The Reward

by Jade A. Waters

  “Mmm...that’s easy. Unpack. Relax. Oh! Take a bath!” I hadn’t taken one in our shared tub yet, and with how sore I’d remained after last night, and knowing the amount of hoisting and carrying we’d be doing tomorrow, it could only get worse. “That is so on. These limbs are overworked and aching.”

  “I bet they are,” Dean said, the lift of his voice indicating he knew damn well what cause I was hinting at. “But we’ll have to get full use out of them if we’re going for a cheer up tonight.”

  My body heated at the thought. “They’re yours to use however you like.” I cooed, then said, “I’m maybe thirty minutes away. Really sorry about the car, but I will do my best to take your mind off it.”

  “Can’t wait, Maya,” he said.

  “Me neither.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mid-Saturday morning, we parked the small moving truck we’d rented in the open spot in front of my condo, and I glanced over at Dean in the driver seat. I was sore and exhausted from the rough play we’d had before bed—a delicious promise of how fantastic this new living arrangement with Dean was, officially, every single day from here forward—but arriving at my about-to-be-ex-home for the last time hit me with a wave of nostalgia.

  “Okay. I’m happy I’m living with you,” I said, taking Dean’s hand and staring up the walkway to the door of the home I’d lived in for years. I rubbed his thumb. “But I loved this place. I’m going to miss it.”

  Dean squeezed my fingers. “Well, yeah. This was your home for a long time, and we’re just starting ours. It’s all good. Besides, I’ll miss it, too.” He brushed the hook of his pointer finger under my chin. “In particular, all the things I got to do to you here...”

  “You fiend!” We laughed, and while I gathered my purse, Dean got into the back of the truck for the box of cleaning supplies we’d packed to finish closing up my place. He’d spent part of the morning on the phone handling what he could with the insurance company to get the windshield of his car repaired first thing Monday, and though dealing with it had been the dark smudge on our morning, he’d hung up ready to turn his focus to our mission for the day: cleaning up, checking out and cramming the last of my boxes and furniture into the truck.

  At the front door, I peered back at Dean. He walked with the open box under one arm and the mop and broom in his other fist, and the view warranted a swing of my head. He’d slightly combed his hair before he dressed in his T-shirt that morning; it was a worn, gray thing that looked good on him despite the two holes I’d pointed out and the large stain on the sleeve. With the dark stubble he hadn’t bothered to address covering his cheeks, a smile spread over my lips as he joined me on the stoop.

  I waved from his shoulders down to his feet. “I feel like this needs a picture.”

  “What?”

  “You, with cleaning supplies. It’s way sexy.”

  Dean rolled his eyes. “Who’s the fiend, Maya?”

  I giggled and stood on tiptoe to smack a kiss on his neck, then I unlocked the door to go inside. With two bookcases, a desk, my bed and the boxes I’d stacked in the bedroom left for us to haul, the place was so empty, our voices echoed over the hardwood and walls, and the gust of wind that came in with us blew dust bunnies across the stretch of my hallway and into the living room. “All right. Ready to lift and clean?”

  “I can’t wait,” Dean said, his voice as dry as he could muster before the two of us set to work. We kicked off by carrying out the last of my furniture, me helping with the bed that Dean arranged in the truck, and then each of us working on the other items in trips through the house. We’d set up my sound dock in the bedroom, and on the occasions Dean passed by me, his biceps hyper flexed in their wrap around my various possessions, I caught him singing along with the tune. The combination of him working hard with me but still enjoying himself brought a grin to my face, and later, laughter when he made a show of fighting with a particularly heavy box he carried out that turned his cheeks red with the strain. I’d started eyeing the baseboards I’d been dreading scrubbing before he came back in and snuck behind me, curving his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my temple.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible packer?” he asked.

  I spun around. Dean was grinning. “I am?”

  “Yes. Terrible. Your boxes are way too full.”

  “Sorry.” I rubbed his shoulders. “Hopefully I won’t need your help moving again.” Saying it stirred up the flutter of my heart, and I snuggled closer to him while he cinched me tight.

