew it was because of her deep connection with Dean more than her surroundings. But once they went inside his house, they’d face a whole new landscape, with questions and boundaries that might no longer exist.
Dean tightened his hold. “You feel like you’re deciding if you should bolt.”
“I’m…” Trying to decide if I should reciprocate. “Not bolting.”
“Damn right you’re not,” he said firmly.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Damn it. Why did her habits have to be so ingrained?
He shifted his leg off her and waved his hand. “No one’s holding you hostage, doll. If Miss Rebellious wants to sabotage the best thing she’s ever had, have at it.”
Ouch. That stung, but the element of truth buzzed like a firefly. She tried to tease it away. “My, aren’t we cocky?”
He arched a brow, amusement playing in his eyes. “After that orgasm, I have a right to be.”
She had to agree. Just hearing him say the word made her thighs clench. “Okay, I’ll give you that. You’re quite talented.”
He put his leg over her again, and in one move, he was lying above her, his hips between her legs. “You haven’t seen talented yet.”
She knew he wasn’t bluffing, and the hard press of his arousal made her want to find out. But as much as she wanted him, and wanted to reciprocate the incredible way he’d made her feel, it was more important to know that when they woke up tomorrow, nothing will have changed for the worse. Then they could make clearheaded decisions.
His mouth came coaxingly down over hers, and like a fish to water, her body instantly responded, arching and grinding.
He perched on his forearms, smiling down at her.
“I really like when you do that.” She reached up and stroked his face.
“Kiss you?”
She shook her head. “Smile.” That earned an even wider smile. “You’re always hot, but you’re dangerously hot when you smile.”
“I’m only dangerous to those who fuck with me.” He kissed her neck. “Or anyone who dares fuck with you.”
“That made you even hotter.”
“Good. Remember that when we go out on real dates, like in a few weeks, for example.”
“In a few weeks?” Was this his way of telling her he was busy until then? She’d had such a good time today, she’d assumed they’d spend more time together. She was surprised by the disappointment swamping her.
“What’s the matter, doll? I’m not hot enough for you to go on real dates with?”
The spark of tease in his eyes told her that he didn’t believe that his being hot enough was even a consideration. With anyone else, that arrogance would be a turn-off, but with Dean, it was a major aphrodisiac, making it easier to push aside the disappointment of not knowing if they’d spend time together in the days between now and their date. “That depends. Will our date include one of those epic orgasms afterward?”
He trailed kisses down her neck. “Before, during, and after that Friday night, if I have my way.”
Oh Lord. How would she survive that? “The odds are tipping in your favor.”
He winked.
“Where are we going on that Friday night?”
He tugged down her neckline and pressed a kiss to the center of her breastbone. “A benefit dinner for my grandfather’s foundation. My father is the keynote speaker.”
She knew his grandfather had been one of the nation’s first pediatric neurosurgeons, and he’d started the Pediatric Neurology Foundation, with which his family was still very involved. But her gut fisted at the thought of attending a dinner with Dean’s family. More specifically, his father, a well-known, and arrogant, physician who ran one of the most prestigious pediatric neurosurgery practices on the East Coast. Knowing how he was constantly riding Dean to sell his share in the resort and go to medical school made her more likely to slap his father than speak to him.
“What are you trying to do, pick a fight with your father? You know how I feel about the things he says to you, and I’m not good at holding my tongue. When he starts giving you crap about not going to medical school, I’m going to say something I shouldn’t. It’s not a good idea.”
Dean moved lower, and the blanket fell to the ground. She didn’t need it anyway. He kept her so revved up, she didn’t have time to cool down. He pushed her hoodie above her ribs, exposing her belly to the air. His warm lips trailed across her stomach, bringing rise to goose bumps.
“You’re my girl now, and I want you with me.”
His girl? She’d never been one of those women who needed to be, or wanted to be, claimed by a man, but in the space of a day spent with Dean, it felt like the only thing she’d ever wanted. She reminded herself that it hadn’t only been a day. They’d been building up to this for months, but she’d been buried too deep in denial to let herself enjoy it.
“Will Jett be there?” she asked cautiously.
He scoffed. “He’s conveniently going to be out of the country dealing with investments.”
“That’s another man I won’t hold my tongue around. I know he’s your brother, but he’s too weak to be in the same room as your dad. He should show up once in a while.”
