by Stahl, Shey
It sounded appealing but then I remembered I didn’t have a bathing suit. “Yeah, but I don’t have a bathing suit.”
Dylan shrugged taking one last drag from his cigarette. “So?” Smoke filtered through his mouth and nose as he spoke. “Wear your bra and underwear, or go naked, I don’t care.” He tossed the bud over the balcony and headed for the slider.
“Yes you do,” I sighed following him into the room.
“You’re right.” He winked. “I want you naked.”
Both remaining quiet, Dylan dropped his shorts letting it fall to the floor. Since he didn’t have a shirt on, he didn’t have to bother with that. Finding me staring at him, he smirked letting his eyes wander south, predictable when he was provoking me. “You coming?”
“Is it even open?” I yawned looking from the bed that was calling my name back to the boy, I wished was calling my name right now. “It’s like two in the morning.”
“Who cares?”
Clearly, he did not.
With a little hesitation, I stripped down to my black bra and underwear and stood in front of him, my arms wrapped around my stomach, insecure, nervous. My stomach flip-flopped waiting for him to say something, anything, nothing.
Shifting his weight from his right to left foot, contemplating, cocky, he winked running his hand down his jaw. “Sexy,” he whispered, eyes dropping lower to my thighs.
Even with my relaxed state, a rush of fear pricked my skin that he would find something he didn’t like.
He knew.
“Stop over analyzing it. Let’s go.” When he got to the door, he reached inside the bathroom for a few towels and tossed one my direction and one over his shoulder.
Through two gates and two sets of stairs, we made our way down to the oval pool and palm tree landscaping straight from the cover of that Hotel California CD.
While Dylan was completely comfortable walking around in his underwear, I wasn’t so confident in myself and kept adjusting the towel.
He noticed, of course he noticed. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to burn that fucking towel.”
Fearing he would, I stopped.
Reaching the edge of the pool, my black painted toes shined under the lights around the pool and the glow from the aqua blue below.
I looked down and realized a half a second too late that standing this close to the edge of the pool was a very stupid mistake. I forgot who I came down here with.
Walking past me, he kept his head down. “Looks cold.”
With a quick push from behind, I could attest to how cold that water was.
Yep. It was fucking cold. “Whatever happened to heated pools?” I shrieked treading water for warmth, gasping, trembling and pissed.
Dylan flashed a relaxed smile my way. “In a hurry to get wet?” he took a seat in a lounge chair a few feet from me. “I could help with that, yes?”
“You’re such a smug bastard when you want to be.”
Shrugging, he leaned back with his hands behind his head.
Though it was cold, the water felt good on my heated skin. After a while, and two cigarettes later, Dylan was in the water with me.
There was another part to feeling the liquid courage I had, confessions. It seemed I said what I felt or regretted.
“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you.”
Dylan nodded his eyes on the water.
“My parents wouldn’t let—”
“Don’t.” He closed his eyes. Breathing, calming, ice blue met mine. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t have a choice? You always have a choice.”
“You’re right,” I agreed moving closer to him. When I got close enough, I rested my hands on his chest over his dragon tattoo. “I’m not giving you any excuses here. I listened to them. I did. That’s my problem. I did what they wanted.”
“What about what you want?”
I thought for a moment and realized I had absolutely no idea what I wanted.
That’s when Dylan snuck his hands around my waist under the water. “It doesn’t make you any less of a person to have the time of your life.”
“Where were you four years ago?” I joked, kind of. Part of me was serious. After finding out the relationship I had with Eric was built on lies, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe I’d missed what was right in front of me. Just four days into my time with Dylan had me feeling things I’d never felt before.
“I’ve always been here, brown eyes.” His head dipped forward and kissed me once, the taste of beer and cigarettes stayed. “You just never noticed.”
My reply was quiet but the sentiment was not. “No, I noticed you before.”
“Oh right,” he laughed creating distance. “You had a crush on the bad boy. You know that’s just some imagine people see. They never knew him but they saw trouble.”
Just as I was about to say something else, a couple walked inside the gate and took up residence in the hot tub. Not shitting you here but he was so hairy it looked like he was sporting a fur sweater and she was so dark in skin appeared to be leather and she was a white girl.
Dylan looked at me, amused. “What do you think they’re saying?” he asked grinning. “I bet it’s dirty.”
The couple spoke quietly to each other, hands exploring, mouths touching. By the looks of their display, it was evident it was dirty. Probably not anywhere, near as dirty as Chaz and Reeper were.
“He’s probably saying, ‘Oh baby, I love threading my fingers through your hair’.”
I did the same to Dylan grabbing a hold of him and tugging on his hair.
He didn’t hesitate to wrap his hands around my ass holding me against him, his fingers dangerously close to my goods.
“Don’t fuck with me, brown eyes.” Dylan whispered against my skin, kissing my neck. His throaty tone made me wild and the rumble in his chest made me moan. “I just got calmed down from the bar.”
“Why not fuck with you?” I hedged drawing closer, my legs tightened around his waist. “I want to Dylan.”
