Danny (Models On Top #1) (27 page)

The real me.

He accepts me flaws and all. Without him, I wouldn’t be where I am in my career. He was my biggest support back then. He still might be now as well.

When I round the corner and look up, I smile seeing a familiar gorgeous face. Leaning against my building—flowers in hand. Casual clothes look anything but casual on such an incredible body. A gray beanie and sunglasses protect his identity from everyone, but me.

Mine.

As I get closer I see the scruff his jaw is working. It’s just enough that if used in the right way, I’ll remember the feel of it for days after when I cross my legs.

My pace slows though all I want to do is run to him, have his arms wrap around me, and kiss him.

He doesn’t hold back. Pushing off, he smiles then rushes toward me. When we reach each other, he does what I’m not brave enough to do—he puts his heart on the line and wraps his arms around me and kisses me.

And then I throw my heart into the ring and kiss him just as deeply right back. Because it’s
him
. Danny.
Mine
. His lips on mine.

Flowers at my back as he holds me the way I remember him holding me in Marfa.
I missed this. I missed him.
I thought his texts were nice fillers, but as our tongues caress again, I realize texts will never be a substitute for the real thing.

Our breaths—like our kisses—are exchanged. When air becomes scarce we reluctantly part. His beautiful brown eyes stare into mine and if I’m not careful I might fall under his spell and throw more than my heart into the ring. I might be willing to throw everything I’ve worked for away over those puddles of caramel love.

“You’re here,” I say, dumbly, because yeah, he makes me lose my better senses.

“I’m here, for you.” He pops the flowers in front of me. “I brought you flowers.”

Smiling, I take the bright red Gerberas from him. “They’re beautiful. You didn’t have to bring me flowers.”

“I wanted to bring you flowers. They always made you smile.”

“They still do. Thank you.” Not wanting to have this conversation on the street, I ask him up. We walk inside the lobby and wait together for the elevator in silence. My doorman greets us, but leaves us be.

Danny bumps my hand with his and looks down. When I look up at him, he smiles gently at me. My face heats. We step into the elevator, keeping a respective distance until the door closes. He’s on me—my back against the wall, his mouth on my neck, his breath warming my collarbone, his words pure lust in my ear. “I missed you. I missed being inside you. I want you, Reese.”

The doors open and he steps back. I take his hand and lead him into the hall. “Is that why you’re here, Danny? You missed my body?”

“No. It’s just one of a million things I missed about you. I’m just struggling to voice those when your body elicits such a fervent response from mine.”

My thoughts get lost under my own impassioned desires for him. I unlock the door and set the flowers and my bag down on the table. When he’s inside, I lock the door behind him and lean against it, gripping the knob to hold me in place. My heart’s racing in my chest, my breath deep with want, my thoughts in turmoil over what to do while I stare at the back of his head. Do I put the brakes on or go? He turns and his eyes meet mine.

Go.

Go.

Go!

I push off and run to him, jumping into his arms. My legs wrap around his middle, my arms are around his neck. Our mouths clash together as my back is slammed against the wall. His pelvis tilts and I moan. Through my pants and his jeans, our desire is felt—hard against soft. I need more, the need for him consuming me. “The bedroom,” the words stagger out between kisses, my desperation is heard. “That way. Go. Danny.”

His hold under my ass is firm. I feel secure in his arms and relax as he carries me into the other room. Pressing me against the wall just inside the door, he pulls back, and says, “I’m going to fuck you against this wall before I leave New York.” He spins me around, takes me to the bed, and sets me down. “But this time I want you to think of me every time you get into this bed.” He pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor, the beanie coming off with it. His hair is a complete fucking mess and as if it was possible, he’s even hotter. “Get naked, Reese.”

The command in the deep timbre of his voice is felt between my legs and I take off my clothes. He pulls two condoms from his pocket and tosses them on the bed next to me. “You came prepared.”

“I came prepared to make you come.”

