29. Dylan
29
DYLAN
I give him a pathetic little wave. “Hi, I’m so sorry to wake you up. Is it alright if I come in for a second?” My voice comes out more timid than expected, and I force my shoulder blades together and stand with confidence.
“Yeah, of course.”
He moves to the side, holding the door open for me. I glance around the room, noting that he wasted no time unpacking. It’s one of the many differences we have. I will forever live out of a suitcase and take two weeks to do laundry once a trip is over while he unpacks, washes his clothes, and steam presses them as soon as he’s back. I typically try to keep my opinions to myself, but it’s honestly crazy behavior.
“Everything okay?” he asks, sitting on the edge of his unmade bed.
“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, bracing myself while I rock back and forth on my heels to ease the tingling in my legs. “I went down to the lobby to get the WiFi password, but when I came back, my key card wasn’t working. Maintenance can’t come fix it until the morning, so I’m kind of stranded.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. What time is it? ”
I look down at my phone, which I thankfully brought with me. The battery is also full, thanks to being charged for twelve hours on the drive. It’s a small win that I can celebrate when I’m not about to ask Parker to share a room with me.
“Two thirty. I’m so sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where else to go. The hotel is full, and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my night calling around trying to find somewhere else with occupancy.”
“Don’t apologize. Of course you can stay in here. I’ll sleep on the pull-out couch. You take the bed.”
“No, I don’t want to put you out. I’m the one coming in and disrupting everything. I’ll take the couch. You keep the bed and pretend I’m not even here,” I reply meekly.
“As much as I’d like to, that’s impossible. You’re taking the bed. I’m taking the couch. End of discussion.” His voice is firm, and I hate the way my body betrays me at the sound of it. I discreetly cross one leg over the other and clasp my hands behind my back.
He glances down at my outfit. For whatever reason, I chose today, of all days, to wear jeans and a sweater. In my defense, our flight was only supposed to be a couple of hours. Plus, while it may be impractical, I enjoy dressing cute for flights. That way, I can step off the plane and hit the town (and by, that I mean find the closest local coffee shop and bookstore).
“You need another one of my shirts?” His lips twitch up into a smirk.
Under the scrutiny of his gaze, my skin prickles. I’m fully covered, but I might as well be naked. The boundaries of being professional together are about to get blurred big time.
“No, that’s okay. I can just sleep in this.”
“Be serious, Dyl. Nothing about that looks comfortable. Let me give you something to wear.”
“Fine, but you’re not allowed to look,” I mumble, suddenly self-conscious about changing in front of the man who I’ve undressed in front of hundreds of times.
He holds his hand out to me for a firm handshake as a symbol of his promise. “You have my word.” I look at his extended palm and roll my eyes, biting back the smile that’s fighting to overtake my face.
Without warning, he pulls his shirt over his head and holds it out in my direction. I freeze, letting it fall to the ground. I’m unable to peel my eyes away from his bare torso. Thanks to the colder spring the city has been having, I have yet to see him shirtless after all these years.
He’s muscular without looking like he tries too hard. My gaze snags on his arm first. His biceps are lined with corded muscles and sprinkled with sporadically placed tattoos, short-circuiting my thoughts. Just as I had imagined, there are countless that have been hiding, and I didn’t realize how attractive I found tattoos until right this moment.
My eyes continue to travel over his body, catching on the deep lines that sit right above the top of his boxers. There’s a trail of hair following the planes of his lower stomach, and I gulp, thinking about where it leads.
I force my eyes back up, stopping at his stomach momentarily. The subtle ridges of his abs make my mouth go dry. It’s the physique earned through light physical activity and a balanced diet rather than hours spent at the gym. It’s natural. Effortless. Unfair.
But his toned, undeniably delicious figure isn’t what makes me unsteady. It’s the small tattoo on his chest, right where his heart is.
There’s no way that’s what I think it is. It has to be a coincidence.
Without thinking, I point to it. “Is that…” My voice is ragged, and I can’t finish the question.
He looks down at the tattoo, and his posture becomes rigid, obviously apprehensive about the attention. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a small nervous laugh.
“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting you to see it before I could explain.” His voice cracks and the vulnerability in it makes me take a step toward him.
The small, intricately inked four-leaf clover tattoo stares back at me, and my already heavily beating heart ramps up. If it gets any faster, I’ll be dangerously close to a heart attack.
I’m profusely sweating, and I want to rip my clothes off right now to cool myself down in any way that I can, but I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand that’s dragging me below the surface centimeters at a time.
“After we broke up, I got this tattoo. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s something I spent a lot of time thinking about. I’ve always called you my good luck charm, and this clover is a reminder of that. It’s a reminder of you and the way you made me feel like I had a little bit of magic in my life.”
He pauses, letting the words sink in. “Even though I was the one who walked away, this tattoo is a reminder of the beautiful life that we shared. It’s a reminder of my mistakes, but it also serves as a reminder that I have to believe in myself the way you always believed in me. You’re still my good luck charm. You always have been.”
