by Stacy Borel
“Sure,” I answered, even though food was the last thing on my mind. I just wanted to move on.
“Let’s go grab some sushi. I’m starving.” He picked up his phone to read something on the screen. That occupied more of his attention than whatever response I was giving him. If he really was talking to another girl, I wasn’t sure I could handle it. He might be single, but I wasn’t used to sharing. And the kind of intimacy that I’d been giving him was something I only gave to someone who only had an interest in me.
I left the room to get my purse. As I stood at the back door, putting on my coat and boots, I rested my forehead against the wall. Get it together, Chandler. You’re not weak. Don’t let him do this to you. The sad thing was that I was feeling something for Dawson that I’d never felt before. He might have been making me absolutely crazy, but I knew that my attachment to him was so strong; that inexplicable draw he held was enough to make me bend to his will and stay no matter what he put me through. This was what I asked for, right? Emotion. I was feeling emotion. Who knew it would be so draining?
“Ready,” I yelled. And I went out to the car to wait for him.
Several days later, things between us had gone back to normal. I’d let him come into my room during the night, and we’d cuddle and kiss. I did my very best to move past the fight we’d had, and how he’d made me feel. It was a challenge, though. One of the biggest questions I had rolling around in my head was how could he go have sex with someone but had yet to take that step with me. It was wearing me down. However, on this particular day, I didn’t have a care in the world and fresh snow was on the ground. I was feeling playful and needed a breather from being stuck in the house all day. I suited up and went outside to do something I hadn’t done since I was a kid. I was going to build a snowman. I was halfway through making the most colossal ball of snow to be the bottom of my snowman when Dawson came home from work. He was looking as delicious as ever when he paused on the side of the house to watch me. I was busy shoving the mammoth ball that was half my size, and I heard him laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
Both of his brows lifted in amusement. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering what you’re doing.”
“I’m building a snowman. What’s it look like?” I replied sarcastically.
“Hmmm, I can see that. How do you plan on getting the next ball up on top of that one?”
I looked down at what I’d already managed to smash together. Shit, he was right. “Uh, lift it?” I said with zero confidence.
He gave me one of his genuine smiles that he rarely shared with anyone else. “Would you like some help?”
I scratched my head and peered back down at the mess in front of me. “No, no, I think I got it.”
“Well, by all means, princess . . .” He swept his hand out in front of him. “Continue.”
I started on the midsection of my snowman while Dawson leaned against the house and watched. When I’d packed enough of the frozen ice together and deemed it the perfect size, I pushed it over to the bottom half and stood back. Well . . . shit! There was no way I was going to be able to lift that heavy ass ball up on top of the first one without some assistance. Seriously, Chandler. Were you trying to go for a world record here with snowman making? Dawson’s eyes on me made me leery. Refusing to ask for help, I bent at the knees and heaved as hard as I could. The damn thing didn’t budge. I grunted and panted, attempting it again and again.
“I think it may have moved an inch that time,” Dawson teased.
I looked over my shoulder. “Oh, shut up. I’ve got this.”
I didn’t know how many more times I pushed and lifted, but it was evident that I wasn’t going to be able to move this thing unless I shaved it down, or he came over to help me. Only one of those options sounded appealing. Walking toward him, I went into the garage and grabbed a small shovel, passing back by like a girl on a mission.
“What are you planning on doing with that?”
“What did I say? Hush!” I grumbled.
I went to my incomplete snowman and started whacking at it. Chunks of ice were flying, and I was taking off larger pieces than I wanted, so I’d have to move around it to make it even. A hand came into view and took ahold of my wrist.
Dawson was laughing. “Stop, I think you’ve killed it.”
“I’m just trying to make it moveable.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“Hello pot, meet kettle,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What was that?” he asked as he tossed the shovel to the side.
“I said, no, I’m not.”
“Mmmhmm, I bet that’s what you said. Now move so I can lift this thing up.”