My thighs clench from his words and I move up the bed. With my head resting on a pillow, I run my hands over the comforter as I spread my arms wide, letting my legs follow. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“Damn, woman. You’re gonna be my undoing.”

“Only if I’m doing it right.” My voice is suddenly huskier, befitting this conversation and the thickness of the sexual tension filling the room.

He kneels at the base of the bed, taking hold of my ankles. “I have no doubt you’ll do me right.” My head hits the mattress as he pulls me until my knees are bent over his shoulders. “But I’ll go first.”

The scruff I mentioned earlier…
Oh yes!
Hail to the scruff. I’m a believer. My eyes drop closed and my back arches as he scrapes the inside of my thighs, his lips taking possession of my pussy like it was his all along.

Maybe it always was… like other beating parts of my body.

My thoughts become quicksand, slipping under as my body tightens. Running my nails lightly up his neck and into his hair, I take hold, and fist. His hands are on my stomach, my breasts, my hips. He’s consuming me, his body owning all of mine, making me fall to pieces beneath him.

When he moves, my thighs squeeze together, trapping his head between them as my body reacts to the sensitivity in my post-orgasmic euphoria. Hands slip between my legs and he spreads them apart then looks up.

I shrug, and though I’m a little tired, I smile, feeling so good, almost too good. “Sorry.”

He chuckles as he kisses the inside of both of my thighs and then slowly removes my legs one at a time from his shoulders. I move up the bed and he takes a condom from on top of the covers as he moves up.

Coming down, he holds his body above me, only allowing access to his lips through a kiss, restraining himself, until he’s not. His eyes are set on mine and he says, “I’m going to make love to you.”

“Okay,” I reply breathlessly, craving his heat to cover me.

“After I fuck you, Reese.”

My eyes widen and my mouth opens. “Okay.” Only one word is needed.

He drops down on me as he takes control of my mouth, holding my jaw in place as he covers me with intense kisses. His body throbs, moving in ways that summon mine to match his rhythm.

With the orgasm he conquered coating his lips and tongue, I don’t think, I taste and feel, the act dirty and raw, visceral, and real. Danny doesn’t hold back. This is me and him, him and me in our most natural state. I refuse to feel ashamed for enjoying the intimacy of sharing ourselves this way.

Sitting up, he flips me over so I’m face down. Excitement is stirred inside me and I like feeling vulnerable to his needs, to his demands. I like giving him what he wants and craves from me. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, the condom wrapper heard right after.

Looking at him, he strokes himself a few times and then rolls the condom down his proud length. I turn back around just as his leg comes over mine, his cock rubbing against my ass. Both of his hands slink under my body, grazing over my breasts and sliding down until they’re holding my hips, and he lifts me up. I prop up on my elbows and his hands run over my backside and lower. Two fingers are dragged over my pussy and up until they’re on my lower back and one disappears.

A quick smack to my ass surprises me, my head jolting around. “Are we playing?”

“Do you want me to?” he asks, positioning himself at my entrance, the tip of his cock teasing. The sweet pressure makes me want to seat myself solidly on his lap, but his hold of my hips gives him the final say.

“I want you to fuck me like you promised.”

He slams forward, bringing my body to meet his in one fast motion. My head drops down, the weight too much to hold up under the power of each thrust. His fingers wrap over my shoulders for leverage and he keeps his promise.

Our bodies are slick with sweat and the sound of them hitting together is vulgar, animalistic, and so fucking sexy. He slides his hands around and grabs my breasts, squeezing as he fucks. They go lower over my belly. His thrusts slow as he weaves his pelvis behind me, hitting me deeper while one of his hands incites my clit. “Don’t stop, Danny.”

“I won’t, baby. I want you to come so hard for me.”

“God, so close.” I lift up onto my hands just as the twisting in my middle unravels, taking me with it. My whole body trembles and he continues to move, making it last longer.

My arms shake, weakening under the pleasure just as his orgasm hits him. “Fuck, Reese!”

