King Stud

by Liv Rancourt

  And she’d never felt better.

  “Damn, young man.”

  Easing himself out of her, his muttered ‘shit’ clashed with her mood.

  “What?” Looking over her shoulder to see his face took almost more energy than she had left.

  He pulled them both up to standing, wrapping his hands around her ribs and turning her gently. He tipped his head to rest it against her forehead. “Went bareback. I forgot.”

  She laid a palm against his cheek, chuckling from some deep and very satisfied place. “Oh well.” She tipped her head back to kiss him, her lips tender after his ferocious attack. “I’m clean, and I’m on the pill.”

  “I got tested last month.” He folded against her and pulled her close.

  They fumbled out of the rest of their clothes, their brief attempt at conversation fading away. They’d gone at it hard, found a place so raw and open that in the afterglow, Danielle didn’t know how to get back to safety. Showing Ryan her naked body had been no problem compared with showing him her naked soul.

  “Do you want a shower?” Ryan asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, as perfectly gorgeous as some Italian Renaissance statue.

  She sat down next to him and put her hand on his thigh. “Later.” They needed to talk, and she had a sense that if she left the room now it would take them a long, long time to handle this level of intimacy. “Are you okay?”

  He flopped back on the bed, his arms spreading out over his head. He either sighed or swore, then lay quiet. Danielle stretched out next to him, supporting her head on her hand. The low light played up the bricks across his abdomen and the scattering of dark curls over his chest. She bent her leg across his thighs, bringing her lips right up close to his scruffy sideburn. “So you want to hear what I think?”

  He flinched like her breath tickled. “Sure.”

  Was Ryan okay? “For something like ten years you dated a woman with an alcohol problem. I don’t remember much from my psych nursing classes, but I do know addicts are terribly unreliable. They say they’ll do something, and then they flake.” She paused, giving him time to interrupt, tuning in to the depth of his breathing and the earthy, sexy smell of his body. “Your experience with Cherry taught you the value of a person’s word, and now you’re kind of a freak about it.”

  “Yeah.”

  That one, heavy syllable walloped her. She wanted to cuddle him close and kiss all the bad stuff away.

  “And then you thought I was messing with you.”

  His hand moved up over her thigh, tugging it higher to cover his groin. She slid it back down, pretty convinced they both needed for her to keep going.

  “You’ve been so straightforward, and all I could think about was why it wouldn’t work. Mix in your temper, and we have a clusterfuck.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you drop an eff-bomb before.”

  She burrowed in closer, her head on his chest. “The last couple weeks pretty much earned it.” Putting a sideways kiss on the closest available bit of his skin, she looked up to get a read on his expression. “Is my assessment good?”

  “Yeah.”

  The same syllable, but much lighter. He hugged her tight. “I might have overreacted a little. I do have a temper.”

  “You do.”

  “So do you still think it won’t work?” he asked.

  Tough question. A momentary chill brought her down. “I’m always going to be nine years older than you are.” She nuzzled the dark hairs on his chest, allowing the contact to warm her. “But I’m not going back to L.A. And Maeve’s not a huge fan, but she’s getting over it.”

  Ryan shifted again, drawing her in for a kiss. His knuckles brushed her nipple, and the tamped-down heat in the pit of her belly flared up.

  “Lemme finish.” She tugged his hand away from her breast. “I think part of the reason I keep throwing excuses at you is because of the way Braden left.” She sighed and nuzzled and reached for the guts to spell it out to him. “He just … left, after over five years.”

  “Damn.”

  “I mean, at least I know if you ever leave, you’ll tell me why.”

  Ryan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest. “So maybe that’s our promise. If either of us is going to do something crazy, we gotta tell the other one why.”

  Danielle thought for a moment, then raised her fist.

  Ryan bumped it gently with his. “Are we done talking now?” he asked, rubbing up against her, his cock hard and full.

  “Already? Stud.”

  He rocked his hips up and pushed down on her thigh, pinning his cock between his belly and her leg. “I don’t have to put it in you if you’re sore. We can find other ways to play.”

  “Or we can do this.” She scrambled up and coaxed him into leaning against the headboard. She straddled his thighs, a position that exponentially increased their intimacy. Face to face. Belly to belly. Heart to heart.

  He teased her sex, flicking and stroking with strong, calloused fingers.

  “Oh my God you’re good.” Shivering an exhale, she ran her tongue along the edge of her upper lip.

  His eyes were half closed and he had just enough of a grin to show one small dimple. She reached out and stroked him, long and strong and steady. “You’re letting me tell you what to do.”

  The other dimple made an appearance. “Maybe.”

  “I think you are.” She rose up on her knees, grasped his shaft, and poised herself over him.

  “Maybe I want you to think that.”

  He might have had more to say, but she dropped onto him in one extended slide. A guttural sound, deeper and heavier than a groan, vibrated through him.

  “Izat right?” She rocked her hips against him, let him spread her, fill her, stretch her. She flowed back and forth, up and down, making small circles with her hips until a glow started building down deep. “You’re not all that bossy.” She came off her knees and pulled him up, wrapping her legs around his waist, taking him deeper. She met his gaze and allowed him to see the scope of her feelings. “Maybe I’m in charge after all.”

  With a wild cry, he flipped her onto her back. “Gimme these.” He gripped her calves, setting her legs against his shoulders and driving himself in. “I.” He thrust again. “Am the.” And again. “Boss.”

  His cheeky grin undercut the severity of his words.

