Tracey
Dak keeps stroking my hair and whispering things to soothe me, telling me not to cry. The comfort washing over me from his gentle touch is making me cry even harder. No one has touched me like this for so long. No. Wait. No one has ever touched me like this. It’s strange how comfortable I feel with him in such a short time.
I tried to date once before in the past year. The guy was nice enough, but when he wanted to take things a little further I panicked and told him I couldn’t see him anymore. With Dak, I find every time he touches me, I don’t want to back away. I want to lean into him and let him touch me…everywhere.
The irony hasn’t escaped me. The one person I can trust to get this close to is Dak Andersen. A few days ago I thought I hated him, and now we’ve both trusted each other with things we’ve never told anyone else. Who would have thought I’d be crying in Dak Andersen’s arms and he’d be comforting me? Life is weird and wonderful all at the same time.
“Let’s get this project done.” He gently slides me off his lap and picks up his laptop from behind us on the bed.
“You…you want to do schoolwork? Like now? I thought you…we…”
“You kill me, Bambi. There you go with that dirty little mind of yours again,” he teases.
At first, I’m confused, then I get what he’s doing. He’s easing the somber mood after everything we shared and is trying to relax me, maybe both of us.
“What do you want to do? Strip naked and have your way with me?” He grins.
Uh, yes please.
“I thought you said—”
“Let’s take this slow. One step at a time, okay?” He runs his fingers down my arm and gives me his heart-stopping half grin and dammit, I tremble like he claimed happens whenever he touches me.
Slow? Really?
It’s already been over a year without the warm touch of human hands on me and after the way he touched me last night, I don’t know if I can wait another second.
He toes off his shoes and moves away from me, sliding up on the bed and leaning against the headboard, propping his computer on his knees.
“Oookay then. I guess we’re going to record data. You sure know how to show a girl an exciting evening, Dakota Andersen.” I join him at the head of the bed after pushing off my sneakers and prop my computer on my knees too.
“Be careful what you wish for, baby doll.” He smirks, balances his computer on his knees, and then pulls his shirt up over his head and tosses it onto the floor. “It was kind of wet,” he says without looking at me.
Oh. My. Freaking. Word. Does he expect me to focus on the density of ocean water when all I can think about is the density of his roped abs and…and other dense, hard things?
“I think we should enter the water sample data in first,” he says like he’s read my mind. “What format should we use?”
“Um…I’ve already got a lab spreadsheet set up. We can enter the info on it. It’s more organized.” I boot up my computer and try to get my mind to focus on Marine Bio instead of the Anatomy of Dakota 101.
“Wow. You’ve already got scientific spreadsheets set up? I never had to use them before.”
“Well, I have used them before for graduate research, but you’re just a wittle, bitty boy, so you haven’t needed them, yet.”
Two can play at this game of ignoring the 900-pound should we or shouldn’t we fuck gorilla in the room.
“Real nice, Bambi. You know you’re about two seconds away from being put over my knee for a good spanking, right?” he teases.
“Hmmph. Promises, promises,” I mumble but don’t look at him. Game on. My fingers fly across the keyboard, though I have no idea what the hell I’m typing. I may have entered in data showing the water temperatures around Mount Desert Island match those in Aruba.
I give him a sideways glance and note he’s staring at me now. He leans in and brushes his lips along my neck. Oh God. I close my eyes and will myself not to overreact.
“Where’s the notebook with the water temps at different depths?” I ask, ignoring his kiss. Pushing my computer off my lap, I crawl down the bed to rummage through the notebooks I had taken out of my backpack earlier.
Only when I hear Dak groan do I realize my spandex-covered ass is up in the air right in front of his face. Something hits the floor with a crash and I turn to see him sweeping all the notebooks off the bed.
He grabs my hips and flips me over and then crawls over me like a panther about to claim his prey. I’m trembling so hard with lust, but even more with nerves, I grip the comforter under me to try to hold myself steady.
