by Erin Noelle
MONDAY, OCTOBER 15
I LOOK LIKE SHIT, PROBABLY the worst I’ve ever looked in my life, including that time my junior year I got mono and didn’t get out of bed for four weeks. Unfortunately, I feel even worse.
If I eat, I feel like I’m going to throw up. If I don’t eat, I feel like I’m going to throw up. When I sleep, it’s filled with nightmares of me chasing something through a forest, only to lose it when I run into a massive ocean that appears out of nowhere. Then I suddenly wake up and all I can think about is him. Levi. My Hulk. I need to know he’s okay. I’m freaking the fuck out.
Class this morning was a joke. I’m not sure why I attempted to go, as all I did the entire time was stare at my phone, hoping and praying for some kind of information. It’s been forty-eight hours, and the only things I know are from internet reports that claim he’s stable and currently undergoing tests.
I’m not sure if he’s still in Munich or here, but I’m assuming Germany, since Emilia hasn’t replied to my multiple texts. When I finally do talk to her, I’m probably going to lose my fucking shit for leaving me hanging like this. Even though I pretend I don’t have feelings for Levi, she knows better and has to realize I’m going crazy with worry.
Yet somehow, the world keeps spinning around me, and I’m expected to keep functioning. Don’t these people realize the stress I’m under right now?
I never got a chance to be un-stubborn and tell him how I really feel. In my favorite fantasy, I’d ‘accidentally’ run into him sometime in the next few months while he’s visiting Emilia and Gunner’s new place, and he’d break down and tell me how much he thought about me and missed me. And how he couldn’t live without me. Then, I could tell him I feel the same way too, and we would figure out a way to live happily ever after, the motocross star and the spa owner. Hulk and Sunshine.
But now . . .
Tears prick the back of my eyes at the thought that he might be fighting for his life at this exact moment. Or what if he can never ride again? He’d be devastated; dirt bikes are his life. That’s what makes him the happiest.
Sighing, I slurp down the last gulp of Coke before popping a piece of gum in my mouth and applying a fresh coat of lip balm to my dehydrated lips. Then, climbing down out of my Jeep, I say a quick prayer that this shift ends quickly as I bound across the parking lot to The Lotus Center, the trendy Denver day spa where I’m doing my required internship.
“Hey, Dakota! How was your weekend, lovey?” Rosie, the middle-aged receptionist, greets me with her always cheerful self as I walk into work, eyeing the plastic bag in my hand. “Oh, what kind of goodies do we have today?”
“They were out of chocolate chip, so I got oatmeal raisin,” I announce as I toss the white sack on top of the counter in front of her. “I hope you like ’em.”
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I stop at this homestyle diner on my way from school to TLC, and included in my meal are a pack of four cookies, two of which I eat myself and two that I bring to her. One of the first things I learned when working here is that the receptionists know who tip well, and since I’m working for next to nothing until I get my license, tips are my bread and butter. Receptionists are my best friends.
Even feeling as craptastic as I do today, I wouldn’t forget to bring Rosie her afternoon sweet fix. I may be a fucking wreck inside, but I’m not stupid, and with my lack of an appetite today, she gets all four.
She winks at me, hiding the sweets underneath the cabinet. “I’m sure I’ll love ’em. By the way, your one o’clock is already here. Set up in room two for a ninety-minute deep tissue.”
“Yay me,” I groan, dropping my purse in the locked closet for the employees’ personal belongings. I don’t feel like being here today, and I really don’t feel like doing an hour-and-a-half deep tissue to start the day. My fingers will ache the rest of the day.
“You seem grumpier than usual. Vibrator run out of batteries this weekend?” she jokes, flipping her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder.
I give her the not today look and shake my head. She needs to stick one of those damn cookies in her mouth and leave me alone.
Undeterred by my bitchy mood, she flashes me her sparkling white caps. “One day soon, you’re gonna thank me for this moment. Right now.” She shoos me to the back with her hand, not bothering to explain her cryptic message. “Now get going. You don’t want to keep the clients waiting.”
