“I HOPE YOU realize just how pissed off I am at you right now,” I say as I sit in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, watching him weave easily in and out of traffic. We’ve been driving in silence for eight long-ass minutes and my annoyance level is through the roof.
He turns the radio down and clears his throat before glancing over at me. “Why, because I don’t want other men looking at you? Tough shit. That dress should be illegal.” His hand grips the center console and I stare at his red cut up knuckles.
Crossing my legs and letting my dress ride up on purpose, I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. “What happened? You didn’t kill him, did you? I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to visit you in prison.” Although, a conjugal visit with Reese might be worth Justin’s demise. Mmmm, he could rock the hell out of some jail attire.
Stopping at a red light, he flexes his injured hand before he reaches over and slips his finger under my garter, snapping it against my skin and making me yelp. “No, I didn’t kill him, but he probably wishes he was dead right now. He won’t bother you again.” I bat his hand away to keep him from pulling at it as the red light turns to green. “Did you have fun tonight?”
Forcing out a laugh, I turn to him and see a hint of teasing in his set profile, his lip twitching slightly. “Oh, yeah, I was having a blast until this crazy man showed up and freaked out over my wardrobe selection, which, by the way, was for your eyes only. You owe me multiple orgasms for that little tirade.”
He lets out a laugh as he pulls into the parking garage of his building. “Oh, I think I’m the one who is in need of multiple orgasms. It is my birthday after all.” Wait, what?
“It’s your birthday? Today?” He nods with a smile and parks the car, stepping out as I stay frozen in my seat. My door is opened for me and his hand grabs mine, pulling me quickly out of the vehicle. “Is it really?” The man could be lying just to get his multiple orgasms.
He reaches in his back pocket, pulls out his wallet and hands it to me. I flip it open and stare at his license, which of course contains a picture of him looking annoyingly good. Who the hell takes a good driver’s license photo? Focusing on his birthday, I confirm what he has just revealed to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, handing him back his wallet as we walk into his building. His hand rests on my lower back as he walks me toward the elevators, nodding politely at the people we pass.
“I just did,” he replies, pulling me into the elevators and pressing the tenth floor button. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body against his as we ride up to his floor. His scent fills my lungs and I swoon.
“But you should have told me sooner. I would have made you a cake. It’s what I do, you know.”
His hands grip my waist as he presses quick kisses into my hair. “Well, you can make me a cake now.” The doors open and he quickly pulls me with him down the hallway and into his condo. Jeez, is he in a rush?
Flipping on the lights, I follow behind him as he sets his keys down on the counter and walks into the kitchen. I slip out of my heels, set my purse down, and begin rummaging through his cabinets, praying for ingredients.
“Do you have any flour?” I ask as he closes the fridge and hops up onto the counter. Unscrewing the cap, he takes a sip of his water and looks to be in deep thought, his eyes staring at the cabinets. “You’re in my spot,” I say as I watch him with amusement.
“Umm, no. I don’t think I have any flour. And yes, I am in your spot. But it’s my birthday, so I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He smirks at me and I give it right back to him, turning and glancing up on a high shelf.
“Can you reach me the Bisquick please?” I ask as I open the fridge and pull out the eggs. He hands it to me with a kiss and hops back up.
“Are you making me birthday pancakes?”
I pull out a bowl and grab a fork. “Nope, I’m making you my four ingredient banana cake that I used to whip up in college. Juls and I roomed together and I would create desserts out of whatever crap we had lying around. Bisquick was always on hand because she’s a breakfast junkie.” I grab the sugar bowl and set the oven temperature. “You’ve given me little choice here. I’d be set if I wanted to make you a cake made out of ramen noodles and chunky soup.” He watches me intently as I mash up the banana and begin mixing the ingredients together in the bowl, occasionally glancing up and seeing him studying me. He always seems so fascinated by whatever it is I’m doing, and I wonder if he looks at every girl like this. Ugh. The thought makes me whip the eggs viciously.
“So you’re thirty-two today,” I state, sucking the batter that has splashed up onto my knuckle off with a soft moan.
