Littler Conversations (Conversations #1.5)

by Sibylla Matilde

  “So,” he continued, “we lit the dried grasses along the edge of the fire line, doing everything we could to keep it from spreading back behind us, and it worked. The firestorm pulled these new flames towards it. I’ve always heard of it happening, but I’ve never seen it. Never tried it. As much as I hope to never really have to see anything like it again, it was really kind of… awesome. And as it burned towards the main blaze, we were able to clear out some spots in the burn. So we pulled out fire shelters and hunkered down in a small clearing. I think it was like a small, dry lakebed or something.”

  He stared absently into the dark, his voice growing quiet and husky. Devin watched his shadowy silhouette and waited a moment for him to go on. He sounded a bit awestruck in the still of the night.

  “God, it seemed like it took forever, but I think it was maybe ten or fifteen minutes tops before it blew up around us. It was so fucking loud, we could barely hear the plane, and then this weird sound, which must have been the retardant being released, and then, the whole thing just sort of… died down.”

  Ronin looked down at her pensive expression, and his hand rose to cup her cheek.

  “It took us a while to get everyone up and out. Amazingly, nobody was really badly hurt, although we all sort of felt like baked potatoes in the little fire tents. A few burns here and there. Some singed hair. The whole crew was bewildered and shaken. But we’d been far enough from the old growth trees, out in the open and in the burned area, and we… we made it. A couple of the guys dug out their maps and compasses, trying to figure out which way to go to hike out. We were all kind of shaken by how close it had been. It took us a little while to get our bearings. By the time we started getting things sorted out, the sun had gone down and it was so dark. With the changes of landscape, it was so hard to tell exactly where we were.”

  Ronin shifted, rolling onto his side to face Devin in the pale starlight that filtered in through the window. And, with a deep emotion that burrowed deep into her soul, he studied her, tracing the arch of her eyebrow with the pad of his thumb.

  “I just wanted to get home. I knew you were worried as fuck, glued to the news and InciWeb and shit. So, I just had to get home… to you.” He paused for a second, then a tender smile touched his lips. “Then the wind shifted and the smoke cleared, and I saw the stars. And, just as if it was you leading the way, I saw the Big Dipper pointing us towards home.”

  Chapter 7 ~ The Towel Drops

  Ronin stood in the bathroom shaving with just a little, white towel wrapped around his waist. Devin leaned against the door frame for a moment watching. The scrape of the razor ran across his bristly jaw, slowly clearing away the shaving cream in smooth, even strokes. The fluid movement of thick muscle in his back and shoulders was hypnotizing.

  His eyes caught hers in the mirror, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

  “What are you doing, Dev?”

  “Just watching you.” She quietly stepped into the room, wrapping her arms around his sculpted waist and pressing her lips against his strong back before peering over his shoulder to study him in the mirror. Her eyes followed the long, sure stroke of the razor from his cheek down to his chiseled jaw, and Ronin’s gaze kept flickering over his shoulder to her as he slowly swept away the last of the shaving cream.

  Devin slipped under his arm as he rinsed the razor and grabbed a soft washcloth, wetting it in the hot water and sweeping it over his cheeks to remove the last bits of soap and residue, then ran her fingertips down the smooth skin.

  “Every time I see you shaving, it takes me back to so long ago,” she quietly murmured. “That time when I couldn’t get my car to start. I came here and you answered the door like this…. in just a little white towel.” She felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “I about swallowed my tongue.”

  Ronin’s hands settled at her waist, tipping his face down towards her as her gaze dropped to his chest, almost bashfully. Still, after all this time, he could make her feel so very much… shy, warmed, protected, and brave all at once.

  “Mmm… yeah, I remember that day,” he rumbled softly. When he spoke, his lips brushed against her tousled bangs, sending a ripple of sensuality through her, as though his very presence was an aphrodisiac.

  “I wanted you so bad right then. You had no idea,” she quietly said.

  “I had some idea,” Ronin smiled.

  Her eyes shot up to his. “Nuh uh… You couldn’t have. I tried so hard to hide it.”

