Chapter 13 #4
She sighed, smiled, and rested the back of her head against the wall. Her grape-green eyes met his, so intense and a little feral. “You dismantle me every single time. I’ve never felt like this before … so turned on,” she murmured.
He rubbed her again, his cock sliding against her, and he felt her shudder, her sighs hitting his skin.
Bending down, he captured one perfectly pink, hard nipple between his lips, pulling it to the roof of his mouth before nibbling it between his teeth.
Wren pulled back and arched her hips, lifting them up so that his cock probed her entrance, perfectly positioned for him to bury himself inside her.
“Condom,” Dane muttered against her mouth, slapping the shelf to find it.
“I’m healthy and on the pill. Being a doctor, I assume you’re clean, so why don’t we skip this step?” Wren breathlessly asked.
He normally never trusted a partner to take care of protection, but he didn’t question Wren, too desperate to feel her, skin on skin, her wet heat, her every response.
Dane slid inside her, and… Dear God. It was better than before, better than perfect. Hot, wet, tight, gorgeous, utterly feminine. Without a condom, he could feel every ripple she made against his ultra-sensitive cock.
As he’d asked, her eyes remained locked on his, turning from mint to forest green and every shade in between.
Slapping his hand on the wall above her head, he plunged into her, lost in her.
Her eyes turned lighter again, misted a little, and he knew she was about to fall.
Wren released a light shout, and her internal muscles milked him, her orgasm causing her to sink her teeth into his shoulder.
The hint of pain sweetened his desire, his balls tightened, and pleasure rushed through him.
Dane shouted her name, his heart trying to drill its way through his ribcage. Sex had never been this earth-shatteringly amazing. Resting his head between her neck and shoulder, he thought that it was the kind of lovemaking that implied promises, that hinted at forever.
He had no problem with the fantastic part. But forever? He still couldn’t promise that.
* * *
Wren, now dressed in one of Dane’s too-big T-shirts and feeling languid, relaxed, and hungry—great sex made her feel all three—walked back into his bedroom, rubbing her wet hair with a hand towel.
“Question, Hot Doc,” she said. Dane, pulling a T-shirt down his chest, sent her that sweet, sexy smile she adored.
“Yes, I am a sex god.”
She laughed. The man was not lacking in self-confidence. Then again, Wren was pretty sure he was right. “Ha-ha. I wanted to ask you why you have so many different body washes in the bathroom. Are you expecting a shortage that the rest of the world doesn’t know about?”
He quickly turned his back to her to pull open the credenza drawer, but not before she’d caught a flash of red above his cheek stubble. Was he blushing? Really? Over a question about body wash? Why?
“Talking of stuff,” Dane said, without answering her question. “Why don’t you leave a toothbrush, clothes, and some of your toiletries here?”
Dane’s out-of-the-blue suggestion pushed all thoughts of bodywash and him blushing out of her mind. “What are you suggesting, Trafford?” she demanded, feeling a little thrown. She was already feeling off-balance because of her London job offer, now Dane was implying … something.
He turned to look at her, a slight frown pulling his brows together. “It’s a practical suggestion, Wren. Why the surprise? It’s not like I’m suggesting marriage.”
“I didn’t think that you were,” Wren replied, a little stung by the hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I just didn’t think we were at the point of leaving our stuff in each other’s places.”
“You’re living at Luna’s, and you don’t have a place of your own,” he pointed out. “Wouldn’t it make your life easier to have some of your things here?”
Wren looked away and walked across to the window to look out onto the already dark lake.
His suggestion was practical, but she was reluctant to do anything without knowing where they stood.
That they couldn’t get enough of each other was obvious; they were both suffering from a severe lack of sleep because they spent a good portion of the night chasing pleasure.
Her eyes felt gritty, and she couldn’t stop yawning, but God, her body felt wonderful. Languid and well-loved.
Loved… It wasn’t a word that she should attach to Dane.
Love was impossible, for a hundred and ten reasons.
They would both be leaving H-Town sometime after Lammas and would resume their totally different lives.
They had little in common, and neither of them could see this extending beyond Lammas. No, love was impossible…
Besides, she still hadn’t ended things, properly and decisively, with Alex. He’d been good about not pressurizing her, and only sent her an occasional, how’s it going? or just checking in messages, but she knew she had to cut ties. It wasn’t fair to keep stringing him along.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dane’s shoulders rise and fall.
“What’s the problem, Wren?”
She had to be honest with him … say what she was thinking, but she was reluctant to put words to her thoughts.
And that was strange because she never second-guessed herself; she always said what was on her mind.
But with Dane, she sometimes felt a little tongue-tied, slightly gauche.
She’d met directors, actors and celebrities, but no one could make her world tilt the way Dane did.
It was the weirdest thing. She stopped and put her hand on his arm.
“What are we doing, Dane?” she asked, and waited for his answer.
He hunched his shoulders, but his eyes, when they met hers, were steady. “We’re enjoying each other while we can, Wren.”
Was that disappointment she felt? How asinine! “So, we’re having a fling?”
“Well, we’re way past having one-night stands,” he snapped back.
“No need to get touchy,” she retorted.
“And no need to put a label on everything,” he said, still sounding a little huffy. “We enjoy sleeping together, and we can carry on doing that for as long as we both enjoy it, for as long as we are both in H-Town.”
If she took the London offer, she would be gone in three weeks.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave just yet.
Dane was a factor, but she was also worried about Poppy.
Her best friend was unhappy, and she didn’t want to be across the ocean, so far away from her.
It worried Wren that she’d stopped talking about Benji and the wedding.
She had a gut feeling that Poppy would need her. Soon.
Dane didn’t talk about his work but, she surmised, wouldn’t remain in H-Town long after she was gone.
Was he right? Was she making a mountain out of a heap of sand?
She was better than that. He’d just suggested that she move some clothes and toiletries across for convenience, not that she move in.
She was overreacting, and that rattled her.
Then Dane was behind her, turning her around to face him. His warm hands held her face as he lowered his mouth to hers, feeding her lovely, slow, hot kisses. Her mind stopped whirling, and she held his wrists, thinking that kissing Dane was her favorite thing to do.
She’d play it day by day, moment by moment, if necessary.