by Scott, S. L.
Temptress.
I didn’t bother to hide what I know she could feel beneath her when she laid down. The woman turns me on and lying here in a bed with her two inches away isn’t helping my cause. I can be good. We can get to know each other. We should take it slow. How slow? “How slow do you want to take this?” I ask.
She bursts out laughing. “I’m so glad you said it. I’ve been wondering the same thing.” Rolling onto her stomach, she props herself up on her elbows next to me. “I mean kissing can’t hurt anything, right?”
“If there were rules, kissing wouldn’t be breaking them.”
Inching up higher, she says, “Definitely not breaking rules.”
“It’s like first base.” Stopping close enough for me to roll over and kiss her, she smirks. Seductress. So I do as we shift to get more comfortable, which lands her half on top of me. I’m not complaining. Not one bit.
Our mouths are too busy to complain anyway, but my hands. Damn. I want to touch her all over, but I’m a good boy . . . for now. By how she’s kissing me, our lips parting, our tongues caressing, little moans rumbling from deep inside her, she’s eliciting my bad side.
My hand dips into the dramatic curve from her cotton-covered hips to the soft skin of her waist. I want to go higher, but I don’t. I’ll let her guide me, show me what she likes and what she wants. First base, I remind myself despite wanting to steal second.
Her knee presses between my legs, and our bodies start a dance of seduction. The softness of her legs tangling with the roughness of mine—hard and soft mingling.
This is foreign. I’m used to instant gratification, not building anticipation. Making out is not something I usually do, but with her, it feels good. I want to learn every ebb and flow of her body, her likes and dislikes, and to make her feel better than she’s ever felt before.
Don’t get me wrong. I always get my partner off, but it’s going to be so much sweeter with Weatherly. Another one of her little moans encourages me to maneuver on top, kissing her harder, pressing my body to hers, and wanting to swallow every last sound, groan, and kiss she’ll give me.
God, I could survive off the air she shares, her lips the way they mold to mine, and her hands hold me to her—pulling me closer as if that was possible. I come up for air and look into those big blue eyes to find the sky buried inside.
She relaxes beneath me, happiness shaping her face. I push wild strands of hair away from her face and continue to stare at her beauty. She mimics me by pushing my hair away from my eyes. “I told you I came back because you invited me, but that wasn’t the only reason.”
“Why did you come back?” she asks, staring into my eyes.
“I couldn’t stay away.” I could claim my confession was a way to woo her, but it’s also the truth. I’m drawn to this woman. Deep down, my soul twisted the moment I walked out the door. I held the phone in my hand the entire way home, willing it to buzz in my hand. So when it did, I already knew I would return.
I have no regrets that I’m the one she’s tangled up in instead of the sheets.
“Dare?” she whispers, “if those are the kind of lies you tell, I’ll take them any day.”
Emotions run heavy, our sexual tension running hot. I kiss her just because I miss her lips on mine. I miss that little moan and the way her hands feel possessive as she starts to knead my back like a kitten. Fuck me. I’m doing the one thing I said I wouldn’t with her—falling under her spell.
“If we can’t break the rules, then let’s bend them.” A hand slinks under the covers, and she gets a good grab of my ass. I return the favor. And when her knees butterfly open for me . . . it’s more than a spell I’m feeling. I want her. So badly. “I always did hate rules.”
My hips are moving of their own accord, my dick hard and wanting to bust through those little cotton underpants she’s wearing. “Fuck.” I push up and roll to my back annoyed as fuck at myself and cursing this damn taking things slow pact we made.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not used to this.”
Surprise reaches her features. “Making out?”
“Hanging out in a girl’s bed, in this sense, is fairly new for me.”
“So you’ve never had a girlfriend or stayed with a woman overnight?”
Lowering my arm, I drop it to the bed. “I have, but—”
“But?”
“I was going to say, but this is different.”
Smugness creeps onto her face, but I’m happy to let her revel in the compliment. “How so?”
“I want to be here. I want to stay the night.”
Reaching over, she caresses my face with such care as she runs the tips of her fingers from my forehead to my chin. “I’d like that.”
We lie in silence, our gazes locked together as our fingers weave to become one hand. Bonded. Intensity fills the room, leaving no voids between us. She looks away first, and says, “I need water. I’ll be right back.”
While she walks away, I’m given a great view of that peach of an ass. Goddess.
As soon as she’s gone, I swing my feet to the floor and dig my phone from my jeans. I have three text messages: two from chicks wanting to hook up and a third from English telling me to hit it and get back at a decent hour. A spot at the recording studio opened up tomorrow night, so we have to spend the day rehearsing.
She’s not back yet, so I skip the chicks to reply to him.
Me: What time for rehearsal?
English: Ten.
Me: I’ll be there.
Weatherly returns with two bottles in her hands. “Sorry about that. My friends had texted, wondering where I was. Since I didn’t reply earlier, they kept texting. They’re relentless. The only way to get peace was to reply.” She hands me one of the waters.
Wrapping my hand around hers, she grins as her eyes go from the bottle to my eyes. “What’d you tell them?”