I tried to step in front of it and block him from doing anything. “No.”
Too late. He’d bent down and effortlessly lifted it in the air and set it on top of the larger mass of snow.
“You were saying?” he said egotistically. His chest puffed out like some big shot.
My mouth was hanging open. “That’s only ‘cause I took like half the snow off. I lightened it for you.”
His grin was huge. “Is that what that was? Oh, okay.”
Looking down, I saw one of the chunks I’d take off with the shovel. I knew what I was about to do was risky, but I was still feeling playful, even though he showed me up with his big muscles and his ‘oh look at me, I can lift five hundred pounds with my pinky’ attitude. With glove-covered hands, I reached down, grabbed the compact snow, and hurled it at him. It hit him directly in the side of his cheek. On impact, it exploded in the air and flakes of white clung to his beard. Ever so slowly, he twisted his head till he was facing me.
He spoke each word deliberately. “You’re going to regret that.”
My inner voice shouted at me, RUN! I took off in the opposite direction, racing to the front of the house. I knew when he caught up to me that it was going to be bad. Just then, a snowball went whizzing past my left arm.
“Ha! You missed,” I taunted.
Oh, shit! I thought I was well ahead of him, but after looking behind me, I saw that he was only a few feet behind me. Strong arms came around my midsection and lifted me in the air. Dawson stopped completely in his tracks and lightly tossed me on the ground. He came down on top of me, both of us laughing.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” he said.
“Not any more than you are to me,” I retorted.
He leaned down and kissed me. This one wasn’t like the kisses he’d give me every night in my room. This one was different. A ferocity exploded behind this one that screamed need and desire.
“God, the sexual tension between us is crazy.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about. I could feel it like it was a living thing. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that what I’d been craving from him for weeks now was about to happen. Every single one of my nerve endings was alight and I couldn’t have been more nervous and ready for something than right in this moment.
He was finally going to give me himself.
HIS HANDS WERE EVERYWHERE. Like actually everywhere. One second they were behind my back, and the next, they were moving down my thighs. I pressed so tightly against him; there was no empty space to be found. We’d managed to make it to my room and stumbled onto the bed. His lips were on my throat, kissing a path down to my collarbone while I had my fingers in his hair. Every inch of me tingled with anticipation.
I moaned when his hand cupped me. Nothing about the way he was touching me was gentle. It was domineering and forceful. But not in a way that frightened me. In fact, I would have done absolutely anything he wanted me to. Rubbing me vigorously, my hips moved in sync with the motion. I wanted more. I needed him to take away the things between us. Too much clothing. Grasping his shirt, I pulled it above his head. The heat of his skin warmed me through my own shirt. I loved that about him. He kissed me some more and tugged at my lower lip with his teeth. I was so worked up at this point, I could feel the wetness of my underwear and th
e hardness of my nipples. I was aching everywhere.
“Please,” I begged.
“Please what?” His voice was deep and heady.
He rolled me over on top of him, and I went to kiss him again. He grabbed my face and refused to let me go any further.
“No.”
“Please, I need you.” I pushed my sex against the bulge in his pants. It caused a deeper ache.
He was forcing me to look at him. “Tell me what you want.”
“Touch me, Dawson. God, touch me.”
I’d never seen so much lust in a man’s eyes before. “Where?”
I shook my head, my hair falling forward. “Don’t make me say the words. I can’t.”
I tried again to lean down and kiss him, and he refused to give me any leeway. “I want to hear it, Chandler.”
Time for a new tactic. Reaching down between us, I let my fingers slide between his skin and underwear. I touched the tip of his cock, and a small drip of wetness coated it. At that moment, I wished I could have been brazen enough to put my own finger in my mouth and suck it off. I wanted to taste him. Instead, for the third time, I looked down at him and went in for a kiss. This time he let me. I kind of liked that he had a moment of weakness and gave in. His tongue pushed into my mouth and my hips ground down trying to find some sort of relief. His hips came up to meet mine. He might be trying to maintain control, but I knew he was struggling.
