5
CELINE
Dornan arrives at my door at seven pm, dressed smartly in a light blue button-down shirt, dark blue jeans, and brown leather boots. His hair, which is usually floppy, is styled more formally and pushed back from his rugged face. He smells good, too, like a forest during a thunderstorm.
The way his expression changes when he sees me is hilarious. "What did you do to your hair?"
"I'm a new me." I twirl in my dark green dress, tossing my hair over my shoulder.
"Wow. You look good. It's just a shock."
"Yeah. You're kind of having the same reaction as Elias, except he did a better job of covering it up."
Dornan holds out his hands with the palms facing forward. "I'm sorry. You look good…I just wasn't expecting it."
"Yeah. Elias was happy the carpet didn't match the drapes."
It takes Dornan a couple of seconds to work out what I mean, and when he does, his eyes drop to my crotch before he forces them back up. The splash of color beneath both of his eyes is so cute. "Did you have a good time?" He raises his right hand before I can answer. "You know what? Probably best you don't answer that."
"We had a good time." I rest my hand on Dornan's upper arm, appreciating the firmness. I can't resist giving it a little squeeze. "And I'm sure we're going to have a good time tonight, too."
Wow. That came out stronger than I intended, and Dornan seems slightly winded by the idea that we might share more than just cocktails. I get why. We're buddies. We don't share bodily fluids, or at least, we didn't until I kissed him the other night. It was a frivolous thing that I did while I was drunk, but it stirred something inside me that I haven't been able to forget.
Fake dating is weird. Three men have offered to help me exact my revenge against Eddie, but none of these dates will be the same. I know Elias best physically, Dornan best emotionally, and Travis hardly at all.
Dornan is staring, so I jangle my keys to jolt him out of the daze that mentioning possible sex has put him in. Jeez. Dudes can be weird about women being sexually confident. It's like they want us to cover our faces with a veil and lower our eyelashes while coyly staring at the floor. Those days are long gone, and I won't apologize for going for what I want when I want it. I spent too much time doing what Eddie wanted. I’m not going back there again, ever.
"Let's go." I follow Dornan, jumping into his old but very shiny, silver car. Fastening my belt, I watch him gently shut my door and attempt to fold himself into the driver's seat. Seriously, the dude is massive, and this car isn't sized for a football player's bulk.
"You sure you don't want to trade this in for an SUV?"
"I love this car."
He cranks it into drive, and we head to the same bar Elias and I went to last night. It’s probably weird to go to the same bar two nights in a row with two different men, but it's the most popular place to be, which means I have a greater chance of seeing people who know Eddie.
"What do Gab and Ellie think about this fake dating scheme?" Dornan asks.
I turn to face his profile, taking in his strong, bristly jaw and straight nose. He holds the steering wheel with just one powerful arm, and I enjoy his relaxed control. I don’t need to second guess anything when I’m with Dornan. It’s comfortable and I can relax because I trust him to handle everything and take care of me. "I haven't told them about it," I admit.
His blond brows shoot up. "Are you serious? You guys tell each other everything."
"I haven't seen them." The truth is that I know they’ll be disapproving, not in an unkind way but because they’ll worry about me and the effect these dates might have on our group dynamics. It’s easier to avoid conversations than deal with the possible fall out.
He cuts me a glance. "You know, there are these things called phones, and all you have to do is push a few buttons, and suddenly you get to talk to your friends?"
"Funny." I play with the handle of my purse, flexing the soft leather. "I've cried on their shoulders too much recently. I think they need a break from The Life and Dramas of Celine Lauder."
"No true friend needs a break from their buddy's life. That's not how friendship works. We carry each other through the hard times. No questions asked."
I rest my hand on his huge thigh and squeeze it. "You're a good friend, Dornan. You always go over and above."
"Ellie would probably disagree in this situation."
I cock an eyebrow, surprised. "Why?"
