Waiting for You (16 page)

 “Oh shit.” I
squealed through clenched lips and closed eyes as tide after tide of pure
ecstasy ripped through my body. The movement of my hips became irregular as I
rode out the ripples consuming me.

I had been missing
out on so much!

“Oh my,” I released
in a long breath I’d been holding through my mind blowing rapture as every part
of my body relaxed into a lazy, limp state. That was…there are no words to
describe how that was.

“Brown
eyes?”
A breathy voice left my body rigid in fear.

Dylan sat up on his
elbow and looked down at me; his messy hair tussled by sleep, staring at me
questioningly. He frowned in confusion taking in my appearance, my cheeks
burning at an intensity it never knew before.

His lips were split
by an enormous yawn as he stretched his arms above his head, his defined chest
heaving lungs full of oxygen. “Hey,” he offered with a small smile and watched
me warily.

“Hi.” I squeaked in
dread wiping my hair that stuck to my forehead due to the sweaty exertion.

Oh please tell me
you didn’t wake up…during… Please tell me you don’t know. Please, please,
please.
I internally beseeched, sounding much the same as a few moments earlier when I
didn’t want him to stop.

The memory made the
blush on my cheeks spread rapidly to my neck and chest. My lips even felt hot.

“Are you okay?” he
asked with a small frown pulling between his eyebrows.

I watched him
suspiciously, looking for any signs that would indicate that he knew what I just
did. The fear of being caught was smothering my throat and my blood was
coursing through my veins causing a dull ringing noise in my ears.

He shrugged lazily
and rubbed his abs absentmindedly with one hand. My eyes followed the movement
watching his body. The same body I used for my own pleasure a second ago. I
felt my mouth turn dry in guilt. Unwillingly my eyes moved lower and saw that
he was still excited. I quickly looked up to find another confused frown on his
face before he lowered his eyes.

Dylan chuckled
lifting the blanket higher to cover him.

He said nothing but
stared at the ceiling and then looked at the clock. Part of me was starting to
believe he had truly been asleep through all that and I relaxed slightly
settling back into the bed.

Dylan sighed
dramatically and rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Are you hungry?”

“Sure.” I watched
him watching me with glassy eyes, staring at me pensively.

He frowned deeply
in response and this time I couldn’t help the giggle escaping my mouth. Turning
to face me, he never broke eye contact.

There was a
stampede of butterfly wings in my stomach as I stared at him dumbstruck.
Cupping my face, his thumb slowly moved over my cheek and stroked gently.

“So beautiful,” he
mumbled thoughtfully as his eyes scanned my face and stopped at my bottom lip,
which I was biting unintentionally. He moved his thumb to my mouth and gently
pried my lip from between my teeth slowly running his thumb over my bottom lip
in a caress.

“You do that when
you’re nervous, did you know that?” He asked gently as he lifted his eyes to
mine. “Do I make you nervous, brown eyes?” I swallowed thickly as his eyes
seemingly darkened and the intensity of his stare multiplied. He was looking at
me, unblinking, and my whole body was buzzing with a feeling of exhilaration I
had never felt before with the heat of his stare. Everything about Dylan was
drawing me in, making me push further and further to see what would happen.

“No, you don’t make
me nervous,” I said holding his stare.

What I really
wanted to say was,
“Yes you make me nervous. I just dry humped your leg!”

I didn’t say that
of course. My voice was gone.

Dylan dropped his
hand from my face and rolled onto his back.

Staring at the
ceiling blankly, I realized how Dylan had no idea how much power he was
starting to have over me. It excited and frustrated the hell out of me. I left
home to see who I was but now, I was so fucking wrapped up in Dylan it was
infuriating.  

“Brown eyes,” Dylan
whispered.

I turned to look at
him with a start and found his head turned in my direction. Swinging his arm
heavily over my torso, my breath caught at his unexpected movement and I
immediately turned rigid in his grip. He slowly moved his head to my shoulder
and rested it there, breathing heavily into my neck. “I was awake,” he
whispered so softly in my ear that I needed to ask him to repeat himself.

“I said,” he
drawled, causing a shiver to run up my spine as his soft lips grazed the shell
of my ear, “I was awake.”

My heart was
hammering in my chest as I considered his words.

“This morning,” he
breathed huskily into my ear, and to emphasize his confession, he slowly moved
the hand he had draped over me and placed it gently between the juncture of my
legs. My hips automatically moved against his hand partly in recognition of the
want boiling inside me and partly in shock. I gasped audibly, blood coursing
through my ears and filling the silence of the room with a faint hum.

“Damn it.” I
breathed in absolute mortification and pleasure as Dylan decided to move his
hand once, before lifting his hand back to my side.

“
Mmm
-hmm,” he nodded and lifted his head slightly just as
his hand grabbed the back of my neck firmly, turning my face toward him. I
stared at him in silence unable to form a coherent thought not to mention
defend myself for my slutty actions. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes hooded
for the same reason I found myself panting beneath his stare. Here it was
,
that spark between us that we couldn’t ignore. It didn’t
matter how hard we tried, it was there and unavoidable.

“You owe me,” he
murmured before he crashed his lips to mine. His lips were harsh and yet
incredibly soft as he smothered me with his passion. He pulled back before I
had a chance to kiss him back, or push him away. And then he was swinging his
legs around the side of the bed and smirking over his shoulder. “Let’s eat.”

I pulled a Dylan
move bringing the blanket over my head and groaned.

8.
     