Lifting my shirt over my head, I sat up briefly and reveled in the view below me. How in the hell did I end up with a man like this? From his tattoos to the dark lashes that lined eyes that I’d fallen in love with, plush lips, and a body that couldn’t have been more perfect if he had been plucked from my imagination. All of him was perfection.
Doing my best to unbutton his jeans with one hand, I managed it with semi-shaky fingers. I broke off our kiss momentarily so I could push them down. He lifted his hips slightly to help me get them off. I smiled inwardly. He was wearing blue underwear, and the waistband was sitting low. The head of his penis was poking out, and I briefly caught a glimpse.
Perfection.
Kissing his neck, I made my way down his chest and slightly nipped at his nipple, kissing a trail to his stomach. He laid back with his eyes closed and raised his arms above his head. He was giving me free rein. Okay, if I wasn’t nervous before, I certainly was nervous now. Going down on a guy wasn’t something I had much experience with. Not that I didn’t know how, it just wasn’t something that I did often, if at all, when Seth and I were together. I never had a desire to do it. However, with Dawson, the opportunity was presenting itself, and I was ready to devour him. Scraping my teeth along the edges of his V, I felt him take a breath. I hoped that meant he liked what I was doing. My fingers were inching their way up his thigh and under his underwear.
I needed these off, too. Finding some courage, I grasped both sides of the elastic and pulled down. They slid so slowly, and his cock sprang free, resting against his stomach. My only thought was, good God, he’s bigger than I thought. I’d been with only a handful of other men, and Dawson was by far the largest of them all. I knew that it would be a struggle to get all of him in my mouth, but it was certainly going to feel amazing when he pushed inside of me. Scraping my nails up the inside of his thigh, I traced a line around his cock and watched with utter amusement when it jumped slightly at my nearness.
I was lying on my side, and I glanced up at Dawson. I thought he had closed his eyes, but he was watching my every move. We made eye contact, and I felt my cheeks redden.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“What do you want me to do about that?” I’d never spoken in such a flirtatious manner.
“Off… now!” he demanded.
I pulled the covers up over my hips, refusing to be completely exposed, and proceeded to take off my clothes. I wished he would have done it, but at the same time, the atmosphere in the room was still slightly playful, and I didn’t mind. I kept my panties on just because I wasn’t sure if he meant get naked naked or if he meant just lose the pants. My black bra was still on, and for whatever reason, my covered breasts gave me slight security.
“Now what?” I asked, smiling up at the ceiling.
He rolled over to my side. Nudging my cheek with his nose, he nibbled on my earlobe and goosebumps broke out over my skin. Any spot in that area was a massive erogenous zone and he was hitting every little inch of it. Taking one of his free hands, he pushed under the covers and wasted no time in sliding his finger past the side of my underwear. I could feel my own slickness when his index finger rubbed against my clit. My back arched, and I reached out and grasped his bicep. He flicked up and down, coating me with the wetness. A small quiver broke out of me, and I was already close to coming. I wasn’t ready yet. I wanted him to be inside of me. I was past the point of need for it. I had zero inhibitions at this point. When you’re that worked up, the brain shuts down any other emotion except the ability to seek pleasure. Yanking my panties off, I boldly slung my opposite leg over his hip and straddled him. He wasn’t expecting that move.
He grasped my hips and held them firmly. “No, Chandler.”
Leaning down, I wasn’t above begging for it. I’d probably cry right now if he didn’t finish what he’d started. “Please, Dawson. Please. I want you. Please.”
“Are you sure?” He was breathing hard, and I knew it wasn’t going to take much to break him down.
I grasped his cock in my hand and lifted myself up high enough. He was holding me too still to come down right then.