  “Baby, you wear your heart in your eyes, and your eyes were on fire. I don’t ordinarily think I’m God’s gift or anything, but sometimes you look at me and I feel like I could move mountains.”

  “You must have thought I was an idiot,” Devin sighed softly.

  “I thought you were adorable. It seriously hurt that you were so adorable. And really, really hot. To know that all that stood between us was a little scrap of fabric loosely tucked around my hips.”

  “That’s all that’s between us right now, you know.”

  A deep burn began in Ronin’s hazel eyes, and his lips fell open slightly to take in more air. “Well, that and this shirt…” he quietly added as he began to slowly undo the buttons of the flannel shirt she wore, one by one, slowly to the point that it became maddening. Her fingers lifted to help, and he pushed them aside, back down to the counter.

  “You’ll get your turn,” Ronin smiled, looking at her hotly. “But you had your little daydream. I had mine.”

  “What was that?” Her voice sounded hoarse and breathless.

  “That very first night in my bed. The night that we almost… right at the beginning. I held you and watched you sleep in my arms, dried the tears on your cheeks. I wondered what it would be like to be loved by you.” Ronin swallowed hard, and they gave her a wry smile. “And then, you came out of my room the next morning wearing one of my shirts. Fucking sexiest thing I ever saw.”

  “I had my dress under it…”

  “Not in my mind, you didn’t,” he chuckled quietly. “And I’d be willing to bet there’s not much under this now.” His fingers finally released the last button, slipping through the open shirt to trail softly down the sensitive skin low on her abdomen. “Hmm… or nothing at all…”

  Ronin brought his hands up and slowly pushed the fabric from her shoulders, baring her body before him. She was completely naked underneath, and she stood trembling before him as his warm hands reverently traced the soft lines of her body.

  “You’re gorgeous, Dev,” he whispered as he dipped his head to touch his lips on her bare shoulder. Her fingers instinctively went for his waist, her body needing the solid strength of his to hold her steady. As they settled along the top of the towel, she drew her body back slightly, slipping her fingers under the soft fabric and running them along to the spot Ronin had tucked it under to hold it on.

  And then she pulled, ever so slightly.

  The towel loosened... and dropped to the floor.

  God, he was stunning.

  Head to toe. His broad shoulders with firm, defined muscles that flowed artistically down his body. The thickness of his biceps that flexed as her nails gently scraped over his abdomen. His grip became tighter at her hips as her fingers wandered over his skin. Her lips began to follow, to nip and taste. To breathe in his body and admire every inch of skin.

  Ronin’s hands slipped down the back of her legs, lifting slightly to set her on the counter, and she wrapped her arms, her whole body, around him, moaning into him as he caught her mouth with his. His solid heat pressed up against her felt heavenly, and his lips ravaged hers, stealing her breath away. Ronin’s hand slipped up her torso, smoothly capturing her soft breast. The blissful sensation caused Devin to arch her back, steadying herself with a hand placed on the counter.

  As Ronin bent to taste her skin, her eyes caught their reflection in the full-length mirror beside them. She watched and felt as Ronin’s lips closed over her aching nipple. Her eyes half-closed, fighting to focus on the erotic sight of their
bodies intertwined. His dark, tan, muscular form cradling her small, pale curves. Her dark hair tumbled back from her body as her head dropped back with a sensual thrill. Watching his face, the soft emotion he revealed as he savored her skin.

  A quiet sob brought his head up to look at her, and followed the direction of her gaze to their reflection.

  “Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely. “You watching us, baby?”

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and then she gasped as his hand drifted down to her thigh, spreading her legs wide to reveal her aching, wet center. Watching his thick fingers spread her glistening pink folds intensified the feel of it, and she moaned as she watched one finger, then two, glide inside her, pulling back out, shining with her wetness. His thumb pressed against her swollen clit as he pressed his fingers back inside, curling them to rub her inner walls.