Taking his hands from around my ass, he framed my face, his eyes on mine, serious, soul deep connection trying to be made. “You just got out of a relationship. A long relationship where the guy used you. I’m not going to take something from you like that just because I want you.”
“So you do want to…?” I felt silly for asking but I did. I didn’t want to be one of those girls that constantly needed reassurance but at times, I did.
Walking forward, he pushed me against the edge of the concrete, my back scrapped against the rough stucco. His hips shifted against mine, the hardness between my legs confirmed he wanted me. “Does that answer your question?” he whispered into my neck before kissing me deeply.
His kisses never failed to touch me to my very center. It was always something where I felt anchored to him. Whenever I kissed Eric, it felt like a robotic motion. With Dylan, it felt natural.
Before it could get heated more than it was, Dylan pulled away. “Come on brown eyes, let’s get some sleep.”
Damn it. With a heavy sigh, I followed. I understood his hesitation, I did. But I also hated it. I had emotions and feelings better jarred inside me and no way for them to be released.
When we got back to the room, Dylan immediately headed for the bathroom.
Laying on the bed, I tried to sleep but something inside me, that jarred part, was restless from the night. It was near three in the morning, the light coming in through the room was softening from the navy blue to lighter tones.
That’s when I heard a thump from the bathroom and thought that maybe Dylan had passed out in there. Concerned, I stepped closer to the bathroom door and found that it was cracked. Naturally, I peeked but I couldn’t see anything with the steam.
Standing there, nervous, my legs tingled ready to run away at the first indication that he might have noticed me standing outside the door.
I pushed a little but the door resisted. Looking down, I noticed the towel he used at the pool and his underwear on the floor wedge
d under the door. I stuck my head through the door and squinted to see through the steam, still nothing I could make out so I closed the door and sat outside it to listen.
Who wouldn’t?
With the noises, I was sure that he was doing something other than just your average shower. After all the teasing, I knew he had to have been touching himself.
That’s when I flipped over on my stomach and pushed the door open a little more despite the wedged clothes. Sure enough, there he was, arm bent at the elbow, forearm resting against the tile with his right hand trained in front of him. His chest shook as if he was crying, his muscles contracting and flexing, but I knew when his head dipped forward and he moaned that he was touching himself.
Fuck you steam, clear out of my way! Blinking rapidly, I tried to get a better view but he was like looking through a frosted window and all I could see was his silhouette which honestly made it that much more erotic.
Look at me. Just a week with those boy and I was using words like sexy and erotic.
“Fuck,” Dylan’s voice came out in a growl. Squinting again, I noticed his movements sped.
I felt the heat rush between my legs, jarred sensations spread like wildfire, I started to tremble, and my cheeks burned. My heart was hammering but I couldn’t move from my army crawl position. I listened as his moans rose above of the water, and suddenly he slammed his palm against the tile. “Goddamn it.”
Thinking he noticed me, in full panic mode, I scrambled to the bed. Panting, rapidly watching the door, I put my arms behind my head tried to compose myself.
As I waited, the heat between my legs was there, calling to me and remembering what Dylan’s touch felt like at the bar and in the pool earlier, and then my brain filled away those images of him in the shower and I was definitely not tired anymore.
As if it was on its own mission, my hand traveled south.
I heard the water cut off and the glass door banging open. When he made his way back into the room, his expression was tense. My hand shot up from under the blanket and it was obvious what I had been doing, but guess what, he was still a little hard. It was definitely outlined under that towel he had around his waist. I could see it. It was right there.
When he laid down on the bed beside me, I noticed he had put underwear on as the towel slipped aside.
Once under the blanket with me, our legs touched and his face relaxed and he inhaled deeply before grabbing me roughly and crushing my body to his. Welcoming this, I buried my face in his chest and clung to him as my fingers dug into his back and my leg rising around his waist.
He kissed my chest above my heart; his nose nudged the straps of my tank top and pried my hands from his back.
The slow need between us was building and we couldn’t deny it any longer. We both knew it. Something had to be done but I don’t think he was willing to let anything happen. His hips shifted and I felt him there, between my legs and moaned.
“Were you really touching yourself?” he asked his tone rough and needy against mine.
I nodded. “I was but I’ve never done that before.” I kissed him again and raised my hips slightly searching for that same friction I felt when we had been dancing. Only now, only the thin fabric of our underwear separated us. “I don’t really know how.”
Part of me, the extremely curious and hormonal part was praying he took the hint.
I pressed against him, grabbing his face in my hands and forcing his lips to part.
“Were you touching yourself in the shower?” I asked finding his mouth again.
Nodding, he moved his lips to my neck. “I tried, but, I want you. I want you so bad I can’t…fuck…” his mouth was back to my lips, his fingers digging into my hips and his pushed forward again.
Pressing back just as fiercely as my hips were pushing up, my legs parted to accommodate his hips and he ran his hands from my knees to my shoulders; roughly grasping me and making me writhe with need.
He grunted and I could feel him harder than before, we both stopped kissing for second and he looked at me.
His mouth moved to my ear, his fingers dug into my hip. “Is this okay?” he whispered still moving above me.
