Nineteen
Dallas
What do I do?
What do I say?
I don’t know how to fix this for her. I struggle to comprehend how she can possibly have held onto this on her own for so long.
I can feel her tension through our connected palms. Both of us locked onto each other’s gazes with tear-filled, blood-shot eyes.
My lips are dry and it feels like my entire body is dehydrating.
I don’t take my hands off hers, her tears soaking my fingers as they roll down her flushed cheeks.
I’m scanning, searching her eyes for answers.
I feel her pulse racing through our bodies.
She trembles as her chest rises, increasing with each laboured breath.
My fingers glide across her jaw, catching the salty droplets as I tilt her face to look at me.
Wherever she’s just gone, it’s not somewhere I ever want her to be again.
I can feel her cracking, like fragile porcelain on an unforgiving tile.
I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know what the fuck to do.
“Annabeth.” My words come in a strained whisper.
“I can’t.”
“You can. You don’t have to face this alone anymore. I’m here. We are here, and we’ve got you.”
“I’m so fucking angry,” she says, her expression shifting before my eyes. I give her a puzzled look, voicing my question without saying a word. “Nothing, it’s stupid,” she huffs.
“Baby girl, nothing you could ever say to me would ever be stupid,” I tell her, my fingers gently tracing the freckles on her cheek.
“You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to just show up and be you. I’m in way over my head. I don’t even know if there’s rules against dating a student’s parent.” She takes a deep breath and continues, “What if Billie absolutely hates me?”
“Oh, Firefly. She could never hate you, nobody could. You’re all she’s bloody talked about for weeks,” I tell her. And I mean it.
It dawns on me that I have no idea how Billie would react if I told her I was seeing someone, it hadn’t crossed my mind.
Fuck. Should it have crossed my mind? What if she hates me?
There’s not a fucking manual for moving on after your wife dies, especially when you have a child.
I hadn’t even considered how this would affect her.
“Billie is home tomorrow,” I offer.
“I know,” she replies.
“Annabeth.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re all I think about. You’re all I fucking want to think about. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about Sam, I didn’t know how. I should have told you before we went to the lookout, before we…” I stop for a moment, trying to find the right words.
She reaches her hand to me, her soft palm a quiet comfort as my mind races through scenarios that have not, and likely will not, happen. My eyes dart across her freckles, a desperate attempt to centre myself.
“What the hell are you doing to me, woman?” I splutter, laughter rising in my chest and slowly easing the anxious panic that threatens to take over.
“Me?” she asks, feigning shock. A bright smile creeps across her face, and, for a moment, the world stands just as still as it did that night I saw her at the bar.
“You amaze me,” I tell her. Her hand slips behind my neck, her fingers twirling through my hair. I feel her eyes linger on my chest for a moment longer than they should before they snap up to meet my own.
“You amaze me,” she says, her green eyes twinkling as she stares into mine.
My hand slides across her cheek towards her ear, meeting her pink hair that’s twirled up in a messy bun. Baby hairs swirl across her forehead and hang loose down her neck. Makeup coats her skin, but not enough to hide her freckles or the dimples that plunge into her cheeks when she smiles.
She’s wearing a cropped shirt that accentuates her curves, displaying a tiny section of her perfect, soft stomach, the gold barbell in her navel catching in the light.
I want to sink my teeth into her hips and kiss my way down her thighs.
As usual, those thighs are threatening to devour the denim encasing them – almost as much as I want to devour every fucking inch of her.
“If you keep biting your lip like that, I’m going to turn into a man I don’t know if you’ll be proud of,” I tell her, my voice thick with lust.
She arches her back ever so slightly, exposing her pulsing neck to me. The apples of her breasts rise with each breath. I do not have the patience of a saint, and I’m trying my hardest not to throw her onto her back, rip those fucking clothes off, and show her exactly who she’s teasing.
Her eyes sparkle at me. She knows what she’s doing. The flush of pink that spreads across her cheeks tells me she’s either enjoying this, or my little firefly is nervous. I realise in this moment that I haven’t had her in my bed before, god fucking help anyone within ear shot.
Sorry Colt.
“Firefly,” I warn her.
She makes no move to stop, instead, she positions herself so her legs drape over mine, and she’s straddling me. Fuuuck. Her hips grind against me in painfully slow motions, the friction sending an immediate rush of blood to my dick. There’s no way she can’t feel me hardening beneath her.