He curls around me and I lie down, my head to the side, my hair stuck to my face. Maneuvering to the side I’m facing, he takes the condom off and disposes of it somewhere I don’t see. Danny lies in front of me. He reaches up and lifts the hair from my face, placing it so I have a clear view. With the gentlest of touches, he rests his hand over my heated cheek. I look at him through my sated state and smile. “Welcome to New York.”

“I’d say so. Best greeting I’ve had in a long time.”

I can’t stop the quickened beat of my heart hearing those words. I love that it’s his best greeting, of course, and how could I not know that after feeling his passion.
Twice
. Yes, I feel good. Best I’ve felt in forever.

Since we have been apart for ten years. I’m not sure I really want to go there, but I can’t help but wonder how many greetings he has had like that, and unfortunately my mouth speaks before I can stop myself. “How many greetings have you had since… since me?”

“Do we really want to sully the incredible time we just had with things that don’t matter?” He runs the back of his fingers over my cheek and down my neck. “Let’s just be two people getting to know each other.”

“I’d ask this of anyone I would sleep with.” The tips of my fingers glide over his chest. I’m liking the light covering of chest hair.

“I don’t want you mad at me. I still owe you a lovemaking.”

“I won’t get mad. I promise.”

Rolling onto his back, he rests his forearm on his head. “I don’t know, Reese. You sure you want to talk about this?”

“Is it that bad?”

“I don’t know what it is. I’m not one of those guys who keep a running tally, makes notches on bedposts, or any of that. If I had to guess, it’s probably over seventy since you.”

I swallow that down, then repeat more for myself, “Seventy?”

He sits up and leans over me as I roll onto my back. “See what you’re doing?”

“I’m not judging. I’m not mad. I’m digesting.”

“Shit. I should have lied. I knew it.”

“No,” I say, looking at him and reassuring him. “I’m glad you didn’t lie. I don’t deal well with liars. I’m glad you were honest, even more so because you were worried about me.” I scoot closer so I’m tucked into his warmth. He wraps an arm over me and his head drops behind mine onto a pillow. With a loud exhale I’m thinking he doesn’t believe I’m not mad. “Don’t stress. For real. It’s okay. I mean that’s like seven women a year for the last ten years. When it’s broken down like that, it’s not that many and you are a supermodel, so it could be a lot worse.”

“Two things: Did you just call me a supermodel? Secondly, did you just break down my sex life over the last ten years? ’Cuz when you put it like that, I feel like I’ve really slacked.”

Laughing, I nudge him with my elbow. “You did not slack. I’m just not going to freak out over something I can’t control. You were a free man and could do as you pleased. And I assume you don’t like being called a supermodel?”

I turn in his arms so I’m looking up at him. He kisses me, then says, “Just doesn’t really fit what I’m doing and I associate that term more with women, but it’s technically correct, so it is what it is.”

“I’m sorry.” I rub his neck. “I won’t use it if you don’t like it.” Lifting up, he also leans down and we kiss again. Moving a little so I can get a better look at his face, I ask, “You didn’t ask me my magic number. You’re not curious?”

“I know you’ve been with other men. I’m not naïve enough to lie to myself, but I don’t need any visuals or details. I’m fine living in ignorance when it comes to your life after me.”

If I’m not mistaken I think I’ve hit on another sensitive subject. Taking his face in my hands, I move my pelvis to the side to meet his, and whisper, “What was that about a lovemaking?”

The right side of his mouth lifts into a sexy smirk, but it’s replaced with his lips on mine. And round two begins.

WE TALK.

We laugh.

We make love. Again.

We fall asleep by nine and wake up famished at midnight—for food this time.

Danny Weston is irresistible.

Yes, he’s hot. Yes, he’s famous. Yes, his body is perfection. But he’s also adorable and so funny. I haven’t had this much fun in forever. He says, “Okay, this time, lie down.” He pats the marble counter. “Naked.”