I had no other experiences when it came to dates or dating. . . but everything from the wine to the dessert he fed me, it was the perfect night. I could bore you with all the details, but I think I know what you want to hear.
What happens when we get back to the house, right?
We certainly weren’t going to be playing Mario Brothers.
Looking over, I find him smiling. He’s relaxed, driving with his left hand hanging loosely off the wheel while his right is draped along the back of the bench seat, opening and inviting.
Warming cheeks and nervousness in my chest, I slide across and sit in the middle spot, and his arm curves around my shoulders smooshing me to his side. The closeness comforts me in a way I don’t need to explain.
“Thank you,” Shade murmurs, his nose moving along my jaw, hiding in my curls.
“For what?”
“For tonight. It was nice to get out of the house with you.”
“I’m glad I was able to help you out.”
His arm tightens around me. “There’s something else you can help me with.”
“What’s that?” Stupid question, isn’t it?
You tell me. Take a look at the hunger in his eyes and the way his breath hitches when I run my hand up his thigh to the junction between his thighs.
Guess who’s hard? Doesn’t take much these days.
My fingers dance along the straining edge of his erection to his piercing. I outline the metal through his shorts; he reacts, his thighs tensing, his breathing increasing. And then maybe I’m not thinking, but I lean my fucking head down and bite it. Honestly, what the fuck has gotten into me?
I don’t bite it hard, but it is enough that Shade jerks the wheel and nearly hits an oncoming car.
“Okay.” He taps my head. “Let’s not do this in the car. . . or the shower.”
I laugh, sitting up and sliding back over to my place in the passenger seat. Do you see me there? Are you looking at my face? Clearly I’m disappointed.
WE MANAGE TO make it back to the house, unscathed, and we’re standing in front of the guest house where I’m going to head inside and in theory, he’ll return to the main house.
That’s how dates usually work, right?
Ha. Not ones where you go out with Shade Sawyer.
“Thanks for walking me home,” I say, smiling.
He winks. “I can’t let you walk home alone.” He motions to the swimming pool, and then the main house where we can see Tiller and about ten other people in the den. “It’s a rough neighborhood.” And then he steps into me. “Okay, here it is. My. . . truth, or whatever.” He pauses and I wait. “You terrify me. Completely,” he admits, dropping his forehead to mine. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve had one experience with love, and it was awful.”
You heard that, right? He mentioned love, didn’t he?
It’s not where I thought the conversation was going, especially not since I bit his dick in the car. Maybe it’s all the built-up fluid in him going to his brain?
“I don’t have any experience with this either,” I admit. Our eyes meet and the confusion in his mirrors mine. “The one relationship I had wasn’t healthy.”
He nods, his hands in his pockets. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.” I pause, smiling. Then a small giggle slips out, and I cover my mouth. “Was that too quick of a response?”
He laughs. “No.”
I unlock the door, and the second it’s open, he moves my hair to the side, he presses his warm lips to the curve of my neck. His chest touches mine, just barely but it’s enough his heat sends a shiver through my entire body.
“We can’t have sex,” I blurt out. “Or. . . I guess we could. We’re adults but I just. . . .” My voice fades when I notice he moves away from me, back toward the bed.
He sits down, nodding and runs his hand through his hair, but he’s not getting up and walking away, which I’m thankful for because I don’t want him to. After dinner and everything he said to me, the last thing I want is for the night to end. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I think it’s okay.” When I sit next to him, he looks at me, searching my eyes. Reaching up, he twirls a curl around his finger. “There’s no harm in waiting, is there?”
“No, there’s not,” I agree, smiling. “But we can do other things.”
He lets out a heavy breath when I step between his legs, his hands on my hips. “Thank fuck. I was hoping you’d say that.”
And in the next second, his mouth crashes to mine.
He lays on his back on the bed bringing me back with him.
He trails kisses until he reaches my shoulders and bites down on the strap of my dress and yanks with his teeth. It breaks under the force.
Okay, he didn’t like that dress as much as he said he did.
He rolls me over carefully, and I’m distracted when his hands cover my pierced nipples and he tugs on them. “What made you get your nipples pierced?”
“It wasn’t my idea. It was Asher’s.” Between my legs now, I watch him with rapt attention as he cups them. “But they’re tiny so adding bling really helped them out, don’t you think?”
Ask any woman, there’s a wrong and right way to answer this.
He laughs and bends forward, capturing my right nipple rings and swirls and tugs at the sensitive hard pebbles. “I think they’re perfect.”
He answers correctly.
My knuckles whiten as I tighten my grip on the comforter my palms are pressed against.
“Goddamn,” he says, drawn out and heavy, lids half open as he rocks above me. Bringing his thumb to my mouth, he presses it to my bottom lip, drags it along my lips and teeth, making me part them. “Let me hear you. Don’t hold back, tell me how it feels.”
My jaw falls slack, my moans for him filling the room. “It’s so good.” Dry humping isn’t usually my thing, but when you have a clit piercing and there’s only your panties and his shorts separating you from his cock, it’s fucking amazing.
Dipping his head forward, his mouth clamps around my nipples as he breathes the words, “Come for me, baby.”
My head falls back, my pleasure coming in waves. Shade is everywhere at once, moving hard and moaning so lowly. It’s a rough sound, and I think he’s hurt, but his rhythm is wild.
“It would be so good,” he says, nudging my panties aside and pushing his fingers inside me.
Brave on lust, my hand finds him. He groans, pushing my hand down harder, rubbing against it. His arms tremble from the weight bearing down on them. The ache between my legs is almost too much to handle. Shade’s talented. He gets me off in mere seconds; I’m not even lying.
Slowly kissing my neck, his fingers move harder and harder until my legs fall open and my back curves, my neck arching. “Are you imagining me inside of you? All of me.”
“I know what that’s like,” I tell him, catching his hooded eyes. His hand returns to mine, wanting me to touch him again. I guess somewhere in the process of my own long overdue orgasm, I’d stopped touching him. Time to finish the job.
Moving my hand along his length, soft and like marble, his sharp intake of breath when I begin my long, hard strokes tells me what I’m doing is what he wants, as if I actually had any doubt.
It’s certainly not long before his body shakes, his voice returning against my lips as we share breaths.
“Fuck, baby. . . don’t—” he begins, but doesn’t finish. What sounds like pain shifts into the sexiest unsteady breathing pattern ever as he chases his need into me, and then he comes, my hand covered in thick white cum.
Call me a rebel, but I bring my hand to my lips and lick it off. Before you get all grossed out on me, check out Shade’s reaction and tell me you’re still disgusted.
Shade’s jaw clenches, his lustful fiery eyes intent on mine, watching me lick off his cum. As if he can’t take it anymore, his head falls forward, against my shoulder. “Christ. . . that was fucking hot.”
Told you.
“Now imagine that, but inside me,” I say, repeating his words.
Drawing back, he sits up before me running his hand through his hair. “I am. That’s the problem.”