“I am.” My eyes go to his and he winks. “I’m six years older than you now. Does that bother you?”
His question baffles me, so I decide to really give it some thought. Our age difference doesn’t bother me at all. If he was ten years older than me, I wouldn’t care. Scrunching up my face and thinking hard, I see his grin widen as he waits for me, a soft breathy laugh escaping him. I shake my head. “Nah, but that’s mainly because you act half your age.” His eyebrow arches. “Besides, I have a thing for older men.” Tipping the bowl, I pour the cake batter into his one and only baking dish and shuffle it to even out the distribution.
He hops down and comes up behind me, his hands spreading across my stomach. “Do you? I had no idea,” he says as he pulls my hair over one shoulder and kisses down my neck. I close my eyes and grip the baking dish tightly. Lord, this man knows how to wind me up in no time.
“Well, I have a thing for you,” he growls into my ear, his hands sliding up the front of my dress and molding to my breasts. My head falls back against his shoulder and I groan. “I need to put this in the oven.” He grumbles in protest but finally steps back, allowing me to place the dish into the oven and set the timer.
“Okay, birthday boy, you’ve got twelve minutes to play with me until it’s ready.” I turn to see his wicked grin and he wastes little time, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the living room. Stopping in front of the couch, he pulls me into his arms and runs his hands up my spine as his face drops to bring our lips together. He opens my mouth with his and snakes his tongue around mine, coaxing me to move with him and I obey. My hands fumble with his tie, loosening it and dropping it to the floor as his mouth assaults mine, teasing and tasting every inch of me. I feel his arm muscles flex around me and then the sound of a loud rip comes from behind me as the fabric of my dress is torn from my body.
“Did you just… I can’t believe you just did that.” I spin around quickly and step back and out of his arms, seeing the handful of material clutched between both fists before he drops it at his feet. Are you fucking serious? “Dick. Do you have any idea how much that dress cost me?” I step into him and deliver a sharp poke to his chest with my finger. Yeah. That’ll show him.
He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at me. “If you say more than five dollars, you got ripped off. That thing was the size of a handkerchief.” His arms wrap me up and he tosses me onto the couch like I’m some sort of rag doll. I yelp in protest as the cold leather hits my skin, but am only momentarily chilled before his body is pressing against mine, warming me instantly.
“You are ridiculous. What the hell am I supposed to wear now when I leave?” I grumble between kisses. His mouth meets mine the moment he relaxes down on me. I moan as his tongue dips into my mouth, delivering long strokes against mine and filling me with his minty flavor. “Fuck, I’m so mad at you.” I grunt as he laughs against me, moving his lips down my neck and licking a trail to the top of my breasts. Stay mad, Dylan. Don’t give in. Don’t lose it. That was a two hundred and fifty dollar dress.
“I love it when you’re mad at me. You’re so fucking sexy; I can barely contain myself here.” He molds his hands over my breasts and pulls my bra down, slipping a nipple into his mouth as I grab his head. “Mmmm, these are always on my mind. So fucking beautiful.” He licks and sucks me, drawing loud moans from my mouth. Brushing his nose against the mark next to my left nipple, which is slightly faded, he sucks on the small patch of skin. My hands grip his hair and hold him against me. I hate that his marks are fading on me and am more than happy to let him bring them back out. Moving to my other breast, he freshens the mark there and then plants a soft kiss to it before he glances up at me. His smirk makes me grunt.
“You’re an asshole,” I groan as he moves lower, licking and nibbling at my stomach. Wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, I push him up and grip his dress shirt with both hands tightly before I rip it apart, tiny buttons flying out in every direction. My hands push it off his big shoulders and down his arms, pulling his T-shirt quickly over his head.
“Impatient much? We have all night, love,” he says as he works his belt, sitting back between my legs.
“You started it.” All night? My hands stretch out and rub his ripped chest, brushing down his stomach along the tight muscles. God, I love touching this man. My index finger plays in the patch of hair that runs below his belly button. “What do you want for your birthday?”