"Because I should be talking you down from going ahead with these revenge games. I should be encouraging you to see it as a waste of your time and energy and get you to focus on moving on."
"I am moving on." I fold my arms across my chest, resentful of imaginary Ellie for her negative assessment of my decision-making. "This is an excellent way of moving on. Elias helped me so much."
As soon as the last part is out of my mouth, I regret it. I don't want to sound manipulative. Whether Dornan intends to go as far as Elias did with me is up to him. I'm not pressuring anyone to have sex with me if they're not crazily up for it.
"Elias is out for himself."
"Dornan, that's not very nice."
He shakes his head, and his nostrils flare. Down, boy. "You know Elias. He never has anything good to say about anyone."
"He had lots of nice things to say about me."
"Because he wants to get his dick wet."
I bristle because, even though that might be true to a certain extent, I think Dornan is being tougher on Elias than is justified. "He has a big brooding bear thing going on, but I've never heard about him being a dick."
"He was a dick about Ellie when it got around about her fooling around in the closet with the Townsend Triplets."
"He was?"
Dornan nods. "He was asking them about it in the locker room."
"Asking them?"
His shoulders stiffen. "Yeah. Poking his nose in where it doesn't belong."
"So, he was curious? Did he call her names?"
"No."
"Did he make bad insinuations about her?"
"He started talking about stepsister porn."
"Sounds like he was trying to be funny."
As we pull up a little down the road from the bar, Dornan unsnaps his seatbelt. "He was trying to get under their skin. I don't like that shit."
I pull the sunshade down to check my face in the little mirror. My make-up is still perfect. Ready for the second phase of this operation.
"Well, he's been supportive of me. Maybe he's turned over a new leaf."
We step out of the car, and our eyes meet over the roof. "He'd have to turn over a new forest to make up for his past assholery."
I slam the door shut, watching another couple head down the road to the bar with their arms wrapped tightly around each other. I look back and find Dornan watching them, too. "It's not like you to be vindictive."
His eyelids lower a little, then he shakes his head. "I just don't want to see you hurt."
When he rounds the car, I glance around to make sure no one's looking. Then I hitch up my dress. "You see these. These are big girl panties, Dornan."
His eyes almost bug out of his head at the sight of my black lace thong, but I think I've made my point. Before he has a chance to fix his shattered brain, I drop the fabric and link my arm through his. "Let's get some drinks, shall we?"
It's weird hanging out with Dornan without the rest of the crew. Weird and easy. We never seem to run out of conversation, maybe because we know so many of the same people and have shared a lot of time together because of his friendship with Ellie. In contrast to Elias, Dornan keeps a respectful distance while we sit across from each other at the bar. Some of Eddie's crew are seated in a booth across the dance floor, and I've already noticed them looking our way. Being out with Dornan is good, but it's not good enough. I need to be seen with his hands on me if Eddie's going to believe that this is anything more than two friends catching up over beer and cocktails.
When we've finished dissecting Dalton's party where we first kissed, and I've finished two deliciously different cocktails, I notice one of Eddie's friends moving closer. I rest my hand on Dornan's knee. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"
With wide blue eyes the color of a cerulean sky, he blinks. Then his head bobs in almost imperceptible agreement. The distance between us is too great, so I slide off my stool, stand between Dornan's beefy legs, and rest my hands against his slab-of-granite chest. He breathes in so deeply that it's a wonder he doesn't get a head rush.
It feels strange to slide my hand around the back of his neck and to feel his palms encircling my waist. Strange but also fluttery and exciting. He's so big and brawny, exuding a level of protectiveness that settles the uncertainty lurking inside me like a dark weight under my ribs.
I lean in closer, leaving it until the last minute to drop my eyelids. When our lips meet, it's a brush of contact that sends shivers up my arms.