“Yes, I’m sure. Now, I need you. Please.” I still held his massive size in my hand as I leaned forward and licked his lips, teasing him with my tongue. He opened his mouth, waiting for me to give him more, but I pulled back. That was it. That was the tipping point. I teased him enough to push him over the edge.
“I’m not wearing a condom.” He spoke too seriously for me to want to even acknowledge. But I was of the mind that I really didn’t care. I knew it was reckless and stupid. I knew that there was risk involved. Not just with pregnancy, but I had no way to know if he’d protected himself with the others. None of it fucking mattered. I wanted to act now and regret later. Because this was how he made me.
Crazy-fucking-stupid.
“I don’t care,” I ground out. He nodded. I knew this would feel better for him like this, anyway.
He lined his own hips up with mine, and I slowly fed his length inside of me. His size prevented me from pushing down hard and fast like I wanted to. Even though I was soaking wet, he would hurt me if I did. He was about halfway in when I lifted back up to continue allowing my body to adjust to him. He must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait my second time down because he held me immobile and slammed his entire cock inside of me. I gasped. It felt incredible, but pain came along with the pleasure. He did this several times, and each time, he hit that spot deep within that made me want to scream, but then a sharp pinch would cause me to suck back any sound.
It didn’t take long for me to reach my first climax, despite the discomfort. My toes curled, and my legs shook. I panted and softly said his name. He knew I was coming because he pushed up, rooted himself deep inside my pussy, and ground his hips in a rocking motion, drawing out my gratification.
My nails dug into the pillow by his head, but he gave me no reprieve. Dawson continued fucking me with different motions from hard to soft, and fast to slow. I came two more times, and I was completely and utterly fucked senseless. If someone asked me my name, I’d probably look at them and say, ‘I have a name?’
“Oh God, I’m going to come again. I need you to finish.” I barely got out the words as he pumped into me.
“Nuh-uh. This feels too good.” His chest was heaving and I could tell by his breathing that he must be approaching his own release.
“Yes,” I demanded. “I don’t know how much more I can go.”
He met my h
ips twice more and it tipped me over the edge. I softly said his name, while my legs threatened to give out. “Oh, my God, please.”
“Where do you want me to finish? Do you want me to pull out?”
Okay, I’d never been asked this question before. Seth and I used condoms when we had sex, and I wasn’t on any birth control. For whatever reason, when he asked me this, an image of what Dawson coming inside me could bring went through my head. The whole ‘regret later’ didn’t seem like a feasible option right now. Either I wanted this or I didn’t.
“Don’t pull out.”
At my response, his hands released my hips and took hold of my ass and he guided me at the rhythm he wanted—fast and hard. When he came, no noise escaped except a change in his breathing, and he shook slightly from the power of it. I teasingly let myself move up and down a couple of more times when I knew he was finished just to draw more out of him, but my legs weren’t having any more.
“We need to clean up,” he said with a chuckle. “Got a towel anywhere?”
Really? I was lying with my cheek against his chest, and he was still hard and inside me. I wasn’t ready to move. “No.”
“You’re pretty wet; it’s going to be a mess.”
“Shhhh… I can’t move. Hold on.” In other words, shut up so I can lay here and feel this.
He squirmed underneath me, causing him to slip out of me, and we both moved at that point.
“Gah, really?” I grumbled.
“Shut up and find me a towel.” He laughed. I didn’t find it funny.
I happened to have one on the other side of the bed from my shower I’d taken earlier and hadn’t rehung it. Using it to clean myself first, I then passed it over to him. I kept the covers high while he didn’t seem to mind that he was out in the open. Well hell, why should he? Male perfection. When he finished what he was doing, he searched for his underwear and put them back on.
I expected us to go back to our usual nightly routine—talking and sharing. It shocked me when, instead, Dawson rolled in the opposite direction from me and started to fall asleep. I laid there staring at his back, dumbfounded. There was no post-sex cuddling. No exchange of kind words. He didn’t even breathe in the same direction as me. He was cold, distant, and shut off. What did I do wrong?
