TWENTY-EIGHT

Mel

The rings of the heavy drapes make a scrape as they drag across the rail. Dog opens them wide, letting the pale moonlight spill in as I sit on my heels in the center of his bed. He turns to me with a smile, and utters, “All the better to see you with, my darlin’.”

I can’t help but chuckle. His use of humor to ease my nerves is appreciated.

It resonates with me, just how much I obviously care about him if I’m this worried I won’t live up to expectations. He holds an air of confidence about him, sexually, that I can’t match. Sure, I’m not stupid. I know I’m pretty, that my mom gave me her stunning looks, but what does a pretty face matter if you can’t match that with stamina?

What if the things I think are amazing between the sheets are boring for him? What if I do something wrong? Oh my God, I need to stop. I’m working myself into a frenzy and he hasn’t even stripped his jeans off yet.

“What you thinkin’?” Dog sets a knee on the bed, slowly crawling toward me.

I reach out and run my fingertips over the gentle swell of his chest as he mirrors my position. “Nothing much.”

“Bullshit.” The heel of his hand presses into my throat as he grips my jaw. “This face don’t lie, baby. Tell me the truth.”

I swallow, feeling it press against the restriction of his hand. “I feel like I’m a teenage novice all over again.”

He drops his hand from my jaw, placing both his palms on my hips instead. “You think I’m not worried?”

“You?” I scoff. “Whatever.”

Dog shakes his head. “Fuck, Mel. This has been years in the makin’. Easy to brush it off and not give a shit what happens when you don’t care, but with you …” He trails off as he lifts a hand to pull the tie around my ponytail out.

My hair falls about my shoulders, a section sliding into my face. He gently tucks it behind my ear, the care and reverence in his touch bringing tears to the back of my eyes. I lick my lips, running my teeth over the bottom one to try and distract myself from the intensity of it all.

“Do that again,” Dog rasps.

“What?” I frown.

“That thing with your lips.”

I repeat the action, wetting them with the tip of my tongue, and then running my top teeth over my bottom lip, pinching the flesh hard before letting it go.

His eyes burn bright, watching the movements with such intensity he even frowns a little. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“I’m just biting my lip.”

He shakes his head, eyes wide. “It’s what those lips could do that makes me hard.” He lifts a hand, gently running his index finger over the curve of my bottom one. “You women don’t know how sexy your fuckin’ mouths can be, huh?”

I don’t get it really, but hey, I get worked up by the angle of his jaw, so I guess it holds some truth to it.

I make a show out of sighing and rubbing my lips together. His reaction is priceless: narrowed eyes, firm jaw, and the roll of his hips as he shifts in his seat to accommodate the growing erection in his jeans.

His lust sets my inhibitions aside.

Dog places both hands at the hem of my tank and eases the fabric up over my body. I lift my arms to help him as he peels it off over my head and tosses it aside. I’d already taken my bra off.

“Goddamn, baby.” He sweeps his hands around my ribs, settling them under the swell of my breasts and teases the pert nipple with his thumbs. “Beautiful.”

I return the favor, reaching out to run my hands over his bare torso. His flesh is still cool from the night air, yet definite warmth burns beneath the cool exterior. I trace every dip and curve, unintentionally biting my lip again as I settle my hands over the strong muscles in his neck.

Dog leans forward, his own hands on my shoulders as he guides me toward him. The softness in his touch as he places his lips on mine, the calm and unhurried movements he makes—I feel appreciated. As though the connection means more than the outcome.

I feel as though he appreciates every second of the memory, rather than the thought of the future.

I love him for it.

“Dog,” I whisper, breaking from his soul-stealing kiss.

“Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, resting his forehead to mine.

“I’m feeling hungry.”

Dog hisses between his teeth as I place a hand on his chest and push him back so he sits on his heels. He watches me with what seems like disbelief as I shuffle back on my knees, and lean down to unlatch his belt. The leather strap rests on his hips as I pop the dome, and ease the zipper down, my heart racing as much as his probably does in this moment.

“You sure, baby?” he asks as I tuck my fingers inside the waistband of his boxers, and pull the fabric out and over his stiff length.

I peer up at him from under my lashes and nod. He groans as I take his cock in my hand, and give a single, firm stroke. Dog braces both hands on the bed and rocks further back on his heels. A bead of precum glistens at the tip, and I swipe it with the pad of my thumb. He jerks his hips, the sound of his breath hitching in his throat all I need to give me the last confidence boost. I wrap my lips around the thick length and take him as far into my mouth as I can.

He’s fucking hung.