  Devin couldn’t watch anymore. Her eyes slammed shut as the first tremors began to ripple through her, as he brought her higher, tighter against him, his touch deeper inside her. The pressure of his large thumb rubbed against her clit, circling, then brushing straight across causing her body to jolt and stiffen. Her eyes flew open as she felt herself begin to go over, and she saw herself, on the cusp of orgasm. Ronin’s deep hazel gaze captured her green eyes and held them as she shuddered and gasped, curling her body tightly against him, held firmly by his solid grip.

  His fingertips brushed gently inside her, once more, twice, and again, bringing her softly down and back into consciousness. Devin carefully shifted her hips, pressing closer to his thick length as it lay against her thigh. Her leg bent at the knee, pulling up against his side as she offered herself for his taking. His cock trailed over to press against the apex of her legs, and his expression darkened with a renewed surge of lust. Of need and wanting.

  “I want to watch you fuck me,” she moaned to his reflection in the mirror, and his hand pulled her leg a little tighter up against him, clearing their view a bit more.

  Ronin looked down for only a moment to guide himself to her wet core, but quickly focused back at the mirror to watch the play of their muscles as he filled her. Their eyes met for a moment in the mirror as he pushed in fully, planting himself deeply.

  There was an element added with the visual before them, almost as though they were watching someone else, a quasi-voyeurism or exhibitionism. Watching the rotation of her hips to meet his, seeing the muscles of his legs and ass tightening and holding with every thrust. Ronin lifted her leg up higher to allow them to see the connection in the mirror, to see his thick length push and pull, wrenching shattering vibrations from deep inside her.

  Her head fell back as she arched her spine, her eyelids fluttering closed. It was all too much. Watching their animalistic mating seemed to bring her to the peak too fast, and she wanted to stay, just how they were, forever. But even with her eyes closed, the image of their reflection stayed with her. And with the touch of Ronin’s lips on her breast, drawing hard on her nipple with a tender bite, Devin flew apart around him. Her trembling body fell back against the counter, and Ronin’s strong grip pulled her hips up to the edge. He began to increase the speed and bruising force of his thrusts, slapping himself against her and in her, pausing for a moment to lean down and give her a voracious kiss.

  “I want it to last,” he groaned against her lips, “but, fuck, honey, the way you tighten around me when you come… Oh, Christ… and that tight grip on my cock pulses through you. I lose all control.”

  “Let it go, Ronin,” she breathed. “Be wild with me.”

  And Ronin gripped her breast, almost painfully, and let it go as Devin watched in the mirror.

  Uncontrolled.

  Wild.

  Beautiful.

  The End

  Music that inspired the story

  See the complete playlist on Spotify

  Littler Conversations—Sibylla Matilde

  http://open.spotify.com/user/sibyllamatilde/playlist/1IkGt5q80bTJS5lvviDVlN

  Kings Of Leon ~ Wait for Me

  Concrete Blonde ~ Someday?

  Kate Earl ~ One Woman Army

  Maroon 5 ~ Love Somebody

  Pearl Jam ~ Just Breathe

  Don Henley ~ The Last Worthless Evening

  Me First and the Gimme Gimmes ~ Rainbow Connection

  ZZ Top ~ Rough Boy

  Lady Gaga ~ Just Dance

  Sara Bareilles ~ I Choose You

  Sia ~ Breathe Me

  Christina Perri ~ arms

  Sarah McLachlan ~ Answer

  Eric Clapton ~ Angel

  Acknowledgements

  This short little novella was truly a year in the making. Not long after I published Little Conversations, I was invited to do a Valentine’s Day post for THESUBCLUBbooks, and the idea of the baby Orion began to form. In fact, the prologue of this story is pretty much an edited version of that post. I had to keep going, though, because I loved the tie between Ronin and Devin’s love and the stories of the stars. And the thought of a sweet and gentle alpha telling those stories to his infant son.

  So I finally got it done, over a year later. Anyone who has been in direct contact with me of late knows this will probably be the only novella I ever write. (I’ve kind of complained about it nonstop.) But it does seem fitting that, as he was the first book boyfriend I put down on paper, that he would be the only one to get a novella.

  I have a ton of people to thank for so many things in this past year, and I’m always so freaked out that I’ll forget someone. But I’m going to try to remember.