“Jett might argue that I’m the weak one. But can we not talk about my brother right now?”
“You? Weak? Ha!”
He circled her belly button with his tongue, sending scintillating pleasures feathering outward from her core and dragging her back to the delicious heat of the moment. She couldn’t let him go down on her. Not yet. That was a hard limit for tonight. She’d made a lot of bad decisions in her life, and though she knew Dean wasn’t one of them, she wanted to be completely clearheaded when they took the next step. She needed to see for herself that in the light of day, when her head wasn’t foggy with lust and her body wasn’t acting like a ravenous beast that fed off orgasms, they’d still be on the same page.
Maybe just a few more belly kisses.
“I don’t know about that dinner,” she said breathlessly. The last thing she wanted to do was cause trouble between Dean and his father, but she also wanted to be there for Dean. She went with levity while she thought it over. “There are several weeks between now and then. What if I get a better offer?”
He lifted his face, meeting her gaze with a serious expression. “Has someone forgotten our three-example-outings deal?”
Her heart soared. He wasn’t busy after all? Well, except with her. “No…”
“Tomorrow, six p.m., be ready for outing number two.”
“Is that how I should expect guys to ask me out? Because that was pretty much a demand.” And oh, how she loved his demands. But she wouldn’t like any other man taking such liberties.
His lips curved up in a smile. “My apologies. Beautiful doll, will you go on an example outing with me tomorrow evening at six?”
“I will,” she said sassily. “But a few more belly kisses might seal the deal.”
“As you wish.” He lowered his open mouth to her belly, sucking and licking so adeptly she felt it between her legs.
His tongue slid along the waist of her shorts, and her sex clenched in anticipation. Her fingers curled into fists as he continued his oral assault, snaking that talented tongue from one hip to the other, then lower, licking and sucking her inner thighs. She was so wet, so desperate for more, she dug her heels into the lounger. Her body screamed yes! but the organ she’d ignored for so long—her heart—told her to wait. Don’t fuck this up.
She squeezed her eyes shut. And then she squeezed her thighs together. Dean lifted his head again, confusion riddling his handsome face. She had to say something, but her words refused to come.
Come. Oh God, I want to come.
No! Jesus. Get a grip. You can wait one more day!
“I know I’m your girl now,” she managed, and saying it out loud magnified the meaning behind it, rejuvenating her resolve. “But you said this time together was an example of how I should expect guys to treat me. Is this what I should expect when I go out on first dates? Should I let them go down on me?” Even talking about other guys seemed wrong on too many levels, but it was the only reason she could come up with in her current frazzled state.
The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Absolutely not.”
“Then maybe…” She sat up and wrapped her arms around her trembling legs. “We should call it a night.”
He nodded curtly, his face stoic, eyes still dark as night, clearly struggling as he pushed to his feet, picked up the blanket, and offered her his hand. He helped her to her feet, and they walked awkwardly, and silently, inside. She felt a fissure forming inside her, and at the same time, she knew she’d done the right thing. But she worried about what was going on in Dean’s head.
“I should get the towel from the shower,” she said to break the ice, and turned to go back outside.
He grabbed her around the waist, hauling her against him with that same stoic expression. But his eyes softened, filled with worry. So much worry it caused the fissure to tear wide open.
“I’m sorry,” they both said at once.
“No. It’s my fault,” she said quickly. “I want to be with you, but I’m afraid of what the morning will bring. I’m not good at this, and I’ve ruined enough friendships. I can’t ruin ours.”
“I shouldn’t have rushed you. I know better, but I’m so fucking into you, Emery, I can barely control myself.”
He pressed a hand to the back of her head, bringing her cheek against his chest, and held her so tight she was sure his handprint would be branded into her skull. It was a good hold, a solid hold. The hold of a man who was fighting against everything inside him.
Join the party.
“You can’t ruin us,” he said vehemently. “You’re not capable of it, Emery. One day you’ll understand that.”
He drew back and gazed into her eyes. “It’s late. Go get ready for bed. I’ll grab the towel.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead, and as she watched him disappear into the darkness, it took everything she had to force her legs to carry her into the bathroom instead of running after him. She closed the door and leaned her back against it. If she’d had any reservations before, now she knew for sure that whether she’d let him go down on her or not, everything had already changed.