When I was with Sean, it was like I handed him all the power, all the control over me. When he broke the trust I had in him, it broke something inside of me—the ability to allow myself to be this vulnerable.
Yet here I am, leaving myself susceptible again. “What…what are you doing? I thought you said we had to get the research done.” My voice comes out all squeaky, like a scared little mouse.
Okay so he’s better at this game of cat and mouse then I am.
“Yeah. We need to get it done,” he whispers and licks my neck. My eyelids close and I drop my head back, arching my neck in an inadvertent invitation to his tongue.
“I…I thought you said we should take it s-slow.” He’s barely touched me, but I’m quivering like it’s my first time.
Technically it is my first time with Dak. I’m not counting the sleep-muddled episode which occurred last night. The way he’s consuming me with those scorching eyes, there’s no doubt I’m wide awake right now.
“Oh, we’re going to take it slow. Nice and slow. You tell me if you want me to stop. I’ll only do what you feel comfortable with.” His eyes are filled with more than hungry lust. Along with desire, there’s warmth and concern. I’m overcome with something other than nervousness. Excitement and anticipation.
“So, a year since you’ve had any release. That can’t be healthy. We need to take care of that,” he says against my skin, and resumes trailing kisses down my neck.
“I didn’t…mm…say there…there was no release.”
God. Can we hold the conversation?
“So?” Dak asks as he pulls his head back and looks into my eyes. “What’ya do?”
“Seriously?”
“I’m curious what kind of experience I’m working with here.” He gives me a slight smile, but not his usual sly grin. This time his smile is sweet and matches the concern in his eyes.
“If you must know, I have a very cooperative vibrator.”
“A vibrator. No shit?” The twinkle in his eyes and mischievous grin are back.
“Yes, and I recently gave him the fond name Jackass.” I flutter my lashes and smirk back at him.
“Is that right? I might have to meet my rival and see what he can do.”
Any residual unpleasant thoughts of Sean vanish when Dak slips his hand under my sweater, trailing his fingers up toward my already throbbing breasts. I buck under him at the intimate invasion.
“Is this okay?” His tone becomes apprehensive and his hand stops just under the swell of my breast. “Should I stop?”
“Yes…I mean…yes it’s good. Please don’t stop.” He slides his hand out from under my sweater anyway and pushes up, resting back on his feet, his knees on either side of me.
Damn. Is he afraid to touch me now? I may explode into a million needy pieces if he doesn’t do something right this second. What can I say? After a year, as much as I love my baby pink vibrator, it’s nothing next to all the hot things Dak has going on.
“Lift your head up a little.” I follow his instruction. His hands slide under my sweater again and he pulls the sweater over my head and tosses it on the floor. I’m wearing the same red lace bra he saw me in the first day at the rink. He licks his lips.
Electric heat pulses through me from the craving in his eyes. My senses take over and my hips push up, begging him for what I need. He uses the opportunity to hook his fingers into the waist of my leggings and slide them off me He sits back again and sets me on fire with his heavy-lidded glare.
“Fuck. I haven’t been able to get the sight of you in those little pieces of red lace out of my mind since that day in the locker room. You’re so beautiful. I got hard every time I thought of you standing there in them.”
“You…thought about me?” My voice is so raspy I barely recognize it.
“Oh yeah I thought about you. About kissing you, touching you, tasting you. I can’t get you out of my head,” he whispers and crawls up over me again.
He slides his hand under my back and with what I’m sure is well-practiced dexterity unhooks my bra. “Is this okay?” I nod, because I’m sure at this point I may only babble if I try to speak.
My brain no longer has the ability to form coherent words. I’m on sensory overload. He slips my bra down my arms and pushes it to the side. When I gasp at the cool rush of air across my tightened nipples he bends his head down and presses his lips to mine, moving his tongue into my parted lips. My tongue sweeps over his and his kiss deepens. It becomes hungry, ravenous. I respond with the same greedy exploration of his mouth and tongue.