Then, she turns her back to me and picks up the phone, ending the conversation whether I was through talking or not. I lied about receptionists being my best friends. They’re crazy bitches.
“I don’t want to keep the clients waiting,” I mock her under my breath as I walk down the hall to room two.
One last quick check of my phone before I enter for the first session of the day, and still radio silence. I’m not sure I can take much more of this. I may be booking a plane ticket to Munich tonight if I don’t hear something soon.
Sucking in a deep breath, I focus on the current task at hand—getting through the next five hours of work. My knuckles rap against the door as I call out, “Are you covered?”
No response.
Another knock. “Headed inside.”
I give the client a three-count to cover up before turning the knob and pushing the door open. It takes my eyes a couple of seconds to adjust to the dim lighting in the massage room, but as I turn around from locking the door behind me, my world is completely knocked off its axis.
“Hey, Sunshine,” Levi drawls as he sits fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt on top of the massage table, a crooked smile angling his lips. There’s a good size cut across one of his cheeks, and his right arm is in a sling. But other than those few things, he seems to be in one piece and coherent.
“Hulk,” I gasp, stumbling backward until my back hits the wall. “What are you doing here? You . . . you . . . I mean, you . . .”
Shocked. Stunned. Completely fucking stupefied. I feel like I’m dreaming, but I can’t even move my fingers enough to pinch myself.
“Well, I’m sure as hell not here for a massage, gorgeous girl. Although, having your hands all over me definitely has its appeal.” He smirks as he slides off the bed and onto his feet. “But I didn’t know any other way I could get you to agree to spend some time with me so we could talk. I’ve been waiting to talk to you for a long fucking time, Dakota, and I don’t feel like waiting anymore.”
Three long strides later, he’s in front of me, hooking his free arm around my shoulders, bundling me up to his side. My arms gingerly circle around his waist, careful not to hurt any of his injuries, but unable to not touch him. Please don’t let me be dreaming. Please don’t let me be dreaming.
“God, I missed you so fucking much, Dakota,” he whispers into my hair, and suddenly, all the tension built up inside me—weighing me down, not just over the last couple of days, but over the past few months—evaporates into thin air. I can breathe.
I’ve missed him. His touch. His voice. His smell. The feel of his body against mine. Everything about him fills the gaping hole of emptiness I’ve been living with. Him. Just him.
“Levi,” I exhale, tilting my head back to look into his twinkling eyes. “I’ve been so worried. How are you here? I saw you Saturday on TV in Germany, and I’ve been texting Emilia, trying to find out what happened . . . but the articles on the internet said you were stable and nothing else . . . and I couldn’t get ahold of anyone. I’ve been freaking out, not knowing what to do. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. Are you okay? I mean I know you’re not okay, but . . . what happened?” My thoughts become frantic and my words run together as I try to blurt out everything all at once.
Bringing his hand around to my face, he cups my jaw, and I lean into his touch, desperate for anything I can get. “You were watching?” he asks, surprised.
“Of course I was. Didn’t you hear me? I told you I’ve been texting Emilia like crazy, but she never answered!” I exclaim. Now that I know he’s
going to be okay, frustration sets in over the hours I’ve spent in purgatory, waiting to know something . . . anything. “I’ve been losing my damn mind!”
He brushes his left thumb across the apple of my cheek and smiles ruefully. “When Emmy Sue jumped up to run out on the track after the accident, her phone shattered on the ground. She’s getting it replaced today, so she didn’t know you’d texted. Did she know you were gonna watch?”
I shake my head and drop my focus to the floor, feeling like a foolish child. “No, I asked her not to talk about you when we’re together,” I mumble, looking off to the side.
Grabbing my chin, he forces my gaze back to his. “But you were really watching and rooting for me?” he asks hopefully.
My eyes open wide as I nod. “Of course I was. I told you I’d always be cheering for you.”
“Then why didn’t you come do it in person?” Glancing down at his chest, he snickers and adds, “Apparently, I could’ve used some help.”