  “Hopefully not,” he said. His agreement blasted warmth through me, as did the press of his lips to mine. We stood there kissing for a minute before Dean drew back and glanced around the empty house. “All right. What’s next?”

  I pointed out the baseboards and kitchen, which I was set on handling. “Then there’s the bathroom, clearing up the patio, that goddamn closet door,” I said, pointing toward the bedroom where my closet door had been popping off track every other day for months, “and puttying all the holes in the walls.”

  Dean followed the path of my finger as I gestured. “Tell you what, why don’t I handle those last parts while you do the baseboards and kitchen.”

  “Seriously? You’ll do the bathroom, too?”

  “Yep.” He kissed my forehead before turning to grab a few things out of the cleaning box that we’d dropped beside the kitchen entry.

  “You must really love me.”

  He winked. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.”

  “Yes I will.” I gave him an emphatic nod. “But you can probably skip the closet door. I told the landlord—”

  “It’s fine. That’s easy.” He smacked my ass as he passed by me to head back into the bathroom. “Now get to work, sexy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  For the next two hours, we scrubbed and cleaned, stealing occasional kisses or swatting each other with dirty rags, and snacking on the sandwiches and chips we’d brought along between our tasks. I went to town on my fridge about the time Dean slipped out to the patio to start tugging up the vines I’d gotten lazy with over the last couple of months, and with the great mix of songs blaring from the sound dock, I kicked ass and finished with an hour to spare before our appointment with my landlord. I stripped off my rubber gloves and leaned back against the countertop, surveying my old apartment. I’d loved this place to pieces, but empty as it was, and with Dean working away in the other room to help usher me into my new life with him, it felt like it was already a part of my past. The more I thought about it, everything that’d happened in the last few weeks—working things out with Ryan, seeing Charlie and being able to tell him to go away, preparing for the big move while watching my best friend enter her own new stage in her relationship—seemed like it’d helped close a door on a past I was ready to leave behind. I felt like a new me, in control and strong. Free of all the drama and ready to take joy and comfort in not only my new stage, but the one I’d share with a man I couldn’t wait to live with, full time.

  Inspired by this notion, I swung by the front door to make sure it was locked, then walked back to the bedroom. Dean had started futzing with the closet again, and when I ran a hand over his back, he peered up at me from the floor.

  “Finished?” he asked.

  “Yep. You?”

  He grasped the sliding door and jiggled it. “Think so.”

  “Good. Then can I tell you something important?”

  Dean’s smile grew as he rose from the floor, and when he curved his arms around me and drew me against him, I cupped his face in my hands and stood on my toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. I leaned back to speak, the gorgeous color of his eyes sucking me in all over again, like it had the moment I’d met him back at Selby and Alex’s barbecue so long ago. But it hadn’t been his eyes alone; it was his demeanor, his charm,
his sweetness.

  And now, all the love he never ceased to show me.

  “I feel so good about moving in with you, Dean. Like this is the next big thing I’m supposed to do.” He squeezed me, and I said, “Saying goodbye to this place, and saying hello to the best new experience with the most wonderful man. I think we should celebrate that.”

  Dean’s eyes brightened. “Oh, do you?”

  “I do,” I said, my voice low. “And I think that should start with you kissing me.”

  Dean didn’t hesitate, our lips connecting in a soft graze before I pressed harder. I slipped my tongue in his mouth, enthralled by my awareness of how strong I felt with him. When his tongue met mine, molten lava could have coursed through me with the fire raging inside. Dean’s body had never felt better, his tongue sweeter. I moaned against his mouth and arched up my hips, and he clutched my shoulder blades to kiss me deeper. God, he felt good. Powerful.

  Mine.

  And I was utterly, completely his.

  I broke from the kiss, breathless and unable to resist his body beside me, not even caring that he smelled musty from working around my house. He’d helped me, worked with me, and that, along with so many other things about him, was sexy as hell. “I want you to fuck me. Now. Here.”