  He set up a steady, rocking pace, and she clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. For all her independence, she secretly loved feeling overpowered, possessed. If they came home, she didn’t want Niall and Chubb to hear her yell you feel amazing and you move like a maniac and oh my God you’re going to make me come. She especially didn’t want them hearing her yell I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

  The glow swelled until it took over. A warm buzz drove out thought, and all she wanted was more and harder and deeper. On a breath, she tipped over into a climax so absolute it was nothing and everything at once.

  He kept moving, giving her a cornerstone to rebuild herself around. When she could peel her eyes open, his expression almost stopped her heart. His feelings for her were right there to see, and while neither had come out and said the ‘L’ word, it was present, as close as the slick sweat sliding between their bodies. He rolled against her, a driving wave, each thrust a little harder, deeper, and faster. Abruptly, the motion stopped. He went totally rigid, head bowed, brows drawn together, and lips opened in a soundless scream.

  Danielle caught him as he came down from his climax, hands in his hair, legs down around his waist. On each exhale, she hummed, purring like a very satisfied cat.

  “You’re going to move in,” Ryan mumbled. “This is a thing now. We’re a thing.”

  “But you’ve got a houseful of people living here.”

  “They can sleep on the damn street. I’m kicking ‘em out after dinner.” He pulled her closer, one hand casually cupping her breast.

  “What about the cat?” She grinned into the dark
.

  “Chubb’s cat.” Ryan’s words came out slurred, like he was on the cusp of falling asleep. Then his stomach rumbled, and he struggled to sit up. “Are you hungry? I’m thinking Indian food. There’s a good restaurant down on Roosevelt.”

  “Sure. Indian food sounds good.” Danielle couldn’t help herself. She started to laugh, real amusement fueled by a bright, elemental joy beyond anything in her experience.

  “Anybody need another beer?” Ryan asked, hoping no one took him up on the offer. He shoved the front door with the flat of his hand, shutting it with a bang.

  Chubb lounged against Eamon’s Nissan Leaf with a grin designed to get under Ryan’s skin. “I want one.”

  “You can get your own.”

  Ryan was the last one to join the party on the front lawn because he’d made a final sweep of his house. Even though it was the end of February, the weather had cooperated with their project and granted them a day of warm weather. Eamon sprawled across the grass, Niall had parked it on the front steps, and Dani and Maeve sat side-by-side on the open tailgate of his pick-up, a funky Goth girl hanging out with a movie star.

  Ryan was pretty damned proud that the star would be going home with him.

  They’d spent most of the day moving Niall’s furniture from the house he’d shared with his ex to Ryan’s old house, but for the last hour or so, they’d loaded the back of the Ford F250 with most of Ryan’s possessions.

  He and Dani would unload the truck at her grandmother’s house.

  Maeve and Dani got into a wrestling match over Maeve’s phone. “Don’t lie to me, girlfriend,” Dani said, with a giggle that prompted an echoing smile from Ryan.

  Maeve held her phone as far away from Dani as possible. “Bitch.”

  “You’re totally texting Christopher.” Dani lunged across Maeve’s lap, her hoodie flapping open to give Ryan a sneak peek at her curves. Heat started to build, down deep, fueled by the excitement of taking their next big step.

  “I am not.” Maeve’s squeal had a snide echo from Chubb.

  The women kept bickering, and Ryan downed the last of his beer. He wanted to leave, to get down to Perkins Lane, to start the next stage of his life.

  “I was reading an email from Mom,” Maeve said. “She wants to know if any of us want to go to Joey’s graduation in June.”

  “I said I’d go,” said Eamon.

  “Well since we’ve all seen you graduate how many times, I guess it’s fair,” Maeve said.

  Eamon’s raised eyebrow told her exactly how little he cared for her snark. “I’m pretty sure I only saw you in the audience once.”

  Ryan jumped in to defuse their bickering. “I’m thinking about going.” His inflection made it a question, and his eyes were on Dani.

  “Sure.” Dani’s wide smile pretty much promised to follow him anywhere. “Where are we going again?”

  “Notre Dame,” Ryan said.

  Maeve left off glaring at Eamon when her phone buzzed.

  “It is a message from Christopher,” Dani said, delighted. “I told you so.”

  They went back to wrestling, and Ryan downed the last of his beer. “I’m thinking we should head over to Magnolia soon, Dani, so we can get stuff unloaded before it gets dark.”

  “Aw…” Dani stretched her arms up over her head, unconsciously teasing Ryan with an even better look at her curves.

  “Can’t we sit here in the sun for a little while longer?” she said.

  “I’ll follow you down and help you unload,” Niall said.

  Eamon scraped a hank of hair out of his face. “I can help for a bit, too.”

  “All right.” Dani hopped off the tailgate, leaving Maeve and her phone and lifting into a whole-body stretch that momentarily distracted Ryan from his afternoon agenda. Eamon and Niall climbed into Eamon’s Leaf and after a moderate amount of complaint, Chubb climbed in the back.

  “I gotta go … do … something.” Maeve jumped off the tailgate and headed for her car. “I’ll see you all later.”

  Ryan cut her some slack, figuring she’d only bitch about him living with Dani anyway. He took one last look at the house, tossed his key to Niall, and climbed into his truck. “You ready?” he asked Dani.

  She buffed his cheek with a kiss. “Yes.”

  “This is your last chance to back out.”

  “Back out?”

  Her laughing surprise reassured him more than her words.

  “I can’t wait,” she said.

  “Good.” He put the car in gear, flustered by how right things felt between him and Dani. This might be the first night they’d officially share an address, but as far as Ryan was concerned, he was in it for good.

  For better. For worse. Forever.

  The End

  www.liv-rancourt.blogspot.com

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  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com