DEAN (Noir MC Book 3)

by Celia Crown

  Through instinct, she crawls over to the other side with him branding his gaze on her ass. Her face is even more red with shame, she shouldn’t be turned on right now.

  “Where are we going?”

  In an attempt to save her pride, she makes her voice firmer, but it’s ruined by her squirming in the seat. He jumps into the driver seat and slams the door shut with such ferocity that the whole car shakes.

  “Home.”

  Her heart thuds, a long silence stretches over them as he zooms down the streets. Her mind whirls with his answer as hope drowns her with happiness that a small smile quivering on her lips despite her efforts to stop it.

  She wonders what had happened during the few hours she was gone.

  Laura’s hair color changes in various forms of brown as they pass under the streetlights and into a familiar street. She’s been to his home before and she knows the address by heart.

  She risks a glance at him and sees his knuckles turning white at how hard he grips the steering wheel, her throat constricting in hesitation to watch the coldness lurk in his dark glare.

  He’s angry at her.

  Twisting her fingers in her lap nervously, she peeks at him with caution. Her lips open to say something to ease the tension in the car, but she’s scared to anger him further as she knows him better than he knows himself.

  He can’t have any stimulants that’ll snap the chain that restrains the berserker within him. Dean usually lets her soothe him with her hand in his hair and chaste kisses, but she doesn’t know where they stand at the moment.

  Dean knows she’s someone to him, but he is still in the dark about their entire past.

  She prefers to keep it that way, as she will never step foot into Nevada again after her mother’s wedding.

  Everyone has the internet to communicate, and her family likes to come to Texas to visit her as they know her job as an attorney doesn’t allow her much room to travel with all the urgent court cases.

  “Out,” he snaps, her heart gives a jerk in surprise as the ambers in her eyes reflect a sense of nostalgic when his house hasn’t changed at all.

  She swallows and follows his instruction. He holds onto her car keys, a clear message that she’ll not leave without him knowing.

  The layout of his home is exactly the same as she remembers; the three-seat furniture, the sandy-colored blinds, and the miniature apples printed mug she got him is sitting on the kitchen counter.

  When she turns back to him, she finds him staring at her with emotions too complicated to decipher so she trusts her gut and believes him to be calmer now that he’s in his own home where he doesn’t have to be on guard.

  “Sit.” Dean sets a hand on her shoulder and her legs buckle under his touch, her ass bounces on the couch as he chooses to sit on the coffee table with his shapely long legs blocking her escape.

  The warning bells in the back of her mind turn into a tornado siren because when Dean speaks with less than five words, it implies he’s holding himself together and not yell at her. It also means his patience is at an all-time low and he wants what he desires in the least amount of time and effort as possible.

  She doesn’t speak first, which is a wise choice as the storm in his eyes crackle with fierce lightning.

  Laura’s frame shrinks into itself at his unwavering gaze, thoughts flashing in his mind as he gathers his concentration. He’s going to interrogate her, to guilt-trip her, or simply use force to compel her to talk. Either way, the determination in his eyes steals her ability to breathe and her heart falls more in love with his need to keep her.

  “Where were you?” he demands.

  Her shoulders jump in shock and her startled eyes darting to his, and the upset tone couples with the narrowing of his eyes are apparent.

  “I went to get mom’s wedding dress.”

  She doesn’t understand why he’s so furious at her. Yes, they left off at an unbalanced grey area with his kiss imprinting her mind and her reluctance to let him in. There shouldn’t be any reason for him to have such heightened emotions fighting for dominance in his face.

  “Why did you come back?”

  “Well, I have to give the dress to her.” bewilderment clouds her face as she stands her ground to not break the connection that flows between them.

  He’s thinking again, and Laura doesn’t want him to make this more painful as it already is. She’s holding onto a thin line of her tender heart that’s opening up to pour out love for him.

  “I was fine without you, feeling fine just thinking about you.”

  A moment of silence and she takes in his word. It’s triggering something in her, and she’s closing her feelings again. Like the lawyer façade taking on a critical case.

  “You ruined my life before I even saw you.”

  Anger bleeding into his voice with hints of resignation. Her amber eyes fall onto her lap and focus on the little trembles in her hands, and blurriness takes over her clear vision.

  The realization of his words breaks her heart in half crudely. Everything is an endless circle of selfishness; fate’s forbidding intention of putting them in the same path, her own aching wish to be with him, and the inevitabilities of star-crossed lovers.

  She belongs in the light and he’s rooted in darkness.

  They just weren’t meant to be together.

  Her distorted view catches his dark pants kneeling on the floor, the taut muscles on his arm easily lifts her chin with her teary eyes meeting his furrowed brows and the concern swimming in dark hues.

  “I’m angry, I’m confused, but I do know one thing. You were mine. You show up acting like we’re nothing and expect me not to be mad at you for deciding on something that concerns me.”

  She murmurs lowly, unable to fight the defeat weighing on her. “I’m sorry.”

  Rough indentations of his palm smooth away the traitorous tear that tumbles down her burning cheek. The trace of aftershave and earthy wood whiffs in; it calms her, and no amount of replica cologne can replace his masculine scent.