I catch her hesitation before she looks away to return to her side of the bed . . . because apparently, we’re already that couple who has sides of the bed. The funny thing is it doesn’t bother me. Do I want to be that couple with her? Do I want to be part of a couple at all?
“That I’m home. Safe and sound.”
“What makes you think you’re so safe?”
When I lie down, she cuddles against me, and I wrap my arm around her. Her head rests on my chest, palm over my racing heart, and with conviction, she replies, “Because I’m with you.”
“And here I thought I was one of the bad guys.”
“Never.”
I hold her a little tighter, liking how her body fits to mine. Liking her so much.
* * *
I wake up to the sun reflecting off the lake. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I check the time. “Shit,” I grumble. Why am I awake at eight a.m.? And why is the sun so fucking bright at this hour? I roll away from the window, dragging the pillow out from under me to cover my head.
Then I see the rose on the other nightstand and bolt upright. Holy shit. I’m at Weatherly’s. But where is she?
I toss the covers off and look toward the bathroom for the sound of life inside. The lights are out in there, so I walk out of the bedroom, but my heart stops as fast as my feet when I do find her.
The T-shirt she wore last night hangs off one shoulder down to her elbow. Her hair is twisted in a messy knot on top of her head. Dark-brown rimmed glasses rest on her nose and a coffee cup in her hand. She sips as she rests her arms on the railing, lost in her thoughts.
The whole world can see her legs and that delicate skin of her shoulder. I’m tempted to cover her up, to bring her inside and make her get dressed, but the vision of her stuns me, rendering me speechless.
She takes another sip before catching me in her periphery. Fucking hell. Her smile beats any sunrise inspiring a new song.
I join her on the balcony, spinning her around so I’m pressed against the railing instead of the whole world getting a front-row view of her fine ass.
“Coffee?” she asks, relaxed in my arms.
“Definitely. I haven’t seen this hour of day in a while.”
“Lucky you. I didn’t want to wake you, but I need to take a shower and get to school.”
“Yeah, I have to get home. We’re rehearsing today and have a studio booked tonight.”
She takes my hand and we go inside. I watch as she pours me a cup of coffee. “Sugar? Creamer?”
“It’s fine without.”
After squeezing between me and the bar, she wraps her arms around my middle. Face-to-face, I kiss her. Weatherly tastes like the best morning I’ve ever had.
She has to go.
I have to go.
I set the mug down on the counter behind her and cup her face. “I wish we could stay.”
Disappointment seeps into her eyes. “I do too.”
“When will I see you again?” Please say tonight.
“I think we’re back to Monday.”
Nodding, I bring her into my arms and hug her. “I guess so.”
With her head resting on my shoulder, she says, “If you want to come over after you leave the studio, you can.”
“I’ll be there until three in the morning.”
“That’s okay. Tomorrow’s Saturday. We can sleep in.”
And just like that, we made a plan.
“I’ll be here.”
Sharing coffee in the morning with a beautiful woman I haven’t fucked. Never had that. Yet she wants me here. I actually slept with a woman. Slept. It’s a lot to think about before my brain is fully functioning, though, but I won’t take the words back.
I’ll be here.
12
Weatherly
Dare is hot!
Like really hot.
I’m burning up, but don’t want to move a muscle. If he keeps sleeping over, I’m going to have to reconsider this down comforter. Although it’s a lighter one, since I live in Texas, it’s too much when I have him to keep me warm.
Two nights in a row have me feeling downright lucky to have this man in my bed. The way we’ve fallen into this habit so easily feels dreamy, feels right.
Should I be concerned that I’m already thinking of we instead of me? Probably, considering Lloyd and I dated, and I use the word dated loosely, for years, and I put him off sexually the entire time.
Things happen for a reason. I saw the signs, but I lost track of the destination. Under pressure to be perfect in school, my appearance, and to stand quietly by my man, I realize now that it wasn’t the destination I lost track of. It was me.
Confidence feels great, just as Dare does. Better than Lloyd ever did.
Looking at the nightstand, I see my phone was blown up overnight with messages. Is it bad that I’ve been avoiding my best friends?
“Are you always this restless on Saturday mornings?” The husky morning voice coats my neck.
I giggle and turn in his arms. “I’d be lying if I said no. I have so much to do before I graduate that I don’t get to sleep in much these days.”
With rough fingers, he pushes away the hair that’s fallen in my face. I don’t have a lick of makeup on, but he looks at me like I’m a beauty queen, which feels liberating. He likes me as I am. I run my fingers over the stubble of his cheek and watch as he licks his lips. “So much is going on in that beautiful brain of yours. What’s on your mind, Pepper?”
“My friends are mad at me.”
“For what?”
“They say I ditched them.”
Cozy morning coffee eyes look surprised. “You didn’t ditch them. From what I remember, they left with that asshole and his friends.”
“I know, but they already seem bothered by me trying new things.”
He smirks. “New things like me.”
With my hands tucked under my cheek, I smile. “I don’t think they like this side of me. I’ve always been Switzerland between them and the peacemaker. It was so easy to let April have her way when I had bigger issues to worry about than where to brunch on Sundays.”