He reaches into his pants, pulls himself out and leans forward, rubbing himself along the length of my wet panties. I groan and dig my nails into his back. Wasn’t I mad about something? “You in my bed,” he says against my mouth. Our lips are close, our heavy breathing mixing together and I tremble against him, his words bringing out my fears. “Nothing has to change. This is still just sex. I just need to have you in there.”
Seconds, minutes go by and he stills against me, waiting for my response. I don’t know what to do. I want to do this for him, for me, more than anything. Being in his bed, surrounded by his smell and imagining what it would be like to stay there with him is a thought that is constantly running through my mind. But can I do this? He said nothing has to change, but can I keep it from changing for me? I think long and hard and make my decision. Yes, I can. Because this is worth it. He is worth it. I close my eyes tightly and nod, hearing a small sound escape him and I’m quickly lifted to my feet. We round the couch together when the oven alarms, causing me to dash in and pull the cake out.
“Jesus, you should only be allowed to wear that in my kitchen,” he says as I insert a knife quickly into the top and pull it out clean. Glancing down at my attire, I smile at him as I meet him in the dining room where he stands waiting for me. My hand is placed in his as he leads me down the hallway and opens the last door on the left. Stepping aside for me, I walk ahead of him and take in my surroundings.
His bedroom is big and spacious, containing a large four-poster bed with one nightstand on each side, a tall dresser and a chair in the corner next to a small bookshelf. I scurry over to it and glance at his reading material, all educational and way the hell out of my depth. “Wow, you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.” Pulling out a massive textbook with the words Corporate Accounting on the front, I sit in the chair and flip through it, feeling his eyes on me as he moves into the room. The sound of his clothing removal catches my attention and I glance up at him from under my lashes. He is now standing completely naked and staring at me, holding out his hand and arching his brow.
“I’m reading,” I mutter through a grin and am quickly yanked from my chair, book crashing to the floor in the process as he lifts me up and tosses me on the bed. The smell of him hits me like a truck and I whimper. Crap, this is going to wreck me. Wrapping his hand around the back of me, I am moved up the bed so my head is resting on his pillow, his body settling between my legs. I watch intently as he slides my panties down and tosses them, leaving my garter on and tracing the clips with his fingers.
“So fucking sexy,” he says against my thigh, kissing the skin along my garter. “You’re so soft, love, and you always shake when I’m right here.” His lips brush against the skin of my inner thigh and I gasp, trembling on cue. “I love how I do that to you.”
I quickly remove my bra and reach out for him. “Come here. I need you.” I grip his shoulders and pull him up as he shifts above me, pushing straight into me in one quick motion.
“I’ve dreamed of this. You, in my bed. Fuck, Dylan.” His words ring through my ears as he strokes me with long slow movements. Pulling almost all the way out before he glides back in. My legs tighten around him and I pull his mouth to mine, needing his kiss, needing his breath on me and in me.
“Me, too. Oh, God.”
He groans loudly and I pull his lip into my mouth, dragging my teeth along his skin. My hands are brought over my head and held above me with one of his. His eyes burn into mine with such raw emotion that it rips through me, crippling me. I turn my head to break the contact.
“Look at me,” he grunts, his hips thrusting hard and fast, slamming against mine and pushing me up into the headboard. His grip around my wrist tightens and I arch off the bed, pushing my chest against his. “Dylan, I need to see you.” I turn back to him, giving him what he wants and letting myself feel it. Heat spreads across my skin, radiating from deep within me as his free hand holds the side of my face. “Don’t pull away from me,” he pleads, but even if he hadn’t said the words, his eyes are telling me the same thing. They show every emotion, every unspoken thought. I am completely lost in his green stare, completely lost in him. Everything about him holds on to me, keeping me right with him in this moment and there isn’t a single part of me that wants to pull away, that will ever want to pull away. I can do this. I’m strong enough for this.
My body is quickly on the brink, undeniably responsive to his and I want him there with me. I pull my lip into my mouth and clench around him, seeing his eyes widen and halting his thrusts.
“Holy fuck.” His eyes clamp shut and I do it again, contracting my muscles and feeling him react with a jerk. “Jesus Christ. Love, if you keep doing that...” And I do. I do it again, this time holding it, and his eyes open and lock onto mine.
