“I’m not asking you to give my brother your virginity, though you will soon,” he mumbles with a laugh.
I flip my middle finger at him and then turn my back, snatching my coat from the edge of my bed. I zip it up and walk down the stairway pausing for a moment to catch my breath.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I’m about to talk to Danny Oliver face-to-face.
I throw open the front door and step into the frosty night air. My eyes travel from his tan boots to his army fitted fatigue pants to his hand clutched around a bouquet of red roses. My chin tips up and travels to his shirt that’s still stretched to its capacity and to his mole on his chin, up to his remarkable brown eyes.
“Hey,” he greets softly.
I cross my arms over my chest and shiver. I don’t know if I shiver from the cold or from being so close to Danny.
“Hey.”
He extends his left hand, giving me the roses. “Happy birthday, December.”
I take them, wanting to whack them against the shutters of the porch until all the petals fall off. I refuse to say thank you, but I freeze when one of his hands lift to touch the gold band. His lips tip up in a grin so arrogant it should be slapped away. “Still waiting for me, little lady.” He moves closer, leaning into me and pressing his lips at my ear. “It’s going to happen tonight. All bets are off. I’m cashing in.”
My mouth falls open, and I inhale the scent that is him. He still smells of fire and sex, spice and heat. He smells like passion that will burn me. He smells as irresistible as he looks.
I shut my eyes and soak in his presence for what it’s worth, and then I open my eyes with a steely resolve of my own. I shove him away. He goes nowhere, so it’s me who has to step back. I toss the flowers at his feet. “Fuck off, Danny.”
“Tonight, December,” he says darkly like some kind of threat as I make my way into the house.
“Fuck you, Danny!”
His stunning eyes light with something, and his grin turns into a full-blown smile. “You will, baby.”
I shut the door in his face and storm up the steps and into my room. “I hate Danny Oliver!” I scream at Gray, who chokes on laughter.
See?
Luck has never been in my favor.
CHAPTER TWO
THE PRESENT
Warmness encloses around me like a thick quilt, soft and comfortable and familiar. I snuggle back against it, wanting to be near it, wanting to be flooded by it. My mind is frazzled in an altered state that has everything to do with me drinking too much alcohol. I partied hard last night.
But I know I’m dreaming. I have the same dream most nights. It’s a recurring dream or horrifying nightmare, depending on how I look at it. I’m haunted by Danny most nights. Sometimes it’s his voice in my ear. Other times I can literally feel the warmth of his skin touching mine. When I wake, I’m hit with wave after wave of indescribable sadness, so much sadness and longing. When I wake, he’s never there. The dreams are never real. I’m always alone with his fleeting voice whispering in my ear like a distant lullaby I no longer know.
“Baby,” a soft voice whispers in my ear.
“Baby,” I mimic, rubbing my ass against his hard-on.
“You want to play, little lady?” he murmurs in my ear, nipping the side of my neck with a sharp bite of his teeth.
I shudder and groan, grinding my backside into him. “I want to play, Danny.”
One of his hands slide up my bare thighs, and his warm palm settles between my legs. His fingers hook through my panties, moving them to the side and out of the way. He boldly cups me, aggressive and possessive, growling low in my ear. Warmth blooms in my stomach at the primal sound of his voice.
Clutching my pillows, I begin to pant as he rubs my clit in a lazy motion. His fingers are gentle and slow, in no hurry to give me release. Danny only gives me teasing touches and light caresses. He brings me to the brink and keeps me there. He spreads my folds apart with his hand, endlessly exploring. His fingers are skilled, tantalizingly skilled.
“Little lady.” He breathes hot in my ear.
“Danny.”
“Fuck.” His voice becomes hoarse when I begin to tremble, on the verge of an orgasm. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”
“Me, either,” I mumble into the pillows as I fight the inevitable climax rising within me like a swell of fire wanting to be freed.
This dream is out of this world.
His voice.
His touch.
It feels so real.
“Let go, December.”