“You got somethin’ to say, cowboy?” she asks, sinking deeper into my lap.
I lunge for her, my hands finding their own way up underneath the flimsy piece of fabric she calls a shirt. She quivers as I slip my hand around the underside of her breasts, goosebumps rising across her skin.
“You’re fucking killing me,” I growl.
Annabeth’s giggle rings through my ears, it sounds like a symphony of bliss. I squeeze her curves, her body reacting instinctively to me as a soft moan slips from her lips. Such a good girl.
Our mouths find each other’s, her lips soft and biteable as she kisses me.
Her tongue dips between my teeth and massages my own.
She tastes like red wine and bad decisions.
My fingers slink between the lace of her bra until I find her erect nipple and roll it between my thumb and forefinger.
The gasp that escapes her makes my cock twitch.
“Dallas,” she moans. More music to my ears.
Releasing her nipple, I find the small of her back. I lean forward and press her against my bed, her legs still draped around me, but now they’re gripping my waist as I grind into her. Her hold keeps me steady, our chests almost flush, her nose brushing against my own.
“So. Fucking. Beautiful.” Every word that spills from me are separated by the kisses I trail across her throat.
Lower. Lower. Lower. Every press of my lips brings me closer to her sweet pussy.
I linger at her pierced navel, taking my time to lavish every curve of her body, nipping the soft flesh between my teeth.
The burning crave I have for this woman is uncontrollable. Her taste, her scent, the way she smiles, the devilish twinkle that lives in her eyes. She was made for me. Every last inch of her is mine. She is mine.
Her hands grip my hair, her hips buck against me.
My trail has led me straight to her centre.
Annabeth kicks off her boots as I unbutton her jeans and peel them from her, taking her panties with them.
Her milky thighs finally release from their denim prison and I see her glistening pussy bare for me.
Gripping her thighs, I position myself between them. My mouth suctions to her, and the sound she emits is something utterly primal. I swirl my tongue across her sensitive bundle of nerves, which grants me another guttural moan as she grinds herself against my tongue. She tastes like fucking heaven.
I slide a finger between her centre, coaxing her towards her climax. My free hand reaches for her breast, squeezing her nipple. Circling her clit with my tongue, I edge her, every movement deliberate. She writhes beneath me, her body betraying her as she fights the urge to shatter.
“That’s my good girl,” I growl into her cunt. Her sweet, wet cunt.
Her fingers grip my hair as if her life depends on it. I immediately decide that I will be taking my sweet ass time with her, savouring every breath, every buck, every whimper. The way my firefly moans for me will be my undoing.
“Dallas, fuck!” she screams, her hips jutting into me, flicking my tongue skilfully across her clit. “I need you, please,” she begs.
My fingers know what to do, as if they’ve been crafted specifically to please her.
I stuff another into her, stretching her for me.
Her walls clench, and I almost unravel picturing her pussy squeezing my cock.
She writhes and pants until she’s gushing all over me, and I’m completely prepared to drown in her.
I don’t allow her a moment to catch her breath before I’m on her again, a squeal escaping her that goes straight to my dick. She swirls her hip, arousal coating her inner thighs. The way her body moves makes me feral; every curve, every inch of her is utter perfection.
My hands dip beneath her, roaming her ass and squeezing the delicious curve where it meets her hips until a breathy moan escapes her.
She props onto her elbows and leans forward, staring into my soul as she watches me lavish her.
My cock strains in my jeans, pressing against the unforgiving denim.
I grind myself against her, the friction agonising as I fight the urge to ruin her.
“You’re mine,” I growl.
Her teeth sink into her lip, the sight of it enough to bring me to my knees, despite already being on them.
I flick open the button of my jeans and my cock springs to life, finally free of the denim prison encasing it.
She takes her time unbuttoning my flannel shirt, our kiss deepening with every pop.
The check fabric falls to a pile on the floor, along with my jeans and boxers.
As she peels my clothes from my body, I realise this is the first time Annabeth will see me completely naked, and find myself blushing. I’m standing here, in all my glory, watching Annabeth’s eyes light up like the brightest stars guiding me home.
“Heaven help me,” she murmurs.