by Nashoda Rose
“Yeah.” I thought I was strong, but recently I felt like a piece of tissue paper.
“He won’t get near you again, Eva.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. But it was hard to believe him when the police told me that, too. When the restraining order did nothing to keep him from nearly killing me.
I shifted on to my back and tilted my head so I could see him. He was up on his elbow leaning over me, his fingers gently playing with strands of my hair.
“Thanks for picking out the fridge with me. And an oven.”
The corners of his lips tugged upward, and I felt the tension in his body ease. “You’re welcome.”
The arm slung over my waist moved and his palm slid across my belly, one fingertip grazing my bare skin because my camisole had lifted when I flipped onto my back.
My lips parted as desire spread across my skin like a speckling of embers. “And also having a beer with my dad. That was nice, too. You didn’t have to do either of those things.”
His hand stopped playing with my hair and his brows lowered. “The fridge was important, and if I didn’t want to drink a beer and shoot the shit with your dad, I wouldn’t have. I didn’t do it to be nice, Eva. I don’t work that way. I did it because I wanted to.”
Velvet daisy petals lifted in my belly and twirled. “Oh.”
God, I liked this guy. I didn’t want to like him as much as I did, but I couldn’t stop it, especially when he said stuff like that. Maybe I’d managed to snuff it out temporarily by the morning-after incident, but the embers still burned, and they were burning hotter.
His fingers slid under the edge of my camisole and lightly traced across my belly.
My breath locked in my throat and goosebumps rose.
I swallowed, unable to move or look away from his heated eyes. There was no question I wanted him. My body screamed for him, even when my mind fought the idea.
But I didn’t want to fight whatever this was. Not tonight.
His palm flattened on my belly, only his thumb slowly rubbing back and forth. “Go to sleep, Eva.”
“I’m not tired.” I ran my tongue over my lower lip and his eyes flicked to my mouth.
He stilled. Fingers in my hair motionless. But his eyes weren’t. Even in the dark, I saw his sun-streaked, ocean eyes swirl and intensify with a kaleidoscope of colors.
My heart skipped a beat.
Deaglan was like jumping off a cliff. Knowing the end was going to hurt, but leaping anyway because everything before the landing was worth it.
With his eyes locked on me, his palm slid up under my camisole where his fingers traced underneath one breast and then the other. “You thinking about my cock inside you or my mouth on your pussy?”
Jesus. “Yeah,” I managed to whisper.
“Yeah, what?”
“Yeah to both.”
“Fuck,” he muttered as he leaned over me, his mouth a breath away from mine.
Deaglan Kane was on his way to being way more, and I didn’t know what to do about that yet, it didn’t matter. Not tonight.
I chewed my lip, half-smiling. “You’re breaking your rule.”
“Baby, I broke every fuckin’ rule in my book the second I walked up to you. Did it anyway.”
My heart lodged in my throat and feathered quivers tickled my skin.
“Every rule, Eva.”
He lowered and his mouth crushed mine. My belly twirled with a rabble of butterflies in a heated coil.
Rough. Penetrating. Consuming.
It was Curran being wiped away.
It was leaping off that cliff.
It was falling with your arms out into a bed of dandelion puffs.
His groan vibrated against my lips.
“Fuck, baby. I can’t stop wanting you,” he said as he trailed kisses down my neck.
He pinched my nipple and I gasped, arching my back. He soothed the pain with a soft touch before he flicked it with his thumb then did the same to the other nipple.
He shoved down the duvet that separated us, then kicked it aside with his feet. I reached up and slid my hand up his chest to the back of his neck and tried to drag him down to me. But he resisted.
“Top, baby,” he murmured as he lifted my camisole.
I ducked my head so he could pull it off. He tossed it to the end of the bed before his hand ran between my breasts, down my belly, to the drawstring of my pajama pants.
He slowly pulled the string, his eyes locked with mine. I felt the bow release and the band around my waist loosen.