“No.” I squeeze my legs shut, trapping his hand between my thighs. I don’t want to let go because I’ll wake to nothing. And why wake to nothing when I have him here next to me?
He laughs softly, his fingers still gently caressing me.
“Stubborn,” he whispers against my neck, his rough stubble scraping my heated skin. His fingers trace languid circles around my clit. “I want to feel you come on my hand, December. And then I’m going to lick you clean with my tongue. I’ve wanted to taste you for years now. Is that what you want?”
I shudder violently.
To hear him dirty talk is surreal.
“No,” I mumble into the pillows.
“Liar.” He hisses, biting my earlobe with a sharp bite of his teeth.
I groan and hiss back at him like the animal he’s making me out to be.
“Let’s see how wet you can get.” His free hand closes around one of my breasts, his fingers harshly pinching my nipple through the thin fabric of my cotton shirt. I shudder. A zap of electric warmth surges through my body. He sucks on the skin of my neck and then bites me between my shoulder blades with enough pressure to have me gasping. Without warning, he pushes a single thick finger inside of me and presses hard against the resistance.
Fire.
Pain.
Burning.
Pleasure.
A desperate, animal-like groan leaves my lips.
“I can feel your hymen. There’s nothing but my sheer control that’s keeping it intact. I can fuck you now, like you want, and there would be little you could do about it. It would hurt at first, but I would make your pain worth your pleasure.” His fingers stay busy, pressing deep and teasing lightly. He bites the pulse point on my neck. “Be a good girl and come for Danny.”
Fireworks set off low in my belly. I stiffen and then convulse, groaning out in pleasant agony. A rush of fluid seeps out of me. Petrified, I clamp my thighs tightly together with his palm still there.
“You are really something,” he says, almost awestruck, his fingers delicately touching me. I become fully aware of the scent of my arousal in the air and the wetness between my legs.
This is not a dream.
This cannot be happening.
My eyelids fly open, and I lose it.
“What the fuck!” I yell, throwing the covers back. I don’t have the courage to look over at him. Just seeing his hands on me is enough. I have to get the hell out of here ASAP. I leap out of his bed as if it caught fire.
How the heck did I end up in his bed, anyway?
He grabs me, his heavy arms locking around my waist when I try to scurry away.
“Nuh-huh. No you don’t. You’re going to stay here and let me cook you a late birthday breakfast.”
“Let me go, you fucking fucker.”
We wrestle for control, which only leads to me writhing against him and his hard-on. And once that solid piece of hard wood rubs against me, I instantly weaken. Danny’s penis is my fucking kryptonite. Go figure.
“Fuck!”
Danny rolls over me, pinning my wrists to my sides. His rugged beauty fills my vision. His Hershey-colored eyes carefully move over my face, regarding me like a treasured gift won. He flashes me a brilliant smile of triumph that sends my pulse soaring. God, he has a remarkable smile.
He rubs his nose against mine. “You should stop with the f-bombs. You know how much it irritat
es me when you curse.”
Deliberately holding his magnetic gaze, I grin up at the smug face I want to punch a hole through. “Then get the fuck off me, so I can go. You won’t have to hear a fucking thing out of my fucking mouth once I’m gone.”
His dark brows furrow, his playful expression suddenly turning solemn. “I’m never going to let you go, December. Ever. You’re stuck with me.”
Breathing heavily, I attempt to mask the emotions that are bursting inside of me. My heart thunders in my chest, wanting to break free of my ribcage. The beating is loud. I vaguely wonder if Danny can hear it too.
He bends his head slightly as if to kiss me.
I sharply turn my cheek to him, my dry throat constricting. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t do this to me, Danny.”
His warm breath continues to beat at my cheek, causing me to shudder. “Do what?”
“Do this.” The pleading in my voice can’t get any more desperate.
He leans fully into me. Danny molds the front of his body into mine, pressing his hips between my legs. He scrapes his teeth along my jawline. Pleasurable sensations spike through me, heating my blood. I cry out, screwing my eyes shut.