I clench around him once more and he grunts loudly before he starts to move. I moan and bring my hips up to meet his charges, giving him deeper entry and pulling a low groan straight out of him.
“Come with me, love.” His mouth comes down and devours mine, pulling my tongue into his and sucking hard and deep. I come fast, my body shaking and pulsing, my screams swallowed by his mouth as he gives me his release. Warmth runs through me, clinging to me, to us. Our bodies fit perfectly together and I pray he’ll never get tired of me, of this. Because I never will.
Our breathing steadies as he stays on top of me, pressing my body into his mattress. He’s heavy, but not uncomfortable and I find the weight to be the perfect amount of pressure against my body. My fingers trail lightly along his back as his hot breath bursts across my neck. My touch deepens and I rub his hard muscles, working up to his neck and firmly digging in. I giggle at his tiny moans of pleasure. He loves it when I touch him, and right now, that’s what I want to do. I wiggle underneath him and his gorgeous face turns up to gaze at me.
“Let me up. I want to give you a birthday massage.”
He quickly and with great enthusiasm pushes himself back onto his knees and allows me to move around him. Grabbing a few tissues off his nightstand, I’m wiped clean of his release and the trash is quickly discarded. As he settles back down on his stomach, I straddle his waist and admire the view. He has the sexiest back I’ve ever seen, broad and built, but not overly muscular. I hate big bulky guys, and Reese has the perfect muscle to leanness ratio. After giving one quick smack to his perfectly sculpted ass, I begin rubbing up and down his back, gauging his reaction to find the amount of pressure he wants. A few soft moans indicate I’m pressing him just how he likes, and I move to his shoulders and start working him.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I say, wanting to find out every little detail I can. Reese seems really open after sex and I’m going to use that to my advantage.
He moans, “Mmmm, I hate cats.” His muffled answer makes me belt out a laugh.
“That does not even count. Come on, Carroll, you can do better than that. I totally hate cats too, though. They’re so smug.” My hands work his upper arms, pushing and pulling his muscles until they loosen. His breathing is peaceful and steady underneath me.
“I don’t know; it’s hard to think when you’re touching me like this. Why don’t you just ask me a question?” He turns his head and rests on his cheek, eyes closed with his long lashes brushing his cheekbone. Jesus, I would kill for lashes like that. Why do guys get the best lashes? “Dylan.”
“I’m thinking.” I have questions, so many questions. But am I brave enough to ask them? I bite my lip and decide to start slow. “Do you hook up with a lot of girls at weddings?” That isn’t too bad. It’s not like I asked him how many girls he’s slept with, which I am very curious about. His eyes open for a moment and then he closes them again.
“I’m not sure what classifies as a lot, but yes, I’ve hooked up with women at weddings before.” He moans as I press my thumbs deeply into his upper back. “I’m sure I wasn’t your first either.”
“Yes, you were,” I blurt out, seeing his eyes pop open again. He blinks rapidly before he flips under me, holding me still so I’m now straddling his stomach. His hands run up my thighs and play with my garter as I begin rubbing his chest. “Well, you were my first slutty wedding sex. I’ve had a few drunken make out sessions at weddings before.” I haven’t, that’s a total lie. I’ve actually never done anything with a stranger at a wedding besides dance with them. But the way Reese is staring up at me right now, eyes full of wonder, I feel the need to not sound like such an angelic virgin hovering over this experienced player. I clear my throat and massage down his arms, seeing his eyes close again and giving me the opportunity to stare while he isn’t watching me. “Have you called other girls ‘love’?”
A small smile forms on his lips as his eyes remain closed. “No, just you.”
I feel my heart swell. Hmm, I like that. “Were there a lot of girls before me?” I speak without thought and clamp my eyes shut, bracing myself for his answer. The same image runs through my mind of the hundreds of girls in his office and I pray for a low number. A really low number.
“Dylan, do you really want to go there? Can’t you just ask me what my favorite movie is or some shit?”