  Warm lips kiss her with such gentleness that has tears streaming down her face with a broken sob.

  “I don’t want your fucking sorry. I want you to tell me who you are to me. You were once important, and I can’t remember why. I don’t know what to do. I want to be close to you and it hurts to see you, but it hurts more when I can’t find you, so don’t go places where I can’t see you.”

  He whispers the last part on her lips, his feelings envelop her in a security blanket.

  “I loved you.”

  A reminder, a confession of the truth, and Laura sobs harder.

  She’s cowardly, struggling to open her mouth. But, she’s a hopeful fool.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I can do it again. I can fall in love with you again.”

  Pools of her tears settle on the skin of his hand that’s cupping her cheek affectionately. She’s tired of the lies and the constant evasion of his inquisitive words, she wishes from the bottom of her heart that he can forgive her for being so selfish to shamble his life all over once again.

  “You shouldn’t.” she shakily smiles, tears brimming in her glassy eyes.

  Laura wants to go back to a time where things were not this complicated and painful, to the moments where it’s just the two of them falling in love and forgetting the entire world.

  “Someday when you remember, you will hate me more.”

  “What did I do?” he sounds angry, more at himself than anything.

  Even now, Dean doesn’t think she could do wrong. He’s never suspected her before, always gave her the benefit of the doubt and trusted him with his whole heart. She can only fault herself for getting their hearts shattered.

  She was too in love with him to tell him she was the intern shadowing the man who prosecuted him.

  “It’s my fault. Don’t blame yourself for something I did.”

  She blinks and tries not to cry.

  He kisses her, tipping her face up with hi
s hands around the junction between her jaw and neck. She’s vulnerable in his hands, the power he has over her should frighten her but she’s safe with him.

  His wide chest rumbles, “I can’t promise I won’t ever hurt you, I can’t promise I’ll always be the man you trust because I get angry and I do things I don’t mean. But, I will always love you.”

  The exact words he had spoken to her the day of his sentencing, only he knows what he said because he had whispered it in her ears before he was taken away.

  Laura chokes a whimper, thumping blood course through her clammy skin.

  I love you, I love you, love you so much, she chants that in her head.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said softly.

  Dean wraps his thick arms around her, burying her face on top of his steady rhythmic heartbeats, and her arms slings around his neck. Her tears are coming back again, blinking them away only pushes them out faster and with more vigor.

  She cries, he provides comfort, and their hearts align in unison.

  “Let me love you.”

  Unattractive coughs are the evidence of her ugly sobs not catching up with her fading breaths. Small arms tighten their clutch as if he’s going to unlatch them and walk away, it’ll kill her when he remembers and despises her for her actions.

  As for now, she’ll be selfish for the last time.

  Chapter Nine

  Dean

  He’s quiet, staring at her sorrowful amber eyes.

  He loved her; he wants to bring that past tense to the present and future. Dean knows he’s already in love with this amazing woman.

  It’s not the residual feelings that he clings onto from the past because it makes him feel safe, it’s the Laura in front of him that ignites a stronger and deeper kind of love.

  She’s familiar. She’s home.

  Dean needs to see her smile and be happy with him.

  That’s a thought that surprises him, and he welcomes it.

  “I won’t make you tell me.”

  Laura blinks, another drop of tear falls, and he wipes it away with his thumb. His knees digging into the pants’ rough material against the hard floor, he ignores it to favor the sharp inhales of her breath brushing across his lips.

  “I love you,” he growls when she shakes her head, denial is clear on her face

  She whimpers wetly, “You don’t know me.”

  Dean brushes her hair away from her forehead, moisture holding onto her thick lashes.

  “I love you,” he repeats, “I might not remember much, but I do know that I love you. My heart knows it and my body agrees. I dream of you and there was a time where I can’t feel anything but anger because this empty space in my head infuriates me. But then I dreamed of you and I can’t get angry anymore.”

  His lips find hers again, muffling her excuses to deter him.

  “Meeting you filled the void in me and nothing you did or can do will change my love for you.”

  The court records he got tell him everyone that was involved in his case; the man he put into a coma has woken up months later, the names of important key players, and transcripts of the entire case. When he got the files, he wasn’t looking for anything other than one name. The clerk thought he wanted the records for revenge, but he doesn’t want anything to do with the people in his trial, all he wants to know is if Laura was somehow involved.

  Her name was under the prosecutor’s name.

  Laura Lewis, legal assistant.

  She can’t deny their past when he has proof now.

  “I don’t need to remember to know that I’m still in love with you. I’ve never stopped, I was just lost for a while without you and I don’t want to lose you again.”

  He’s never been patient before, but he can start now.

  “If you need time to accept me again for something I’ve wronged you in the past, I’ll wait. I walked through hell once, I’d do it again for you.”

  The isolation of his prison sentence only allowed him one hour of the whole twenty-four hours of outside interaction. He doesn’t mind the loneliness that comes with it; it gives him peace when he replays every second of the hospital incident, frame by frame to see what hints she had unconsciously dropped. Hints to tell him to chase after her, hints to let him know that his love for her exceeds all bounds.