“Do what, December?”
Fine.
He wants me to say it out loud.
Cool.
Opening my eyelids, I turn to face him. His mouth is a breath away from mine. “It’s not going to happen. You’re not fucking me anytime soon. So get over it.”
He smiles slowly. “I wasn’t planning to fuck you today, little lady. All I wanted to do was taste you. That’s all. But now I’m thinking I should feed you. You’re cranky when you’re hungry.” Danny’s low tone suggests something other than food.
We stare into one another’s eyes for a brief eternity. My breathing is out of control, rugged and harsh. His is steady. I hate that he can do that to me. I hate that he can cause so many intense emotions inside of me while he remains cool as ice and watches as I become unraveled.
He loosens his grip around my wrists, his thumbs drawing gentle silhouettes up my arms. “Let me fix you breakfast.”
“Okay.”
His eyes roam over my face again. He seems skeptical. “You’re going to let me fix you breakfast?”
“Yes.”
The golden flecks in his retinas flare, and then he buries his face in the side of my neck and breathes in deeply. “I’ve missed you, December. So much. You have no idea how good it feels to have you in my arms. I’ve dreamed about this for many nights.”
Dropping my guard, I allow myself to hold him tight to me, my fingers curling into his soft dark hair at the nape of his neck. Danny’s all cut muscle and velvety-smooth golden-brown skin. He’s at least over six feet, and he’s freaking huge, thickly muscled and packed with impossible power. He completely surrounds me. Danny eclipses me. I get lightheaded breathing in his spicy musk. “I’m glad you’re safely home and in one piece.”
He leans back to grace me with another smile. “You missed me?”
Wrinkling my nose to conceal my grin, I touch his scar by his eye. “Why would I confess to such a tragedy?”
His mahogany-colored eyes grow serious and yet sad. “I’m sorry, December. I would have kept in touch with you if I could. Those four years were extremely difficult.” He presses his forehead to mine, closing his eyes. “It killed me every day not to hear your voice, not to see your face, not to feel you breathing against me. I couldn’t break protocol. It hurt me just as much as it hurt you.”
I have to swallow thickly because I might cry if I don’t. But despite the burning in my eyes, hot-red anger rages inside of me. It’s a dirty bubble of resentment that has finally popped. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You told Piper. She told me you both shared dinner before you left.”
Danny slowly opens his eyes, looking into mine for what seems like forever. Then his ever-present mask slides into place, shielding everything from me. “Piper’s off limits, December. You know that. I can’t tell you even if I wanted to.”
Right.
Piper, his ex-wife, is off limits.
She has always been off limits.
He gets severely secretive and protective when it comes to her.
It doesn’t help that she’s sweet as pie and owns a cupcake bakery in town.
My impenetrable wall comes back up. “Get off me.”
“You’re staying for breakfast?”
“Yeah, now get off me.”
The muscle in his cheek jumps as he stares at me. “Don’t be pissed at her. It was my idea, not hers. Be mad at me.”
“Oh, I’m not mad at her. I had four years to be mad at her. I’m angry at you, Danny. Not Piper. You. Now feed me or let me leave. You’re crushing me.”
He immediately pushes away, providing me with a magnificent view of his bare chest and his grey sweatpants. “Come on. Let me make you something to eat.”
I smack his hands away when he tries to help me up. Gathering my mass of long hair together, I tie it with the elastic band from my wrist, combing my fingers through my thick bangs. His white cotton shirt falls down to my thighs when I stand.
Danny’s eyes slowly travel down the length of my body. He growls low in his throat. “I love you in my shirt. Love you wearing my clothes. What a sight to feast on.”
“Feed me, Danny. I’m hungry,” I say, feeling numb from the neck down.
His eyes darken, settling on my lips. “Let’s get you fed, then.”