  Dean’s eyes slit; his nostrils flared. The trail of his hands on my back grew heavier, his fingers gripping me every few inches, testing my body while that grin I loved started to cross his mouth. He laced his fingers up along the base of my ponytail, and when he circled his hand around the rubber band holding my hair, he tugged, lighting all the nerve endings at the base of my skull on fire. I stared at him with the angle formed and he pulled harder, startling me with how fucking turned on I suddenly was. How the idea of letting everything go had made me want nothing more than for Dean to fuck me, to own me, right here and now. The music was a fuzzy background to the intoxicating gaze on his face, and I taunted him with a desperate gnaw of my lip. Dean slid the fingertips of his other hand down my sternum, pausing to cup one breast, and the other. When his fingers reached the top of my jeans, he said, “Say it again, Maya.”

  “Fuck me.” I gripped the flesh of his back, then his ass. “Now.”

  Dean unfastened my jeans, his hold on my ponytail intense, the seal of his body along mine a smoldering flame. He didn’t kiss me when he slipped his fingers inside my pants and beneath my panties. He watched me close, teasing one fingertip down over my clit and rubbing hard while I kept my eyes peeled. He dipped a second finger down and in, and I groaned before Dean used his hold on my hair to pitch me backward, fighting against the bind of my pants to shove his fingers deep. I refused to pull my hips away, wanting the pressure of him, the force of his fingers. His thumb ground over my clit and he struggled to thrust his fingers inside again, the ragged sound of his breath making me ache before he drew his hand quickly away and plundered my mouth with a hearty kiss.

  “You’re unbelievably sexy...” Dean curved his hand over my ass, using his hold to guide me backward in big, slow steps. We hit the wall with a thud, and he pressed me against it, his fingers digging into my ass cheek while he kissed me hungrily. I kissed him back with such need, my tongue swirling with his as I clawed at the button of his jeans. In seconds, I had his fly down and my hand inside his briefs, and I stroked his length with a moan against his mouth. He hung on to my hair but snuck his other hand right back under the front of my jeans and against my cunt in an instant.

  “Yes. God, yes. Make me yours. I’m yours, Dean.”

  He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth when he shoved his fingers inside this time. I didn’t understand how or why, but I craved him more than I ever had. Wanted him to tell me what to do in the manner I loved and coveted, and with the deep, husky turn of his voice. Dean groaned on my lips with the heavy swipe I took over his cock, and I did the same as he slipped another finger inside. I was wet for him, aroused by the tug he made at my hair, the greedy way he thrust his fingers before releasing me to yank my jeans down around my ankles. He stood with a firm stroke up my inner thigh and between my folds, soaking his fingers in my excitement and grunting.

  “Goddamn.” His voice was the guttural sound I’d pined for. He thrust in me, and I mewled. Then he whirled me around, smashing me between the wall and his chest, his fingers pinching my nipples through my shirt and his full cock digging into my ass cheek while he worked his fingers inside. “I love that you know what you want. Being who you are...”

  “I’m yours,” I choked. I pawed at the wall and craned my head, needing his lips, his kiss. His fingers drove me wild, slicking my juices over my swollen clit, then driving deep to make me hunger for his cock inside. “Yours.”

  Without hesitation, Dean circled the back of my neck with his free hand and led me off the wall to the bathroom vanity. I shuffled my feet with my ankles trapped in my jeans, and when we hit the vanity side, Dean steered me down to bend me over the counter. The surface tightened my nipples through the layers of my shirt and bra, and my eyes popped open. I ached to see him like I felt him, dominating, sexy and hard, feeding his cock past my entrance with a grunt. In the mirror, his eyes shone as he stayed just inside, teasing me with tiny, electrifying pulses alongside the glide of his hands up my back and onto my arms. Dean caught me watching him in the mirror, and then he folded over me, guiding my hands up above my head into a clench beside the base of the mirror. He bit my neck and said, “You’re incredible, Maya.”

  He thrust all the way inside, the move banging my pelvis against the vanity’s edge in a tantalizing clap.