Unlike Elias, Dornan is gentle and tentative at first, only becoming demanding when we've learned the way each other moves, and I get lost in the teasing way he sucks my bottom lip between his. Dornan's hands go from gentle to greedy, pulling me closer until I'm clamped between his strong legs. It's good because my knees are the consistency of Cool Whip, and my mind has chosen this exact moment to exit my body.
When Dornan makes a low rumbling growl in his throat, and his hands slide up my sides so that his thumbs are resting just beneath my breasts, I draw back so that I can look into his eyes.
For the first time, I get to witness his pupils spread with arousal, darkening them to the color of the sky just before darkness falls. The flashing lights reflect into them, and he stares at me like I'm something new and shiny and fascinating.
"Was that okay?" he asks.
"More than okay," I find myself replying with a husky, breathless voice.
"Did they see?"
I don't look around to check who's watching us. I'm too caught up in the moment.
"Can I take a selfie of us?" I swallow, trying to fuse my splintered mind again. This is Dornan Walsh, not a Hollywood A-lister. I need to get myself together.
"Sure. Of course."
I turn in the circle of his arms and pull out my phone, holding it high and resting my face against Dornan's. On camera, we look like a sweet couple. My dark hair contrasts with his, but our features seem well matched.
"Where are you going to post it?"
I open Instagram and show him my page. The last photo I posted was with Elias. It hasn't had as many likes as I hoped it would get. I upload the picture I just took, studying the images side by side. There's a remoteness to the image of Elias and a presentness to the image of Dornan.
I glance around, trying to find anyone who might tell Eddie about this fake date, but I don't see a single person. Playing games without an audience is a waste of my precious time. Time that could be spent doing other things.
If Dornan is happy to play more games.
"You wanna get out of here?" I ask in a blasé way even though my heart makes a funny squeezing thud in my chest at the thought of taking him back to my dorm and riding the fuck out of him.
What will Ellie think? It's weird to contemplate sharing this with her. We've been open about our sex lives, but that was when the men involved weren't mutual friends. Dornan has been Ellie's best buddy since kindergarten. Would sharing a night of sexual exploration with him be like treading on her toes?
And there’s Elias.
What we had last night was casual, but that doesn’t mean he won’t have thoughts about me fucking Dornan.
"Whatever you want to do," he replies.
The words my time sing through my mind. What do I want? It’s such a novel question to ask myself. I want no strings affection that doesn’t blast our relationship skyward. Can I have that with Dornan? I think so.
I touch his cheek, and grin with all the wickedness that comes with being selfish and focusing on my needs. "Take me home, Mr. Walsh."
The car journey is relatively quiet. The kiss has settled between us like a curtain of uncertainty. I can practically hear the cogs cranking in Dornan's mind and all the questions he wants to ask me but is holding onto tightly in his mouth.
I stare out of the window, thinking about my sister, Marie. She's never experienced relationship issues. She met her husband in high school, and they settled down so quickly, it made my head spin. Now I have the cutest niece, and Marie seems blissfully happy. By contrast, I've never found a man who really sees me or who's prepared to do the work to see more than what's on the surface. I know I put up high barriers because letting people get close always ends up with me getting hurt. As a result, trusting is hard, and I pick men like Eddie and Elias because they keep me at arm's length where there's no chance of getting burned.
Except there is. Infidelity and rejection hurt whether you’re in love or not.
Dornan isn't like that.
He doesn't have hang-ups that make his corners sharp. The way he thinks and moves isn't clouded by past experiences. He's in the moment, secure in himself and who he is. He doesn't doubt that the world will bring him good things. I know this because he expects good things to come to everyone around him.
It's easy to be with Elias because my jagged edges slot into his, but with Dornan, every time I get close, I feel like I have to smooth over everything that's sharp about me.
I catch him glancing at me out of the corner of my eye as though he worries I'm going to throw open the car door and bolt. He doesn't realize that inviting him in so that he can make me feel less broken is all I can think about.