There was no way for me to form words at that point much less complete a sentence to respond.
Abruptly, he stopped and rolled over gasping. “We can’t brown eyes. I’m about to rip your fucking clothes off and make you scream my goddamn name,” he groaned in a rumble, “…but you’re not ready.”
I was about ready to rape him. I was. But I also knew absolutely nothing about sex or the ramifications it caused for a relationship, or whatever we had. Dylan was way more experienced in that so I left that alone.
Don’t get me wrong, I was extremely confused.
Dylan turned over to face away from me, his breathing harsh and labored.
“Why?”
He knew what I meant without elaborating and turned back to face me. He swallowed attempting to control what he couldn’t. “I don’t want to ruin anything that we could have together just because I can’t get your body out of my head,” he whispered watching my reaction. “You mean more to me than that, brown eyes.”
“But I want it to be you…” Again, he knew exactly what I was referring to.
“And I will be.” He gave me a nod still watching me. “But there’s no need to rush.”
I had some arguments about us stopping but I wasn’t going to push him.
Unfortunately, for me, sleeping me had some other ideas.
Sometime that morning before the sun had come up; I woke up feeling Dylan’s leg between my legs, and a rather nice tingling sensation down there. Looking around the room, the only light was the gray seeping in through the dark curtains.
My eyes grew wide in fear of being caught, like he would have woken up if he knew what was happening or heard the moan that escaped my lips when our position shifted slightly. His response was to lift his leg higher and my eyes rolled back. The friction was what I wanted so badly and he was asleep, or appeared to be.
I’ll be honest with you, and I’m sure you’ve gathered this by now but I’ve never had an orgasm. And if I did, I didn’t recognize it was that. After conversations with Mercedes and Jessica, I was sure I’ve never because as they described that earth shattering high that made you feel like goo, I never remembered feeling that other than the time I took pain killers when I broke my ankle at cheer camp freshman year.
Given my lack of experience in this, and the feelings Dylan was stirring up down there, more importantly, the last few hours, had me wanting one badly and the mere idea of Dylan giving me one when he’s not even aware of actually giving me one, was far more tempting than it should be.
Testing him, I tried to twist in his arms. My eyes caught the clock and saw that it was now six thirty in the morning.
His left arm was draped over me so I picked it up and then let it fall about three inches. Nothing.
Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself and tried not to focus on the fact that his leg moved again. Just when I was about to stop and push him away, he had other ideas and held onto me tighter, his thigh shifting again. So, while I was trying to be noble and not molest him in his sleep, sleeping Dylan had other ideas. Sleeping Dylan wanted to play…and well shit…I wanted to play too. I wanted that earth shattering high everyone talked about and I didn’t want the broken ankle to go with it this time.
“Shit,” I breathed softly as a sleeping Dylan moved again. I threw my head back due to the sensation of his warm skin against mine.
Sleeping Dylan’s hand that was across my stomach moved and traveled up my ribs, under my tank top and to my breast. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so guess who that was now touching my boob.
Sleeping Dylan.
Checking again to make sure he was still sleeping, I examined his face carefully, to make sure that he wasn’t awake. His head was forward, against my shoulder, his breath on my neck, slow and deep.
I nearly swallowed my tongue in exciteme
nt when his thigh moved again and his body shift just enough that half his body was on mine with his hips pressing into my left thigh.
Peering at him again, his eyes were closed. He was definitely asleep, because even though his breathing was turning labored and his lips were slightly parted, his face was calm.
Part of me understood I should move but then the other part wanted this so bad.
For a second, I almost felt bad for allowing this to happen and not doing anything to reciprocate.
Then I felt it, his hips bucked against my thigh.
He was hard. Sleeping Dylan was hard.
Awake, Bailey was wet, really wet.
Sleep Dylan moaned and that was like a switch for me. I couldn’t stop myself.
His movements were perfect. Without intending to, I allowed my hips to move with Dylan’s in order to increase the pressure between my thighs. This earned me a desperate whimper from Dylan and my eyes immediately flicked to his to ensure that he was still asleep.
Please be asleep…please be asleep. I knew if he were awake, he wouldn’t allow this. He would push me away and tell me some bullshit line that I wasn’t ready. Damn it, I was ready, I was!
After a thorough exam, Dylan was still asleep, much to my own relief. I clenched my eyes shut, fighting to pull away but also struggling to stay put in order to grab hold of that sensation…the one I haven’t felt before…the one that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time. So Cosmo says.
If sleeping Dylan was willing to oblige, who was I to refuse him?
That’s when his hand started to move.
Fuck me. My eyes popped open as I slightly bent my head forward in order to watch the progression of his hand, that was on my breast only a moment ago and now moving toward my panties.
That could change everything.
Humping his leg was one thing, actual hands on, that was something completely different. I considered pushing his hand away as I watched its decent with my lust filled eyes. But I was too far gone now, right? I was so close, and all I needed was that one last push, that touch that will drive me over the edge. That’s just in my head though, I’d never actually had one to know what it took to get there. But I felt something.