I watch Danny turn over flapjacks and scramble some eggs loaded with cheese and bacon. The smell of food causing my stomach to growl but my head is pulsing with a headache from hell. Hangovers suck. He slathers butter and apple jam on toast, piling a plate high with food and setting it down in front of me.
He pops my hand lightly when I reach for the fork. “No. Let me feed you.”
“Danny—”
“No. I’m going to feed you until you’re full. Now sit back and relax.”
“Whatever.” I smother the smile that wants out. “You’re so freaking weird.”
“I’m not weird. I just want you to eat from my hand.” With that said, he begins to feed me, choosing each item, one after another, with care as if the world might come to an end if I didn’t accept. He picks up a piece of toast and holds it out to me. I bite into it. He places the toast back on the plate, but his hand comes back, his thumb wiping the apple jam from my lower lip, leaving my mouth tingling.
I’m about to suck the sweet stickiness from my lip when he shakes his head.
“Don’t do that. Let me . . .” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he does lean in close.
My pride trumps the warm butterfly effect he has on me. I turn from him again. He kisses my cheek and then my forehead.
“Why are you so mean? When did you get like this?”
Shrugging, I push away the almost-empty plate. I guess I was hungry, but it’s not like I could stop myself from receiving from Danny’s hand with the intense way he was looking at me. “I’ve always been like that. Maybe it’s your fantasy of me that’s been lying to you.”
He’s all smiles. “I don’t know about that. Maybe we can test the theory, though.”
Well, that’s my cue. Pushing to my feet, I stretch and pat my belly dramatically. “Thanks for the food. I should get going.”
“Do you remember what happened last night?”
I feel my entire face frown. “Last night?”
He nods slightly, eating what’s left on the plate. “What do you remember?”
Not a thing now that I think back on it. My head hurts and the pounding grows heavier when I try to sort through the kaleidoscope of blurry events.
“It’s kind of fuzzy. I must have been wasted.”
“You were out-of-your-mind wasted, December. You called me crying. I spoke to Gray, and he told me which club you guys were at, which you didn’t want him to. You didn’t want to see me. But I drove there. Picked y
ou up. Took you home. Undressed you and put you to bed. You cried the entire time, and then you passed out.”
By home, he means his house.
Heavy dread washes over me.
Oh God.
I swallow twice and summon the courage to ask, “What did I say?”
He looks up at me, his expression pained. Danny forks over the eggs for a solid minute. “You said I hurt you. You said I was a shitty person for the things I put you through. You said you wished you didn’t love me the way you do.” He drops the fork with sudden revulsion, and then he brings his palms to his forehead and presses them hard against it. “You said a lot of things I really don’t feel like repeating.”
The guilt hits me hard. He had just gotten back home, and he didn’t need to hear me bitch at him in my drunken babble. “Danny—”
“You’re right, December. I don’t deserve you. I’m not arrogant enough to pretend I do, but it’s not going to keep me from having you, claiming you. You’re mine.”
“I’m not anyone’s, Danny. I’m my own woman.”
He grins a little, and all I can think about is kissing that mole on his chin. “You are your own woman. You’re going to be my woman too.”
Shaking my head, I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t think so.”
His grin turns into a smirk. “You can fight me all you like, little lady. I am trained to win.”
“I’m not yours.”
Because Piper is.
“You wear my ring around your neck. You saved yourself for me. All this makes you mine whether you admit it or not.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
No sense in arguing with the delusional. “Take me home.”
His eyes lock with mine. “You are home.”
Pitter-patter goes my stupid heart.
Damn it.
I’m not going to let him get to me. I refuse to be sucked in and consumed by Danny again.
“Take me to my mother’s house.”
His deep-brown gaze turns wicked and fierce. “There are plenty of things I can do to persuade you to stay, my tongue working between your legs being the first.”
Taking a step back, I bump into the refrigerator. The tips of my fingers tingle, and it has nothing to do with hitting my arm against the fridge. “No,” I say, breathy like I just finished running a marathon. “I want to go home.”
December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1) Page 2