I love the way Dak kisses, like he can’t get enough of tasting me. Like I’m the only one who can satisfy his need. I’m on fire. I may come before he even touches me again.
Running my hands down his chest, I trace the lines of his toned muscles. When my fingers sweep over his nipples they pucker in response and heat pools at my core. I push my hips up into him. I can feel the hard ridge pressing against my thigh through his jeans. My body is screaming for him to be inside of me, but he continues his slow, sensual exploration. He pulls his mouth from mine and moves his lips down my neck, chest, and stomach, kissing and licking, leaving a trail of goose bumps along my skin as he goes.
“Oh, God. Dakota,” I moan.
“You good?” He tilts his head up, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and concern.
“So good,” I manage to breathe out in a murmur.
“I’m going to kiss and lick and taste every inch of you.” He drops his head and whispers against my skin between the demonstration of those licks and kisses and I lift my head to watch.
Watching him move in a sensual, languid pace down my body may be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen or experienced. “I’m going to worship you with my mouth. Are you okay with that?” He glances up from under his dark lashes.
Oh yeah. I’m so okay with that.
“Completely,” I sigh out and he lets out a throaty chuckle.
When his tongue brushes across my nipple, I drop my head back, consumed by mixed sensations of longing and euphoria.
He sucks on my attentive nipple and I can’t hold back the loud groan escaping my lips. The aching need between my legs throbs. When he moves to my other nipple, giving it equal attention with his mouth and tongue, the sounds of pleasure pushing out of me become even louder.
“Shh, baby. The guys are all home. Use your inside groans,” he whispers and I can feel his smile against my skin. “Mmm, you taste so fucking good. I could swallow you up.”
“Dak. I’m… Dak. I’m going to come.”
“Yeah, you are, baby girl. That’s the idea.” And then he slides my panties off.
“Fuck.” He groans. “I love how wet you get for me.” He bends my legs and brings his head down between my thighs. It only takes one long lick of his tongue down my center and I go off, moaning his name and other ecstatic prayer-like words.
“That’s it, baby. I want to feel you come all over my tongue.” He doesn’t even give me time to come down from the first orgasm before he’s licking, sucking, and talking me into the next one. “Mmm, Bambi. You taste like coconut and oranges, like a tropical dream.”
He uses his tongue and teeth to take turns teasing my clit. I weave my fingers through his long, silky hair and rock into him. I can’t get enough of the way he tastes me, consumes me. And then he sucks on me like a starving man, like he can’t get enough of me either. He slides two fingers inside of me and begins to pump in and out, first at a slow pace and then faster and harder while continuing to lick and suck. The aching pleasure I’m experiencing is almost too much to bear.
I push into him, my rhythm matching the thrust of his fingers. Tipping over the edge, I explode again, and before I come back down I’m detonating for the third time, unable to hold back my scream. I’m confident the rest of the guys in the house won’t believe our Marine Bio research project was this exciting.
My bones are molten putty. The release I experience is unlike anything…there are no words.
“Oh my God, Dak. That was…did you see what happened?”
“Uh, yeah. I was right here.” He chuckles, sitting back on his legs with a pleased grin.
“I mean, I didn’t get all weird while you were doing it and I came two times. I never had multiple orgasms.” I sit up and throw my arms around his neck.
“I’m pretty sure it was three times, and that’s because you’ve never been with the right guy, baby girl.” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around me.
When I gaze down to admire his magic lips, he wipes his fingers across his mouth and licks them. He. Licks. His. Fingers. Just like he did with his ice cream last night, like he’s trying to get every last drop of me.
“Mmmm, Bambi. I could spend the rest of my life without any other nourishment but going down on you. You taste so delicious.”
Oh. My. God. I’m getting all hot and bothered again from his words and the way he’s worshiping me with his eyes. He pushes me back, crawls over me again, and brushes his lips along mine with a tender kiss. I can taste myself on his lips and it’s so hot.
“I want you,” I purr and reach toward the thick bulge still confined within his jeans.