I slowly open my eyes and see him staring at me, green eyes blazing. Jesus, is it that big of a number that he doesn’t want to tell me? I think I have the right to know. “You know my number; it’s only fair. Just tell me if it’s in the triple digits or not.” My hands rest on his abdomen and I get a shocked expression.
“Jesus Christ. Triple digits?” He scrubs down his face with both hands. “I don’t know, close to twenty probably. Does it really fucking matter?” His hands return to my thighs and I glare at him.
“Yes, it really fucking matters, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.” Sliding off his body, I kneel next to him on the bed and grab a pillow to cover myself with. He quickly takes it away. “Give me that.”
“No. It’s my birthday and I want to look at you.” He tucks the pillow behind his head. “Now, tell me why it matters?” I shake my head and get off the bed, walking toward the doorway. “Where are you going?”
“To get some cake. It’s not like I can leave or anything. You destroyed my dress and I don’t have a car,” I call out behind me as I walk down the hallway. My mind is racing. Close to twenty? I’ve been with one guy besides him. One. I walk around the couch and pick up his dress shirt, slipping it on and letting it hang open since all the buttons had been ripped off. I bring the collar around my face and inhale deeply. Oh, man. Please let me keep this. I slice two pieces of cake and place them on plates, grabbing some forks and heading back down the hallway. Reese is now sitting up, his back against the headboard and the covers pulled up around his waist
“Wow.” I stop at the end of the bed and stare at him after he speaks, his eyes fixated on my attire. “You look beautiful in my shirt. Keep it.”
I smile and climb up on the bed, handing him his plate. “Here, happy birthday, handsome.” I lean in and give him a quick kiss with his cake, lingering for a few seconds as he moans against my lips.
He smiles at me and takes it, grabbing a huge bite with his fork. “Mmmm, this is really good.” Watching his perfect mouth work the bite, I see his Adam’s apple move as it slides down his throat. “You can make this for me every year.”
My fork hovers in the air as I’m about to take a bite myself. His eyes fix on mine and I quickly look down and pull the bite in. Every year? I moan softly around my bite and relish in the delicious banana flavor. This cake is too easy to taste this good. I watch in amusement as he devours his cake quickly, leaning over and placing his empty plate on the nightstand. The muffled sound of a ringtone rings through the bedroom.
“Shit,” he says as he hangs over the side of the bed and pulls his phone out of his pants. He shakes his head quickly before he answers it, exhaling and leaning back against the headboard.
“Hi, Mom. Thanks. Yeah, I’m good, how are you? How’s Dad?”
Now usually, I would just sit back and enjoy my dessert and not think of anything devious to do in this situation. However, the memory of Reese stealing my cell phone and giving my mother unwarranted information creeps into my mind, along with a brilliant idea. I sit up and lean across him, feeling his eyes on me as I place my plate on the nightstand next to his.
“Oh, yeah? That sounds like him. When’s he trading it in?” Grabbing the sheets with both hands, I yank them down and quickly crawl between his legs, my mouth enveloping his partially erect cock and feeling it come to life immediately. “Shit. Uh, nothing.” I smile around him and grip the base, holding him tightly as I lick up his length. His thighs clench and his free hand fists the sheets. “Mom, can I call you back?” I pull him into my mouth and slide up and down his length, hearing small throaty grunts from above me. “No, I’m just in the middle of something. Oh, fuck.” My hand glides along the wetness and meets my mouth. He pulses against me as I suck him hard, then harder. “I’ll call you back.” The phone is chucked off the bed quickly and his hands grip my hair.
“God, yes. Just like that.”
I groan against him, my free hand reaching under and holding his sac. “Tell me how good it feels,” I say as I lick the tip. My hand pumps him, long even strokes as I glance up at his expression. Eyes dark and powerful, brow creased and jaw clenched.