“If it makes a difference, I like this side of you very much.”
Touching his cheek, I say, “Thank you.”
“Your friends will come around. Maybe they just need to get used to the idea that you have someone else taking up your nights lately.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“I can’t give you much, but time is something I will happily spend with you.”
I wish I could slip into sleep again just to make this moment last a little longer. Everything with him seems to be going a different speed. We talk about going slow, but I know it won’t last. My emotions are attaching to him in ways I’ve never experienced before. I don’t want casual when being open and feeling free, which he allows me, is who I’ve always wanted to be.
Is it insane to feel this strong of a connection with someone I barely know? Logically—yes. Emotionally—no. Emotions involve the unspoken, a vibe, a reaction that causes a physical change to occur. That’s Dare. When I took the time to look into his eyes, I felt my insides rearranging in recognition, my heart saying I know you.
It makes no sense, but it’s how I feel when I’m with him. This is new and so good that I now regret wasting time on a man who never made me feel alive like Dare does. “No one has ever slept over.” I make my confession and close my eyes quickly, not sure how he’ll react.
“But he was your boyfriend.” Not a question but a realization.
“I think he was a boy who was a friend, who was not really what a friend should be, much less more than that.”
He blows out a long breath. “I don’t know why I said anything. I don’t want to talk about him, especially when we’re like this.”
I promised him we could sleep in, and since he’s only been here for five hours, he needs the rest. Despite needing to start my day, I like his arms around me too much to change a thing. “Everything else can wait. Get some rest.”
He closes his eyes, and I start mentally ticking through my to-do list for the day. Number one—appreciate the fact that this man holds me like I’m his personal teddy bear. The thought makes me grin.
This is such a contrast to the pride he carries around when he’s on stage. Even here, he doesn’t share much or fill the silence with small talk. He says what he needs and seems to enjoy listening to me. I realize I have a voice in our relationship. Equals. That’s something I’m not used to, but enjoy so much.
* * *
I thought he was fantastic in the evening and nighttime hours, but they hold nothing to seeing him in the morning light. Two hours later, he makes his way into the living room where I finally escaped after another hour of lying with him.
He looks tired, but his eyes still hold the warmth befitting the morning sunshine. I say, “You’re very good looking.”
He chuckles. “Thanks. Fortunately, I look more like my mom’s side of the family than my dad’s.”
“Why fortunately?”
His eyes momentarily close, and he appears to want more sleep by how he rambles to the glass door. There’s no peace in his movements. “That’s heavy for this hour. Coffee?” He starts for the kitchen before I can get up from the table where I was reviewing my exam notes.
“Breakfast?” I ask, leaning against the opposite counter from where he’s pouring his coffee.
He looks back at me, leisurely scanning my body. “Your tits look fantastic in that white tank.” He forgets the coffee and comes to me. Running his fingers under the top of the rolled down boxer shorts I’m wearing. A strip of my stomach is revealed, and he says, “You’re sexy without even trying.”
I’m trying, all right, because his attention is utterly intoxicating. I wrap my arms around his neck and peer up at him. “How was the studio session last night?”
“Not as productive as we’d like, but the album’s coming along.”
“Small progress is still progress.”
“True.” He kisses my temple. “I’m starved.” I feel his cra
ving against my leg. “You said something about breakfast?”
Ah. “Yes. Food. The thing isssssss, I didn’t buy much yesterday. But Austin Java is around the corner, and I could really go for some blueberry pancakes.”
His hand slides over my shoulder as if he just can’t stop himself from touching me. I have the same struggle around him and run my hand over his abs. “You want pancakes. You get pancakes.”
My phone buzzes on the counter behind me. Looking over my shoulder, he says, “If you have other plans today—”
“I don’t. You’re my plan today.” Glancing over my shoulder, I see more messages from April and Stascia. “I should probably send a quick message, though.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” He goes to the balcony and walks the length.
Picking up my phone, I read my messages.
April: Meet for brunch?
Stascia: We miss you.
They both betrayed me the other night when they chose to join Lloyd and his crew over hanging out with me. But it feels good to be missed, and at least Stascia isn’t sweeping it under the rug like nothing happened.
Me: Can’t today, but we can meet this week and do some shopping for the party.
Stascia: I’m in. Just let me know when and where?
Three dots wave on the screen for April and then disappear, causing me a little anxiety. What is she going to say? They appear again and then her message follows.
April: It’s good to hear you’re alive. I’ve already had my dress designed and have a fitting this week. You can shop without me, but I’ll plan a meal and tell you where and when.
Sadly, it’s been the opposite, which speaks volumes. It’s clear she doesn’t care what I’ve been up to but just wants to control our interactions. It’s always been on her terms or nothing. She has to have the last word.
April: I bet you’ve been bored out of your mind without us.
I sneakily watch Dare return to the bedroom and gather his clothes in nothing but sexy boxer briefs. The muscles in his arms flexing together and that ass . . . I bite my lip as I watch him bend over. I could watch him all day and have plenty of material for lonely nights. So it’s easy to let her dig slide right on by because one thing he is not is boring.