Always the gentleman, Dornan walks me to my door. When I've unlocked it, he takes a step back, expecting to say goodbye. Instead, I take his big, capable hand in mine and drag him inside.
Before he has a chance to ask any questions about whether I'm sure or whether it's a good idea, I kiss him and push my hands beneath his shirt.
What I find is rippling solid muscle and warm, soft skin. His mouth devours mine like he's been thinking about doing this with me for longer than just a few days. His hunger sends a squeezing wave of need between my thighs. I'm the one who urges him to tear his top over his head. I'm the one who scrambles to untie the strings keeping my wrap dress together. In my stilettos and underwear, I feel sexy and powerful, and Dornan stares wide-eyed, his gaze slipping down my body, lower and lower, with a burning heat that licks against my skin.
"Fuck, Celine."
"Yeah, Dornan. It's time to fuck Celine."
Pushing him back with a hand in the middle of his chest, his legs meet the edge of my mattress. He sits, and I place a leg on either side of his thick thighs, urging him back on my soft comforter. Unfastening my bra is quick and easy, and his hands react with swift reflexes to cup my breasts. I grind against the hard ridge of his cock, tipping back my head, letting my body feel the way. With breathtaking speed, he rolls me to my back and looms over me, his wavy hair losing its formal style and flopping messily over his forehead.
"You're rushing, Celine."
Oh, he wants to take his time.
But taking his time means I have time to think, and I don't want to do that. I want harsh and mindless fucking. I want Dornan to be okay with treating me like Eddie used to so I can get off and then get on with my life. Anything else will seep into my bones and make me feel , and I can't cope with that. I don't have the strength not to crack open and weep.
"I'm ready, Dornan. I don't need warming up. Just give it to me."
"Jesus…" His eyes roam my face as though he can't quite get to grips with this really happening between us.
I fumble with his jeans, my fingers feeling as coordinated as sausages. He finds a condom in his pocket, and I don't object. More talk at this moment only has the potential to destroy it.
When I've succeeded in wrapping my fingers around his cock, I groan in satisfaction. Dornan's big, and his cock matches in every perfect way. He’s thick and long and my fingertips don't meet as I give it three testing strokes.
"Fuck…" He grits his teeth like he's raging, not enjoying himself. Then his hands become frenzied, shoving down my panties until there's nothing between us. I tug his hips, urging him forward as he sucks each of my nipples into hardened points. His cock is so broad that I have to drop my legs wide to accommodate just the tip, and when he pushes inside me an inch, he groans with deep satisfaction.
This is what I need. To be filled to the brim. To be owned by greedy hands and an even greedier mouth. To forget everything that came before.
"Celine." Dornan groans into my neck. His hips grind into me, deep and then deeper. I cling to his broad shoulders, breathing in his scent and tasting his salty skin.
"Dornan." His name on my tongue tastes strange because we're friends, not lovers. But now we're something in between.
He pushes me up the bed, the power in his thrusts knocking the breath from my lungs. He fucks like he plays ball, with dedicated precision and the power of two men, staring down at me like he realized he's lost in the wilderness and needs to find a way out.
I feel the same way.
"Please," I whisper as my neck arches and my whole body draws tight. "Please."
Dornan grunts as he gives me everything he has, and I come and come and come, shattered, and spent, seeing stars in the pulsing blackness behind my eyelids.
He releases with an almighty groan that will probably wake my neighbors, but I don't care. He's glorious. Disheveled and beautiful. Like an angel dropped to earth only to be corrupted by me.
I touch his face, and his skin is burning. He turns his face into my palm and kisses the center, and it's tender and sweet, just like his smile.
"That was…"
"It was," I agree. Perfect. Ecstatic. Glorious. So many words to describe what Dornan just did to me.
But now it's over, and we need to disengage. It's time to go back to the way we were before.
Friends.
Friends who do each other favors.
Friends who've seen each other naked.
Friends who've been joined in the most intimate of ways.
We can do that, can't we?