  My SmutSisters –Adriane, Alexis, Amy, Beth, Dympna, Jill, Joan, Kadene, (one R) Teri, and (two R) Terri. We have our ups and downs, but, in the end, we are one hell of an awesome dysfunctional family.

  My Flannel Squad – Amy, Angela, Arabella, Ashley, Catherine, Chantel, Cherry, Chris, Danni, Dawn, Diane, Ecaterina, Erica, Jane, Janina, Jen, Jen (yes, another one), Jennifer, Laura, Lily, Lisa, Lynn, Michelle/Shell, Nicole, Nikki, Rhian, Sam, Stacy, Tina, and Tracy. I talk to some of you almost every day, some of you only once in a while. But I appreciate every itty bitty thing you’ve done for me. LEZZY KISSES!

  To my amazing beta readers – Michelle, Beth, Terri, Amy, Nicole, Ashley, Erica, Diane, Jen, and Arabella (and anyone else I might have forgotten…Oh crap I hope I didn’t forget anyone). You guys keep me from sounding like a complete idiot. I’m pretty sure every author dreads this part of writing a book, but your honesty and support are a huge part of any success we have.

  To all the bloggers who have pimped me over the past year. I wouldn’t even have a writing career if it wasn’t for you. You all work endlessly to write reviews because you just really, really love to read. You are an indie author’s best friend.

  To my family, my own ‘Ronin’ and my kids. My weird little dogs. For some reason you love me even when I have been binge writing and haven’t washed a dish in a week. You seem to show true joy when I actually cook (okay, so it kind of depends on what I’m cooking) and don’t complain too much when I drive through Taco Bell… again and again and again. To my mom and my dad and my brothers and my more ‘extended’ family for supporting me in this off-shoot from real life.

  And, finally, to my Pimp Shell and my Brit Ho Bethy Boo. I can’t go a day without talking to you guys… that’s pretty evident. We’ve got an ocean between us, but you chicks are so close to my heart that I don’t even feel it. I can’t wait to see you again in person, whether it is here in Montana or Fort Lauderdale or Montreal. I love you both all the way to Orion and back! (And, just for the record, Shell totally bagsied Ronin right out of the gate so he’s all hers.)

  About Sibylla

  Sibylla Matilde grew up in the mountain valleys of Southwest Montana, and grew up exploring the alfalfa fields on the back of a horse. She attended a two-room schoolhouse 1st through 6th grade where she had same teacher the whole time. Beginning at about age 12, Sibylla discovered historical romance, feeding off of work of Jude Devereaux, Lisa Kleypas, and Karen Robards. She loves a boo
k that can make the reader run the gamut of emotions, from the sweet glow of new love to gut-wrenching heartache. She always has stories floating around in her head, living in some fantasyland until she writes them down to free them. She is a true romantic, a bit of a Pollyanna, and a deeply emotional soul.

  Music is her emotional trigger. Growing up with a Wagnarian-opera-loving mother, Sibylla grew up with music that digs deep into her soul and pulls out emotion. The soundtrack to her life includes different genres and generations. She looooooooves Thirty Seconds to Mars (rather obsessively, actually) with a little Kings of Leon to mix things up, and pimps them out regularly to all her friends through Spotify. She also enjoys watching Met Opera HD broadcasts at her local movie theater, and hopes (listening Met?) to someday see Diana Damrau reprise her role as Mozart’s Queen of the Night in Die Zauberflöte – The Magic Flute.

  Sibylla lives with her husband, Mike, a man who she firmly believes saved her from her self-destructive, hot mess self. He makes her laugh every day, even when things seem to be falling apart around them, and has proved to her that love really can heal a shattered soul. In almost 19 years, they have never had a fight, but argue regularly with their two teenage kids who have, unfortunately, inherited their father’s quick wit (unfortunate as it is a quick wit that Sibylla, herself, definitely does not possess – there is a reason she is a writer and not a stand-up comedian), and live a quiet life with their two weird little rescued Chiweenies. Wait… teenagers and little yap-dogs? Okay, maybe not so quiet. :)

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