Dale
I’m not the type of guy who moves into relationships easily. Maybe it’s because my parents were so in love when I was little and I always wanted that, too. Maybe it’s because after my dad died, my mom was broken. Maybe it’s because there’s a little part of me that’s always hoped one day, I’d find someone who made my heart sing.
No matter where I’ve gone in life, I’ve never met someone who made me feel totally, completely, and utterly alive.
Then I met Oriana.
And now I’m kissing her.
Nothing in my life has felt as right as this moment feels. Nothing has felt as pure or as wonderful or as magical as kissing her does.
“Happy New Year,” she murmurs back, but she doesn’t stop kissing me. She just whispers the words against my lips, and then she pulls me closer. Oriana’s shirt is soaked and now mine is, too, but I don’t give a shit. The only thing that matters right now is that she’s here, in my arms, and I’ve never felt anything so right before.
The door behind us bursts open and Audrey comes rushing in. She ignores the fact that we’re kissing.
“Are you okay?” She asks Oriana. “That guy was a dick.”
Oriana pulls away and smiles at Audrey. She doesn’t seem embarrassed that Audrey caught us, and I like that. I like that she’s not embarrassed or shy or nervous, at least not about this.
“I’m okay,” she says.
“Well, sure, now you are,” Audrey jerks her head toward me. “Now that Boss Man has cheered you up. Do you want something to wear?” She asks, ignoring me and turning toward the duffel bag she leaves in the corner. Audrey has had stuff spilled on her before, so she always keeps extra clothes at work. “Here, this should fit you.” She hands Oriana a plain black shirt.
“Thanks,” Oriana says, taking the shirt. “I really appreciate it.”
“You have one of those for me?” I ask, motioning toward my own wet shirt. Audrey rolls her eyes and just laughs.
“You should have thought about that before you started kissing your buddy there,” she says. Then Audrey leaves, closing the door behind her, and it’s just Oriana and me.
“I’ll step outside so you can change,” I tell her, turning to move.
“Wait,” Oriana grabs my arm, and I stop.
“What is it?”
“You don’t have to leave,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around me, and then she kisses me again. This time, it’s not an exploratory kiss. It’s not gentle or quiet or new. This time, things are a little more serious, and she kisses me deeply. She kisses me like she can’t get enough of it.
She kisses me like this is the most important thing she’s ever done.
I like kissing. I’m good at it and it makes me feel relaxed and content, but kissing Oriana is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Kissing her is like fire and ice all wrapped up in one incredible package. It’s like my heart is burning and my soul is freezing and the only thing that’s going to help is to keep kissing her over and over and over.
Then she stops, pulling away. For a second, I think the kiss is over, but Oriana simply pulls up her shirt. Her heavy breasts bounce as she tosses the wet shirt aside. She’s wearing a red lace bra, but I can see her nipples poking through. I was already hard from kissing her, but now my dick is completely insatiable.
There’ll be no coming back from this, I realize.
If I thought we could be just friends after this, well, we can’t. There’s absolutely no fucking chance I’m going to let Oriana go. Not now.
“You’re beautiful,” I manage to say. My voice comes out husky.
“I could say the same thing about you,” she says. “Don’t you think you should take off your shirt, too?”
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because it’s wet.”
“It’s okay.”
“Maybe I’m embarrassed being the only one without a shirt on,” she says, and I rip my top off and throw it on the ground. She wants to see me without my shirt on? Well, she’s going to fucking see me without my shirt on. No problem. She doesn’t have to ask me twice.
Oriana’s eyes roam my chest and abs. Suddenly, I’m thrilled about the hours I’ve spent at the gym. Sometimes it seems like thankless work, but right now? Right now I’m ready to spend the rest of my damn lifting weights if it means she’s going to keep looking at me like this.
“You like what you see?” I ask her. It’s a stupid line, but I can’t help myself. Suddenly, I don’t want anything more than I want her hands on me.