With his palm flat, he skimmed his hand into my pants and my breath hitched. “Open your legs.”
“I want you naked,” I said.
“You’ll get that. But not yet. Open, baby.”
I parted my thighs and closed my eyes, arching my neck as the heat of his hand cupped me between the legs.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re soaked.”
If there was a word for more than soaked, I was pretty sure that’s what I was because my body was so spun in a tornado of desire that I could barely contain myself.
He shifted to lean over me while his fingers played and teased.
His mouth was an inch from mine, but he hesitated, and I held my breath, waiting for him to kiss me. Instead, he lowered and nibbled my neck, his scruff rubbing against my skin like sandpaper and sending tingles shooting through me.
His fingers circled my entrance, before moving away, only to do it again. And again. And again.
“Deaglan. Please,” I begged as his fingers tormented me. He drew my nipple into his mouth then flicked it with his tongue.
Then he slid lower, a trail of kisses following.
His hands curled around the band of my pajamas, and he tugged as I lifted my butt.
Those were tossed aside, too, although I didn’t know where because all I could think about was his mouth on me.
“Bend your knees for me,” he said in a deep, raspy voice.
I did.
His hands on my thighs, he eased them open wider and settled between them. I reached for him, my fingers weaving into his strands of hair and tightening the second I felt his mouth between my legs.
“Oh my God,” I said between ragged breaths, my head sinking into the pillow as I closed my eyes and my other hand curled into the bed sheet.
He sucked. He played. His tongue danced and he rubbed his harsh stubble over the most sensitive spots.
I writhed and panted.
“Easy,” he purred. “Not yet.”
He parted my lips and sucked deeper.
“Deaglan. I can’t.”
His head lifted, but he didn’t stop touching me as he pushed two fingers inside me and I gasped. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. If I could fuckin’ keep you like this, on edge and panting with my fingers inside you, I would.”
I shook my head, biting my lower lip while I tugged on his hair. “I need to come.”
He slowly pulled his fingers out of me; they glistened with wetness. He placed them to my mouth. “Open,” he urged.
I opened and tasted myself on his fingers as I sucked.
“Jesus.” He growled as he watched me, eyes raging with desire.
Seeing the undeniable raw hunger on his face, rose a greater urgency in my core.
God, I wanted the weight of his body on top of me, the fullness of his cock pushing deep inside me.
“Deaglan, I want you naked.” I pulled at his shirt. He ducked his head and I yanked it off. My hands slid over his shoulders and down his arms, the heat of his skin against mine sending new waves of desire through me.
He grabbed my hips as he stared at me. “Tonight is only about you. I’m erasing bad fuckin’ dreams, Eva.”
My belly flipped and I nodded. “Okay.”
His head dipped between my legs again.
And when I screamed his name, body shuddering against his mouth, I knew Deaglan was capable of erasing more than just the bad dreams from tonight, but the bad dreams from always.
I had to pee and Deaglan had me trapped. One thigh was slung over mine, and his tattooed arm was locked across my chest. His front was to my back with his chin perched on my head, so every time he exhaled, my hair rustled.
And despite wanting to stay snuggled in his arms, my bladder was having none of it.
“Deaglan?” I whispered, my hand rubbing up and down his forearm that lightly pressed against my breasts. “Deaglan?” I wiggled to try and escape and he groaned.
“Babe,” he rasped, his leg clamping down on me.
“Deaglan!” I trashed the idea of waking him quietly. “I have to get up.”
A subtle snort as he jerked awake. “Eva? You good?” he said in a sexy, sleepy voice that made me want to turn over and kiss him.
Unfortunately, there was no time for that. “Well, sort of. I have to pee,” I said.
“Okay, go pee, babe,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
“Your leg?” I wiggled again to try and get from under it.
He lifted his leg and I scrambled out from under him as he chuckled. “Not funny,” I said, and leapt out of bed.