  He had waited for her for two dreadful years, that was nothing compared to her suffering. She knew about them and yet she was forced to keep quiet and stayed away from him for the sake of his miserable life.

  Dean will win her back, he will gravel and he will beg. Whatever she asks of him, he will do because this dissonance between his knowledge of her and his body’s yearning of her is irresistible.

  He could be confusing the old Dean’s feelings to the new ones, but his love is only for Laura.

  That much he knows.

  “Are you sure?”

  “More than anything,” he confirms with a solid nod.

  “What if—”

  “Don’t think about it. By some miracle I remember what made us separated, I won’t be angry because no matter what had happened, I still loved you through two years of my blank memories, and I love you even more now.”

  His lips find hers, tasting the salty tears that roll down her cheeks. His heart throbs painfully at the agony he caused her, he can do better this time. Loving her has never been hard, loving her till the end of time would be just as easy.

  She presses harder against his lips, molding their bodies together in a desperate attempt to hold onto him. He lifts her up, her butt hits his forearm as the other arm curls around her waist securely. Dean breaks the kiss as her small body shakes in his arms, his steps are soft and easy as it takes him to the master bedroom where he sleeps in.

  It’ll be hers too.

  He has no intention of pressuring her to have sex with him, he just wants her to be comfortable and get some energy back from the emotional breakdown. Her trembling ceases with each soothing rub on her waist, her wet lashes fans teasingly on his neck with her shuddering breaths interrupting her hiccups.

  By the time he sits on his bed with her in his lap, she’s woozy and out of it. This side of Laura strokes the fire of protectiveness in his gut; supple thighs under washed out jeans that folds at the side of his legs, she’s rubbing her face into his shoulders as a self-comforting gesture, and the neediness in her hands that holds his shirt into fists.

  She sits back onto his strong thighs and presses the heel of her hands into her eyes, applying enough pressure to make her eyes feel alive again instead of the fatigue that persists with blurriness.

  The silence between them is relaxing and calm, no stimulant anywhere to provoke reactions from them. Their eyes meet, emotions rolling around with profound affection lacing through her beautiful amber eyes.

  He could get used to her looking at him like he’s her entire world.

  He leans in and kisses her.

  She laughs into his kiss, trailing her fingers down his heated neck in reassuring pats that serves as affectionate nuzzles to the beast within him.

  In a purely instinctual act, his hand drops to her waist and rubs his thumb into the fabric of her shirt. It brings a fit of giggles out of her lips, the tips of her ears burn brightly when she notices his fixated stare.

  Dean allows his body to take over, leaving his thoughts to the back of his mind to enjoy the fondness of her experimenting touches.

  She begins with lingering kisses, innocent and wanting, then to shorter and frequent kisses that dawdle on the next kiss that doesn’t come.

  “You think too much,” he hums, throwing an arm around her spine to get her closer.

  Laura moans when he surges his hip up, grounding her pulsing clit with his bulge. Her thighs shake with anticipation as she rocks her hips in desire, she grasps his shoulders to stabilize her scrambled thoughts.

  “We can stop,” Dean offers, one word from her and he can harden his will to diamonds like his throbbing cock.

  She shak
es her head quickly, cheeks flushing shyly. “No.”

  His hands went to work on her shirt, lifting the fabric over her head and tossing it to the side. Her bra flies to another direction, he never once took his eyes off her round tits with perky nipples ready for his mouth.

  His rough tongue laps at one bud, she moans prettily while holding onto his shoulders. The other hand squeezes the neglected delicate breast with eager attention, rolling the bud with his fingers.

  She squirms in his lap, working herself on his cock as he groans.

  “Dean,” she begs, either for more of him or for him to go faster. He happily obliges and takes his mouth away to flip her on her back against the crumpled sheets from the morning.

  The button of her jean pops, she shimmies the material off her legs with his help. Her face goes up in flames when he watches transfixed as he spreads her thighs, the dark spot on her panties cling onto her folds. He’s quick and skilled when he yanks her panties away from her hips, jerking her bottom up from the bed before it plops back down with a squeak of surprise from her lips.

  Unapologetically, he spreads her legs wide apart.

  Dean has found nothing more beautiful than the woman he loves opening up to him, physically and emotionally.

  “You’re soaked,” his teeth glistens with a predatory grin.

  Dewiness sliding down from her puckering hole to his sheets, her folds spread lewdly for the little button to peak out, and the sweetness that flows to his nose. He falls on the bed, knees hitting the hard floor while he puts her legs over his shoulders.

  His mouth waters; an overwhelming desire to taste her sweetness and drown in her addicting scent. Living between her legs doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

  Not when he can indulge in her cunt on a daily.

  “Ah—” her mouth opens with trembling moans as his tongue dives between her pussy.

  It’s not enough, he needs more. The beast merges with his desire and he licks her with vigor, sucking and teething on her sensitive clit and sliding two fingers in her wet cunt.

  Her whole body twitches, pulsing walls grip his intrusive fingers that stretches her tight pussy open for his thick cock later. He’s rocking his fingers in with rapid thrusts that have her head throwing back and he curls his fingers inside to gift him a broken cry.