Now it’s my turn to be confused. “In person? Was I just supposed to show up in Germany and surprise you after not having talked to you in three months? That would’ve been a little presumptuous of me to think you’d even want me to come. Don’t ya think?”
His jaw ticks as his forehead wrinkles with pain . . . or frustration . . . or maybe both. “You didn’t open the envelope I left in your bag?!”
Chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, I blink hard several times and shake my head again. “No,” I confess in a whisper. “I . . . I just couldn’t. I’m sorry. I’ve kinda been a mess since I got back.” God, that sounds pathetic.
He drags his exasperated fingers through his chin-length locks as a thunderous roar rumbles deep in his chest, but instead of snapping at me, he returns his hand to the side my face and smiles adoringly. “Oh, my stubborn little Sunshine. What am I gonna do with you?”
“Why? What’s inside the envelope? I’m confused.” I don’t understand what me going to Germany has to do with a note he left me months ago. And I’m still not sure why he’s here, in massage room two at my place of employment, two days after he was in a serious crash. I’ve got to be dreaming.
“We can talk everything out later,” he rasps, his hungry gaze flitting back and forth between my mystified eyes and trembling lips, “but right now, I need to taste that sweet mouth. I’ve been thinking about this moment for way too fucking long.”
Then, with a single caress of his lips and a lazy stroke of his tongue, he attempts to claim me yet again, and this time . . . this time, I just might let him.
MONDAY, OCTOBER 15
MINE. ALL FUCKING MINE. I know it. She knows it. And as I kiss her like a man possessed, I embrace my inner caveman and take what belongs to me, vowing to not let her run away again.
“Fuck, Dakota,” I mumble against her honeyed mouth, tasting the tropical glossy shit she always wears. “Why’d you stay away? I’ve needed this.” I nip at the swollen, rosy flesh of her full bottom lip, then swipe my tongue over the same spot to soothe away the pain. “I’ve needed you.”
Dakota moans softly as her body melds to my uninjured side, and the constraints around my heart loosen. Having her in my arms makes me forget about everything else. The physical pain from the crash, the disappointment and anger over not winning, and the hatred and complete lack of respect I have for Lance Foss . . . all of it, gone. She’s all that I want. All I can see. All I fucking need to be happy.
Moving us over to the weird looking bed-table thing, she climbs on top of the white sheets then I nudge her bare feet open and step between them, my cock stirring as I press against the top of her mound. “The door’s locked, right?” I ask, dropping my lips to just under her ear, delivering a string of kisses down her neck.
“Yessss,” she hisses as I cup her right breast over the pale yellow top, my thumb skimming across her nipple and piercing. Of course, my Sunshine’s in yellow.
“And we’ve got ninety minutes?” I kiss and nip at the delicate skin of her collarbone, frustrated when her shirt keeps getting in the way.
Her fingers twist into my hair and get a good, firm hold on the strands before she yanks my head back, forcing me to look in her face. A battle between pride and lust plays out in her eyes as her mouth quivers with uncertainty.
“Hulk, I don’t—I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I’ve missed you so much . . . too much, and that’s the problem. I can’t lose myself in you like I did before, just for you to leave again.”
“Stop overthinking this shit so much, Dakota,” I rumble, jerking my head free from her grip as I lower my mouth back to where her pulse pounds wildly in the valley of her throat. “I’m not going anywhere, and if you wouldn’t have been so damn stubborn for the past three months, you’d have known that. I’m tired of giving you time. I’m not playing games anymore.”
She whimpers as my hand falls to the hem of her shirt and slips under the thin cotton, lightly feathering over the soft skin directly below her belly button. I feel her resolve weakening with each heartbeat. I just need her to let me back in, to remind her what it’s like when we’re together . . . what we’re like when we move as one.
“Like I promised, we’ll talk about everything later, but for right now, you’re cutting into my time to reacquaint myself with this sexy fucking body that belongs to me.” Dipping my fingers beneath the elastic waistband of her yoga pants, I brush the tips over her lace panties, already damp from her hot cunt. “And I’ve only got eighty-five minutes left, Sunshine.”