When I came back, Deaglan looked like he was asleep again, so I sat on the edge of the bed and checked my phone. It was seven-twelve and I’d slept through the rest of the night, a good six or so hours. I scrolled through my e-mails, one from the bank, five spams, two book club notices, and one from my mom complaining I hadn’t called her. Shit. I hadn’t talked to her in three days.
I began to type a quick message back that I’d call her tonight when an arm hooked my waist and yanked me back.
My phone landed somewhere on the bed and my body landed on my back with Deaglan straddling me, and his hands locking my arms to the mattress on either side of my head.
His gaze roamed over my face and settled on my parted lips. “Jesus,” he murmured just before his mouth took mine.
It wasn’t soft and gentle; this was crushing and bruising.
Raw. Carnal. Starved.
He held me pinned beneath him, and I wanted more of him. I craved all of him.
God, I was drowning in this guy.
He released one of my hands as he shifted to the side to play with my nipples and he continued to kiss me. I ran my hand down his chest to his abdomen and his muscles flexed beneath my touch.
My fingers slipped under the band of his boxers.
His groan vibrated against my mouth and he tensed as my hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.
I broke from his kiss. “I want this inside of me.”
He stared at me, eyes flaring with desire. “You’ll get that.”
I moved my hand up and down his shaft, slow and gentle, then hard and fast.
His jaw clenched. “Your hand on me… Jesus.”
He inhaled a sharp breath as I slid my finger along the ridge of his shaft and head then gently squeezed.
He growled. “Fuck, enough.” He grabbed my hand and pulled it away from his cock. “I’m not spilling my load in my fuckin’ briefs like a teenager.”
I smiled. He didn’t.
Deaglan shoved off his boxer briefs before he reached over the side of the bed. I heard rustling denim before he rolled back with a gold package.
He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled the condom on with one hand before he ran his fingers across my belly to between my legs.
I gasped, closing my eyes and arching as he pushed two fingers inside me. His thumb rubbed my clit in slow, circular motions.
“Deaglan,” I breathed. “I want you inside me.”
“So fuckin’ wet for me, Eva.” He grabbed his cock and rubbed it up and down my wetness before settling at my entrance. I lifted my butt off the mattress to get him to push inside, but he pushed me back down. “Open your eyes.”
I opened them.
Deaglan hovered over me, eyes piercing and heated. His chest rose and fell as he breathed hard, matching my own.
“I can’t make promises, Eva.”
I curled my hand around the back of his neck. “I know.”
“Jesus.” His mouth crushed mine at the same time as he shoved inside me, my gasp swallowed by his kiss.
We rolled and the sheets tangled in our legs. We rolled back and he thrust harder. We gripped one another like it was the last time. There were no rules. No inhibitions. No quietness about it.
His fingers bunched in my hair and he tilted my head back as he kissed me, his body smacking mine.
“Oh God,” I cried against his mouth. “Deaglan.” My body spun on its axis as the pressure peaked inside me and my entire body stiffened.
He broke the kiss, grabbed my hands from around his neck and shoved them above my head, interlocking our fingers.
Then he drove deep. Hips rocking. Jaw clenched.
My body tensed. “Oh God. Oh God.” I fell over the peak, hard, and my inner core shuddered in pure ecstasy with wave after wave.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” he growled.
I quivered again as I watched him. He threw his head back as his body tensed and his thrusts eased.
Neither of us moved. Deaglan kept his eyes closed as he hung his head, hair falling in front of his face. His hands locked in mine above my head. His cock still inside me, pulsing.
I lowered my legs that were hitched on his hips and Deaglan squeezed my hands before he rolled off me.
I perched up on my side, head resting in my palm, body tingling.
I watched him remove the condom and walk across the room to the bathroom to dispose of it. He walked back, immodest by his nakedness, and I loved that about him. So self-assured in his own skin.
He tagged his phone off the nightstand and frowned as he tapped on it. I sat up, taking the sheet with me.
He tossed his phone on the bed and I tensed, waiting for it. The quick departure.