“Mmm,” she murmurs, and then she touches me. Oriana reaches out and presses her palms against my chest. Then she moves her hands up and down, slowly exploring me. The sensation is so perfect it’s almost painful. She moves slowly, carefully. She takes her time, and I both love and hate it. Part of me wants to throw her down on the couch and make love to her until she goes crazy. Part of me never wants his moment to end because her hands feel so perfect on me.
I reach for her, placing my hands on her waist, and I pull Oriana close to me. She moans as her hips press against mine. Her hands are still on my chest.
“Let me touch you,” I whisper.
“Please,” she moans, kissing my neck.
Slowly, tenderly, I move my hands up her sides and to her full, round breasts. Carefully bouncing them in my hands, I start to massage her. I touch her, playing with her body, and she starts to grind against me.
Fuck.
Me.
Silly.
I refuse to come in my pants like some uncontrolled teenager, but she’s not making it easy on me. Maybe that’s one of the things I like about her. Oriana knows what she wants and she goes for it. She doesn’t take the easy route. She doesn’t take the simple path. She sees what she wants, and she goes for it, claiming it.
Claiming me.
She’s making me her own and I don’t even care. I don’t want to stop this feeling. I want her, all of her, and I want it now, tonight.
Dropping to my knees, I reach for her breasts and begin to lick and suck on them over her bra. She groans, fisting my hair, pulling me closer to her. She tastes just as sweet as I thought she would, and I reach around behind her, unhooking her bra. It falls to the floor, forgotten, and I get my first clear look of her heavy breasts and dark nipples.
I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything before in my life.
Flicking my tongue out, I circle each nipple, tasting her. I nibble on her a little bit. This makes her moan. It makes me crazy. She’s fucking gorgeous, and she thrusts her breasts out further for me, offering them to me silently.
“Oriana,” I moan.
“Please,” she whispers. “Don’t you fucking stop, Dale.”
“I’ve wanted this since you walked through the doors of my bar,” I confess quietly, and she stills for a minute, but then she drops down to her knees, too, and she kisses me.
“I know,” she whispers. “I’ve wanted this, too.”
Then she grabs my hair and pulls me closer to her body. Instantly, I react to her. She wants me to worship her breasts? I’ll fucking worship them. Oriana smells like sunshine and rainbows and all that beautiful shit I never thought twice about. Now it’s all I can think about. She’s all I can think about, and I fucking want her.
I need her.
Gently, I start pushing her backwards until her legs hit the couch. Then she sits and leans back. She rests her head on the back of the couch and closes her eyes and I have full access to her body. And oh, a fucking beautiful body it is.
Oriana is curvy and lovely. Her skin is soft, and I can’t help myself as I lean forward and begin to lick her again. My tongue flicks across her stomach and up to her nipples, where I keep playing with her.
She starts to wiggle, and she reaches for me.
“Dale,” she whispers. “I’m going to fucking come just from this. Holy fucking dragons,” she tells me. “This is the best thing I’ve ever felt. Please,” she begs. “Don’t stop.”
“I wasn’t planning on it, princess,” I tell her. “But let’s get you out of these jeans, why don’t we?”
I pull off her shoes and toss them aside. Then I undo the button at the top of her jeans. Oriana lifts her hips as I pull her pants down, revealing a thong that matches her bra. I look up at her and raise an eyebrow.
“Did you dress up tonight?” I ask her.
“It is New Year’s, after all,” she blushes.
“Were you planning on picking someone up?” I ask. A spark of jealousy at the idea of her being with another man ignites, but then it fades. She dressed up for me, didn’t she? She wanted me to see her tonight. She was hoping for it, just like I was, and somehow, that realization is both calming and exhilarating.
“I was,” she says, cocking her head to the side. Then, confirming my suspicions, she adds, “You.”
“What if I’m shy?” I ask. “What if that man hadn’t been a dick and your shirt had been dry all night? How were you going to convince me to take my top off?” I can’t help teasing her just a little bit, but Oriana teases me right back.
Leaning forward, she presses her breasts into my face.
“Oh, bar man,” she says. “I have my ways.”