  “Fuck, yes!” His solid cock stretched me open, and I trembled, my eyes open while Dean stayed anchored inside. He straightened his torso with a drag of his nails along my arms. I pressed my mouth into the counter, loving that he hadn’t bothered to undress me, that his jeans scraped against my ass and my clothes felt so constricting around my ankles. The bathroom smelled of cleaner and us of sweat, but I didn’t care. I wanted Dean in me forever, taking me, making me his. I arched my ass up when he retreated to thrust deep again. He caressed my sides before slipping a hand between my pelvis and the counter, and his sweep of my clit drove me wild.

  “You’re so hot inside.” He plowed forward again, digging his fingers deeper, his force driving my chest along the counter and his mouth coming down to my shoulder. His teeth gripped my flesh even through my clothes, and huddled like we were, the sound of our breaths echoed off the mirror and into my ears. I was already so wound up that I felt my walls beginning to shake, and Dean sped his thrusts and the swipe of his fingers, taking a second to pinch my clit before he bit my back again. I jerked against him, pleasure rising in me, bliss swarming my senses when he continued to drive inside. Dean had to have felt it—me quivering hard around him as he kept his hips tight against my ass, his cock deep while he rubbed my clit and urged me on with his groans to make me writhe on his cock.

  “Oh, God, yes!” I moaned, overcome, shuddering in a violent wave and curling my fists with my wail. Dean didn’t cease the rub of my clit, his cock rooted inside while I spasmed around him. When he bent to whisper against my back, I closed my eyes.

  “Yes. Come on me, sexy.”

  I lost myself on the feeling of him inside, and the thrusts he made once my orgasm started to subside. My lips were numb, my body hot. Dean took away his fingers and grabbed onto my ponytail, yanking hard to fuck me faster, and I loved it. The way his body pinned me in place, how his hand jerked my head back in opposition to the thrusts of his cock. He smacked my ass, hard, then did it again, riding me at a ferocious pace, his hips slamming on my ass to pound my pelvis against the countertop. The edge of it stung but turned me on, too, and I cried out for him.

  “Yes, fuck me. Yes!”

  “Christ, yes.”

  Dean’s motions had grown spastic, his breath loud and gusty, audible over the music. His hold on my hair stayed firm while he
dragged his length in vicious thrusts inside my sensitive cunt, and tendrils of sensation swirled into my torso and down my legs. He started to grunt, and I urged him on with my own moans—because I thrived on this, him, how he could fuck me and use me, and yet still make me feel like the most powerful, needed woman in the world.

  “Fuck, I’m going to...” Dean groaned and shoved in to the hilt. He exploded inside in a burst of heat that jerked my shoulders up to my ears, then collapsed over me before both of us trembled on the counter. His breaths were a melody near my ear, and even with my arms cramped and bent up in the narrow space between the bathroom mirror and my head, I didn’t want to move. I wanted to savor the feel of him and how I soared when he was inside me.

  For a long time, we stayed folded over the counter, my limbs tingling and my body numb. Cleaning agents and the rich smell of sex wafted into my nose, and a trickle of sweat ran along my hairline from being beneath Dean in such a compact space. When his cock softened and slipped out, Dean drew back with a groan. I didn’t move until he’d tucked himself away and run his hands in a gentle, loving caress along my bare hips and over my low back. He slipped his hands up my sides to circle my forearms, and once he guided me up, he spun me to face him, sitting me back on the countertop while he rubbed my arms between us. The deep laps of his kisses soothed before our come started to dribble down my leg in a delectable trail that made me grin.

  I opened my eyes. “Thank you.”

  Dean cocked his head. “For?”

  “Just...you. The way I feel with you.”

  I kissed him lightly. Dean stared into my eyes and stopped the rub of his fingers to catch my hands in his. He whispered, “It’s all you, Maya. I love you.”

  I swayed my head, brushing my lips on his. “I love you, too.”

  Dean pressed a palm to my cheek, and I tilted into it, his body comforting this close. We had only a little time until my landlord would arrive, but all I wanted for a while was to hold on to Dean, luxuriating in his kisses and the way I felt in his arms, because what I’d found in him was the answer to every doubt, worry and fear I’d ever had.