I was okay with it. I mean, I’d be okay with it. I just had to get used to it.
His eyes roamed over my face. “I have to head out, but I need a shower first. You good with that?”
I nodded. “Sure. Yeah.” I was totally fine with it. He’d just given me an orgasm that I’d feel for a week. And he’d stayed. All night.
“Do you want coffee to go?” I asked, still holding the sheet while I reached for my camisole at the end of the bed.
He leaned over and snagged the camisole from my hands, tossing it aside.
I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Eva, if I want coffee to go, I’ll stop at a fuckin’ coffee shop. You don’t make me coffee to go.” He yanked the sheet I held up to my chest out of my hands and I lie naked in front of him. “What I want is you in the shower with me so I can take you up against the wall and have your body shuddering in my arms. And then I’m going to wash every inch of you.”
Oh boy. My eyes widened and between my legs throbbed.
He smirked. “Then we’ll have coffee sitting at your kitchen table.”
Oh.
His brows lifted. “I’m giving you two seconds to move that sweet, luscious body before I toss you over my shoulder,” he said.
I knew from experience that Deaglan followed through with his threats, so I scrambled from the bed and ran into the washroom.
He followed and the door clicked shut behind him.
“I can’t believe he got us tickets to see Strikeback,” Ally said, bouncing on her toes to peer over the crowd. “It’s impossible to get tickets at Avalanche when a big band is playing. Can I just say, I love your new man.”
I snorted as we weaved through the crowd toward the bar. “He’s not my anything.” But it was beginning to feel like it, especially when for the last two weeks he’d slid into bed with me. Sometimes, he just curled me into his arms, and other times he stripped me naked and kissed every inch of my body before making me arch and scream beneath him.
Yesterday, I woke to find him making scrambled eggs and toast… in his jeans with the top button undone and no shirt. When I came up behind him and kissed the back of his shoulder, he picked me up and placed me
on the kitchen counter where he had me naked again in five seconds.
The toast burnt and the eggs turned to rubber.
“Over there.” Kendra pointed to an empty booth near the stage with a reserved sign. God, Deaglan must be really good friends with the owner to get us a booth that close to stage.
I was getting that Deaglan was thoughtful, as well as demanding and stubborn, but he actually bought me a new can opener. I didn’t know he had until I found it in the kitchen drawer when I went to open a can of tuna for Mr. Cavendish’s cat. It was just a can opener, but he’d bought it because I needed it, placed it in the drawer and never told me.
“Whoa, you see the hottie bartender?” Ally said as we slid into the booth. The band hadn’t started playing yet, but the music was loud and the place was packed, so she’d virtually yelled the words.
I glanced at the bar and saw a tall, lean, tatted guy wearing a snug black tee. As if sensing eyes on him, he lifted his head and peered over at us. He chin lifted then went back to serving the blonde girl who was obviously trying to get his attention with leaning over the bar with her over-sized boobs.
“How old do you think he is?” Ally asked. “Thirty?”
“He’s thirty-four,” a girl said, appearing beside our booth wearing a short black apron over her jeans and a white tee.
“Is he single?” Ally asked.
Kendra and I rolled our eyes.
The waitress laughed. “Don’t worry, I get asked all the time. Recently single. But Matt’s only relationship is with this bar.”
“Matt?” I asked. Deaglan had said the owner of Avalanche was a guy named Matt. “Is he the owner?”
She nodded with a smile. “Yeah. Which of you is Deaglan’s girl?”
Ally pointed at me. “She is.”
The young waitress smiled. “Well, drinks are on Deaglan tonight and he said don’t argue,” she said with a smile. “So, what can I get you?”
Ally ordered three shots of tequila and a pitcher of beer for the table.
The waitress tucked a few stray strands of her long, dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
It was an hour later, while listening to Strikeback on stage and drinking our second tequila shot and laughing over the piece of toilet paper stuck to Kendra’s heel when she came back from the washroom, that a shadow cast over our table.