“So fucking good. Your mouth is incredible.” He jerks and I slip him back into my mouth. His hands grip my head, pulling me up and down at the rhythm he wants, and I let him. It is his birthday after all. His hips thrust up and he fucks my mouth as I tame my gag reflex. He’s so deep in me, hitting the back of my throat and making my eyes water. His soft praises keeps me going even though my jaw is beginning to ache. “Dylan, so good, oh, God, I love your mouth.” I feel a pulse and know he’s close. Increasing the pressure, I suck as hard as I can and cup his balls, feeling them tighten in my hand. He groans loudly and twitches. I squeeze every last drop out of him and swallow, savoring his taste. My eyes flick up as I lick him and see him watching me, always watching me. I’ve missed the look on his face at his release, but the look he’s giving me right now makes up for that loss. He’s in complete wonderment. He brings his hands up and runs both through his hair.
“Damn, that was unreal. Come up here.”
I wipe my lips with the back of my hand and move up his body until I am straddling his waist. “Do you like it when I do that?” My hands rest on his arms and I squeeze them gently.
His laugh warms my face. “Are you kidding? Did I not just come in this pretty little mouth?” His finger runs along my bottom lip and I kiss it lightly. “Do you like doing it?”
I nod quickly and we both laugh. “I love it. I used to hate it, but with you, I love it.” He smiles sweetly and runs his hands down my arms. “Have you always liked eating pussy?”
My question causes him to stumble back a bit and he shakes his head at me, giving me a strange look. “Uh, I’ll always like eating your pussy. Let’s leave it at that.” He narrows his eyes at me, seeing my unsatisfied expression. “Dylan, really?”
“What? I’m just curious. Why do you like mine so much?” I glance up at him from under my lashes and see his eyes trail down to the topic of discussion. “Don’t all women taste the same?”
He licks his lips and smiles, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my grin. I have no idea why I’m so curious about this, but I am. His eyes meet mine and he shakes his head. He trails his finger down my stomach and dips into me. “Yours is the sweetest pussy and the only one I want. I’m a bit obsessed with it.” I moan softly as he moves around before slipping out of me.
“Good,” I state as he pops his finger into his mouth and smiles around it. Good Lord, that’s hot. He engulfs my face in his hands and moves in slowly, planting the sweetest, most gentle kiss he’s ever given me. Pulling back ever so slightly, we study each other. There are no words, just the sound of our breathing as my eyes examine every inch of his face. He looks completely relaxed right now. No furrowed brow, no tension in his jaw. Just slightly parted lips and soft green eyes. My finger runs down the prominent slit in his bottom lip to his chin, feeling soft stubble along his jaw. I sigh. The sight of Reese with a five o’clock shadow would surely cripple me. Trailing his fingers along my skin, he brushes over my eyebrows, down my temples and across my cheekbones.
“What are you thinking right now?” he whispers and I lean in, pressing our foreheads together and closing my eyes. God, what wasn’t I thinking? That I love being with him like this in his bed, that I am so wrapped up in him, and at certain moments, I think it might break me. That I’m scared, terrified, of my feelings for him and his possible lack of feelings for me in the same way. I need to give him an answer so I do.
I open my eyes and connect with his. “That I’m scared I’m going to fuck this up,” I reply, so soft, so low that I think maybe he misses it, until his eyes widen. I swallow and continue. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. I mean, I’ve never done this before.” His hand brushes my hair back. “You make this look so easy, and I just… I feel like I’m struggling.” My voice breaks at the end. I sound weak. Pathetic even. His silence eats away at me so I shift down a bit to lay my head against his chest in my favorite spot, nuzzling his neck. I need his scent right now. I am anything but relaxed after that admission and I know it will soothe me.
“I think you’re amazing,” he pronounces into my hair, his hands wrapping around my waist and holding my body against his. Amazing? At this? Really? I exhale slowly and feel all the tension leave my body. That is all I needed to hear. If he thinks I’m amazing at this, then I must be doing something right. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on his breathing and let his smell wash over me. His hands dip under his dress shirt and stroke my back lovingly, just like he did last week on his couch after our long talk. And once again, there is silence between us. But this kind of silence, the kind where no words are welcome because just being together, holding each other, is better than anything that could possibly be said. This kind of silence is perfect. And then I pass out from my favorite form of intoxication. Reese Carroll.