Yet that’s not what causes my tears as I take him to the back of my throat over and over again, my hand pumping and twisting, squeezing and pulsing. My hair falls around my face, hiding my conflict from Dog as I work him to the edge. His legs tense, his hands on my shoulders as he grips me painfully tight.

“Fuck, Mel. I’m close,” he warns, pulling away slightly. “Spit or swallow, babe. You better make up your mind now.”

I can’t talk, can’t even fathom saying a thing as my chest constricts with the effort I place on myself to hold it together long enough to give him what he deserves. It’s not his fault I’m clearly still an emotional wreck, so terrified of screwing things up with him, that I’ll lose him after we’ve got to this point.

I don’t want to be that girl—the ones I saw watch him from across the room after he’d tossed them aside the week before, sad and clearly trying to work out why they weren’t enough. I want to believe that the things he’s said, the time we’ve spent together meant something.

That I am enough.

I want reassurance that what we’re doing here, right now, isn’t the result of us both being so caught up in the drama that’s been the past week and a bit. If all this is, is a high, set to crash, then damn, I don’t want it to end.

“Babe?” He pushes hard against my shoulders, shoving me away from the task at hand. “Hey.”

I push his hand away as he tries to stroke the hair from my face and then reach for the sheets to cover myself.

“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on, Mel.”

He seems … panicked. And I suppose it makes sense for him to be. Ask King, even Hooch, and I’m some fucking royalty that needs to be treated with care. Why though? I’ve got nothing going for me other than my name.

I’m just a girl. A sad and lost girl looking for a man to love her as she is, not because of who she is.

Dog takes my silence in stride and gently helps me untangle the edge of the sheet so I can pull it up to my chest. The simple, caring gesture causes a deep desire to scream to build within me, the restrained urge making my hands shake. Why does he have to keep being so sweet, over and over?

“You’re supposed to be a jerk, Dog,” I snap. “You’re supposed to be an ignorant asshole so it’s easy for me to want to stay away from you.”

The fucker smirks at me, still reclined on his heels in his full semi-nude glory. Bastard.

“You’re a right fuckin’ mess, ain’t you,” he says with a chuckle. No ounce of resentment, no malice, just an entertained observation.

As angry as I am at everything, I can’t help but smile as he tucks his cock away with a disappointed grimace. I am a fucking mess. A complete tangle of emotions.

“I’m sorry.”

He lifts his head to look at me as though asking why.

I point to the tent in his undone jeans.

He shakes his head with a smile and crawls up the bed to settle behind me, his legs kicked out either side of me. “Not the first time I’ve been left with blue balls.”

“Really?”

He tugs me back into his hold. “You think I would have learned not to try and fuck ’em when they’d had too much to drink, huh.”

That trespassing sense of jealousy returns as I arrange the sheet over myself again. “You’d think.”

“Want to tell me why you were suckin’ my cock if you didn’t want to?”

God. Hearing him say it out loud like that really does make me sound like a head case.

“I did want to at the start. I just … I don’t know, I overthought things, and then I didn’t want to stop because you’d earned it.” I scoot down to rest the back of my head against his chest, sheet clutched under my chin.

He leans forward, staring down at me from overhead. “You listen up good, Mel, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.” Dog runs a finger along my jaw, a thumb over my lips. “You never owe a man anythin’, got it? If you don’t want to do it—don’t. And if a man ever makes you feel bad for that” —he shakes his head and sighs— “well he ain’t much of a man, then, is he?”

“But—”

“Nothing,” he says pressing a finger to my lips. “It was my choice to do everything I have for you.” He holds my gaze with such intensity I shrink into the sheet a little more. “I wanted to help you, so I did. I wanted to taste you on that roadside, so I did. I wanted to find you just now and make sure you were okay, so I did. I never did any of it thinkin’ it was a sure-fire way to get you to give me somethin’ sexual in return. I don’t operate like that. Got it?”

I nod, the sheet over my mouth and nose now.

He leans back against the head of the bed again, scooting me higher so my head is tucked against his shoulder. I close my eyes as he places a gentle kiss to my temple, his hands resting against my stomach, pinning the sheet to me with his arms.

“What were you thinkin’ about to make you cry?”

“I’d rather not say.” Not because I’m ashamed of it, or because I think he wouldn’t care. But because I feel as though if I give voice to my fears they’ll come true. I don’t want to jinx what we have, even if it does have a broken wing and struggles to get off the ground.

Once we work through the growing pains, I’m certain it’ll fly as colorful and spectacular as ever.

“You cause me no end of worry,” Dog murmurs, his lips pressed against the top of my head. “But I wouldn’t take you any other way.” He reaches for a pillow and shoves it behind his head. “Now go to sleep, baby, right where you are.”