Tell me a secret – Bailey Gray

After
that morning and my dry humping sleeping Dylan, he spent most of the day
teasing me as we made it to Oklahoma City to stay the night. I started off
being embarrassed by it but Dylan had a way of making me feel comfortable about
it, despite the teasing, by whispering all the dirty things he was thinking
with his eyes closed. That morning, cuddled up against him in the seat, you
would have never known that just a few days ago we were still in high school,
not talking, living separate lives. Now, we were here, somewhere between
Oklahoma City and Wichita telling each other things I never dreamed of.

Two
wrong turns later and a heated conversation about which
Chevelle
song was better, we agreed to disagree.

When we
found a hotel, he seemed worked up. After dinner, and my own teasing, Dylan
needed something I knew that much. He said it took all he could do not to throw
me on the hood of his car and make my fantasy come true.

“Brown
eyes, I want to touch you,” he murmured covering my body with his as soon as we
were inside the room. “And I want my eyes open this time.”

“Please,”
I said arching back into him, feeling how much he wanted it, too.

We
kissed, slow and deep and then sometimes faster, sloppy-good kissing that I
loved with him. We laughed when our teeth knock together, but there was nothing
funny about how he reacted to me. I didn’t feel like he was racing for the
finish line, like he just wanted to get off. He was touching me like he was
exploring, taking in every curve and sensitive spot. I was beginning to
understand what he meant when he told me that anything we did together wasn’t,
in his mind, a one-time thing.

His
fingers traced the curve of my side until they were at the waistband of my
jeans. We both stopped, just for a second. I was already aching. His mouth went
to my ear; his fingers traced the skin above my jeans, making me shiver.

“Is
this okay?” he whispered.

I
nodded taking his hand and we unbuttoned and then unzipped my jeans together.
His breath got shorter watching what we were doing.

“I
think you should just take these off,” he said, his heart thumping heavily
against my back.

I
laughed a little, looking over my shoulder. He was right there, smiling, sure
of himself, and I took his bottom lip between mine, just to taste, before
shimmying out of my jeans. Dylan helped, skimming one broad palm down the side
of my thigh, until I can kicked them the rest of the way off.

“So
fucking sexy...” he trailed off, his voice thick.

He
looked down at me with this intensity, but his smile was playful. “Has anyone
ever touched you like this?”

“No,” I
squeaked out.

“Could
you ever let someone else touch you like this, right here?”

Shaking
my head, I watched his eyes drink in every inch of me.

I
didn’t know what to say, so I kissed him instead. Eric was always so quiet when
we were together and outside of kissing and the occasional moan of pleasure, I
never had any indication that he enjoyed our kissing or innocent touches. We
never talked like this. He was fast, too. He touched, but he never teased like
Dylan was doing now, with his hand moving back up my thigh, fingers circling my
hipbone and then moving down to trace the edge of my underwear. I never made
the kind of noises with Eric that came out of my mouth when Dylan touched me.

And I
never,
ever
, took Eric’s hand and guided it to where I needed it to be,
but I was doing that now with Dylan because I needed him to touch me or I was
going to die. Dramatic, I know but it was the truth, or so I thought it was at
the time.

“It was
so fucking hard to keep my eyes closed last night,” he said against my neck,
rough, needing.

We
watched together, his palm sliding down my stomach, his fingers disappearing
beneath black lace until he found me, so ready for him. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t
want you to feel embarrassed and I knew you’d never had one before.”

I only
saw his face for a second before my eyes closed right then, but I’ll remember
it forever. He was looking at me like he was getting as much pleasure out of
this as I was, although I don’t know how that was possible. He was looking at
me like I was the most beautiful girl, like I was something he had never seen
before, and that was why Dylan Wade had so much power over me. It didn’t matter
that he was the type of guy that I could forget about myself with because he
treated me better than I would have treated myself.

“Jesus,”
he whispered, almost to himself, as his fingers slipped further down and inside
and my knees opened to let him touch me more. He was so good at this and I
imagined how many girls he has done this with. Probably more than I cared to
know about.

My
thighs started shaking, tense with how nervous I was that he was awake and
looking at me now. Dylan noticed and hesitated. “Are you—?”

“Don’t
stop,” I didn’t even recognize my own voice. I opened my eyes to see him
looking down at me, his lips parted, his eyes darkened.

He
didn’t stop. He kept talking, murmuring how beautiful I was and how good I felt
and if I liked this? And all I could do was remember to breathe and say his
name and when I was so, so close, I told him and his mouth crashed against
mine. He was rubbing and stroking with his talented fingers and then I was
panting and crying out into his mouth. And then, then I was silent because I was
falling apart and it was too intense for words. My fingers curled into his hair
and his fingers curled into me holding me close, slowing his pace to ride wave
after wave with me until I was nothing but a shaking, and gasping mess in his
arms. We stayed that way for a few minutes while I waited for my breath to get
normal again, for my heart to slow down.

“So
much better seeing it firsthand this time,” he said finally, his voice soft.

Instead
of replying right away, I climbed on top of him, straddling his body with my
legs, kissing him. “Thank you.” The words are on my lips, on his lips, as I
whispered them between kisses and in the middle of them.

He
pressed his head back into the pillow, looking at me through half-closed lids.
“Anytime,” he replied, trying to sound jokingly nonchalant, but his voice is
strained. I could tell he would be okay ending things right now but he didn’t
want to. He didn’t expect more, didn’t push and I was thankful for that.

I could
feel his want, his need as he pressed against my thigh. Every time I moved, his
hips involuntarily sought to follow that movement.

Scooting
backward, I made my way down his body. The muscles in his abdomen contracted as
he braced himself on his arms and my hands traced the lines of those muscles.