She slides her hand in between us and grabs my throbbing cock outside my jeans. “Then quit talking so fucking much, Hulk,” she purrs in my ear. There’s my girl. “Ooh, button fly. My favorite,” she adds with a sexy smirk.
“Take them off for me,” I say, leaning back slightly to give her room to work.
Seconds later, all the buttons are unfastened and my jeans and boxers are tangled around my ankles, my poor, neglected cock standing at full attention. I’m pissed I’ve only got one hand to work with, only one hand to touch her with, but I’ll fucking get over it. The important shit still works.
My shirt has to stay on due to the sling and soft cast I got earlier today at the doctor’s office, so I imagine that I look pretty fucking ridiculous, but none of that matters either with the way she’s eyeing my dick like she wants to devour it.
“Now what, Hulk?” she asks, licking her lips and batting her eyelashes like the playful little vixen she is.
Purposely taunting her, I shuffle backward, out of her reach, and wrap my fingers around the base of my steeled shaft, slowly stroking up and down the length. “Strip then lay flat on your back. I’ve been craving the sweet taste of that pretty pink pussy you’ve been keeping from me.”
My tone is more commanding than I intend, but she doesn’t seem to notice or mind, because she hops straight down from the table—hauling her shirt over her head, unsnapping her bra, and pushing her pants and panties down her legs—then crawls right back up and lays out in front of me.
Oh, fucking hell.
She’s even more perfect than I remember. I don’t know what to do first. I want to touch and kiss and hold every goddamn inch of her flushed skin until she realizes how fucking deep I’m in with her. Never once in my twenty-seven years have I ever wanted or needed something like I want and need her in my life every day and in my bed every night.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Dakota,” I murmur as I reach out and splay my hand across her stomach, goose bumps rippling across her skin outward like a wave. “Do you know how many times I’ve jacked off thinking about you just like this?” My hand skims up to her chest, caressing first one tit then the other. “Thinking about the way your dusky nipples harden under my touch.” I roll one heated bud between my finger and thumb as I lower my mouth to the other, exhaling a warm breath over the pebbled peak before flicking it with my tongue.
Her back curves into a graceful arc, lifting up off the flat surface. “P
lease, more,” she begs.
Chuckling, I shake my head as I move down her lithe frame. “Oh, I’m gonna give you plenty more, gorgeous girl,” I tease, my fingers trailing over her hipbone, landing directly at the smooth apex between her legs.
She gasps as I spread apart her lower lips and drop my face to her glistening folds, the smell of her arousal intoxicating and irresistible. I grip the inside of her milky thighs, holding them wide open as I swipe at her silky cunt with my tongue, moaning as I get the first taste of her sweet cream in way too fucking long. Damn, I could live on this shit.
Closing my mouth over her sex, I flick and swirl and suck and nip, dipping my tongue into her slick core until she’s a writhing, pleading mess, shamelessly exploding on my face. “James, oh, my God, James!” she screams out, both of us completely forgetting where we are.
Her orgasm snaps the fragile handle I had on my self-control, and as she comes down from her release, I haul her down the bed with my one useful arm until her ass is nearly hanging off the end. Unable to wait another fucking minute to feel her tight, velvety walls wrapped around me, I curl my fingers around her hip, anchoring her down, and slide the crown of my cock inside her smoldering core.
Hot, tight, and wet. Inch by glorious fucking inch, I fill her with my shaft until my balls are resting plum against the swell of her ass. Buried to the hilt inside my girl once again, I can now die a happy man.
“Fuck me, please!” she cries, rolling her hips against mine. “I’ve missed you. Missed this so much.”
That’s all the urging I need as I plunge in and out of her, and the entire time our heated gazes are locked on each other, speaking silently to each other like only we can do.
No more hiding, Sunshine. This is mine. I slap her clit hard enough to make her hips buck up. YOU are mine.
Her inner walls clamp down on me with a vise-like grip, nearly hurling me straight off the deep end, and she smirks, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me. Fuck now, talk later. Eye on the prize, Hulk.