“I love that you want me and you’ve got me baby, but it’s getting late and we’re scheduled to be at the rink at five.” Without another word, he rolls off me and moves off the bed. I’m overwhelmed by an immediate sense of loss. “Let’s record this freaking data and then I’ll walk you home so you can get some sleep.”
“You want me to leave? But you haven’t…you’re still…” I reach out toward his erection, which is clearly straining inside his jeans.
“No, I don’t want you to leave, but one step at a time, remember? I want you to be sure of what you’re doing.”
Ugh. He’s so frustrating. Couldn’t he tell how sure I was, how much I wanted him?
“And we’ve got an early start,” he adds, with more exasperating words.
His cell phone pings and vibrates on his nightstand with an incoming notification. A few seconds later the muffled sound of a bird chirping comes from inside my backpack as my phone notifies me of my own incoming message. He picks up his phone, swipes his finger across the screen a couple of times, and his face lights up with a huge ear-to-ear smile.
“What’s up?” I ask and roll on to my stomach to reach for my backpack on the floor next to the bed. Dak groans again behind me and when I look back at him, he’s staring at my bare ass.
“You’re killing me, Bambi. Did I ever tell you how much I love your ass?”
“Really?” I twist around like I need to get a good look at the ass in question. “It’s a skater’s ass,” I offer, like it’s perfectly normal to be discussing my bare ass.
“Yeah. Trace Hayward’s skater ass.” He teases while ogling my ass. “‘And all I can say is thank you to whoever it was invented the sport of figure skating. It’s the perfect little round apple bottom.”
“Apple bottom.” I giggle. “Between the coconut, oranges, and now apples, I guess I’m like a fruit salad, huh?”
“Yeah. And I intend on pursuing a steady diet of fruit.”
He does?
I thought he was only supposed to be helping me get past my anxiety of being touched by a guy. We accomplished our mission. But I’m more than okay with the idea of pursuing further treatment sessions with him.
He bends over me and licks and then nibbles on my available rear end. I moan as he licks places on my body that have never been licked before. How is it possible? In a few weeks I went from not wanting to be touched intimately by a guy, to not wanting Dak to ever stop touching me. But he does stop, stands up again and moves around the bed to retrieve the laptop he had pushed onto the floor. Hopefully the rugged armor case he has on it did its job.
He blows out a big breath. “You need to put some clothes on or I may never do any kind of schoolwork again.”
“I don’t know. You seem to be showing some pretty phenomenal restraint at the moment.”
I can’t help noticing the huge bulge in his pants pushing against his zipper.
“I’m good.” He adjusts his pants and smiles, even though it has to be so uncomfortable. I don’t know how guys do it with those things between their legs. I sit up and look around the room to see where my clothes ended up. He opens a drawer and tosses me one of his hockey t-shirts.
“Here you go. Slip this on.”
“Shouldn’t I get dressed? You said yourself it’s getting late. We can finish the report tomorrow night.”
“We’ve got all night. You should stay over and we can get it done tonight.”
“All night? What are you talking about? We’re scheduled at the rink at the ungodly hour of five a.m. Did you forget?” I ask while slipping his shirt on, since I can’t locate my sweater.
“That message was from the university alert system. They haven’t gotten all the electricity back online. Classes are cancelled tomorrow. That means public skating sessions will be cancelled too. We can go to the rink later than five.”
“Will there be ice if there’s no electricity?”
“They keep the backup generator running at the rink at all times. But they’ll cancel all the sessions except for hockey practice. It’s happened before. It’s how they preserve the ice conditions. Good news, right? We can get things done tonight and sleep in a little later.”
Hmmm. Get things done tonight.
“Yeah that’s great, but we may not need the ice tomorrow anyway. We should start practicing some of the lifts and jumps off-ice.”
“No problem. The dance rooms at the rink will be empty any time we want to use them. So you want to stay over and get this research project out of the way?”
“Sure.”
But what I actually want to do is him.