By the time he’s done speaking, his voice is barely louder than a whisper. I bridge the gap between us, instinctively running a soft finger over the outline of the tattoo. My eyes burn with tears that I’m trying to stave off. I blink rapidly, trying to relieve myself from the cocktail of emotions rushing through me. Sadness. Regret. Elation. Adoration. Nostalgia.
Parker’s carried this symbol of us for the past five years. Meanwhile, I thought that he moved on. When I saw that he was in a new relationship after we ended things, I had all but given up hope.
“I didn’t know…” my voice trembles as I try to find the right wo rds. The weight of what we had lost and what there’s still time to regain is almost too much to bear.
Without thinking, I lean in for a kiss, pressing my lips gently to his. Fuck being professional. This is the man I’ve been in love with for the past five years, no matter how hard I tried to shake the feelings. We lost so much time, and I’m not willing to lose anymore for a job that I’m not even sure I want anymore.
He immediately kisses back, gripping the sides of my face in his hands as I run my tongue across his lips, begging for entrance. He opens his mouth further, letting me inside, and I wrap my tongue up with his. He tastes like spearmint, and the freshness is intoxicating. It goes straight to my head, and it feels like a fire has been ignited in my chest. I’m rising higher and higher, leaving me unsure if I’m still touching the ground.
Parker pushes me back toward the window, sliding his hands down to my hips. He pins me against the window, and I let out a breathy moan into his mouth. I run a hand through his loose, damp curls and catch a whiff of his shampoo. He clearly just showered, and the scent of cedar and mint fill my senses. I want to bottle it up and carry it with me everywhere I go.
“I love you,” I profess against his mouth. All fucks are officially out the window as a result of his confessions and the way his body feels pressed up against mine. His fingers dig deeper into my pelvis, and the pressure sends me spiraling.
I need more . So much more.
“I love you too,” he replies frantically in between kisses. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing those three words out of his mouth.
He pulls away just long enough to pull my sweater up and over my head, leaving us both shirtless. He reclaims my lips, and feeling his skin against mine is enough to make me shudder with desire.
I lift my chin toward the ceiling as his lips move from mine down to my neck. He presses tender kisses down my neck, and I squeeze my eyes shut, soaking in the gentleness of his movements. Before I can get too comfortable, he begins nipping and sucking at my skin, leaving small marks up and down the base of my throat.
He presses himself up against me, positioning his erection against my stomach, and the thinness of his underwear allows me to feel everything. He’s fully hard, and the feel of it makes me whimper. I have never needed to get someone naked faster than I do right now. I want to get down on my knees and show him the same pleasure that he showed me in the elevator all of those weeks ago.
“Turn around.” His voice is hoarse, and the possessiveness in it has me doing as I’m told without batting an eye.
I lean up against the window, and I notice some stragglers crossing the street after a night out. I briefly wonder what they think about us, but all my thoughts vanish as Parker grabs my wrists with one hand and presses them above my head against the window.
I’m completely and utterly at his disposal, and it makes the insistent heat in between my legs grow hotter. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this horny, and I don’t know what to do about it. All I know is that I need him to fuck me.
Before I can beg, he finds the button on my jeans and flicks them open with one quick flick of his wrist.
“I think it’s time we finish what we started.”
I nod, speechless for a second time tonight. He takes his time planting kisses down my spine as he slowly pushes my jeans to my ankles. I feel a soft hand wrap around my calf as he lifts my legs one by one, helping me step out of my pants.
I’m left standing almost completely nude, in nothing but my black bra and underwear. The set may not be the sexiest I own–I was planning on being on a plane and very single–but at least they match.
“You drive me wild, Lucky,” he groans, and the use of my nickname I hadn’t heard in years up until today makes me feverish. I swear if we’re quiet enough, he could hear my heart hammering. The air seems thicker, charged with a crackling tension that makes it impossible to think clearly.
“There are people down there. They can see what we’re doing.” I barely manage to get the words out. I’m met with a husky laugh that makes me quiver.
“Good, let them watch. I want them to see just how beautiful you are. Just how lucky I am to be the one to worship you.”
Suddenly, the air grows cold as I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine. The ghost of his touch lingers, and I would do anything to feel it again. As if Parker hears my silent prayers, I feel his body up against mine within seconds. Except now, there is no underwear getting in the way of feeling just how turned on he is. His length is pressed against my backside, and I’m dizzy with lust.
I’ve never been one to sleep around, but I dabbled when Parker and I were broken up. Every time, I was met with disappointment. When I feel just how big he is–the perfect size, not too big, not too small–I’m transported back to the days we slept together. He was the first guy to make me come, and he read my body like a map. He knew all of the right buttons to push to make me come apart underneath him without fail.
My body throbs at the thought of him doing it again.
Parker gets on his knees behind me and pulls my panties down and off, and my core aches for his touch.
“I need you to come for me this time, okay? I don’t care what it takes. I want to feel you fall apart under my tongue. Can you do that for me, baby?”
I bow my head once in agreement. Words don’t feel like enough. Hell, I don’t trust myself to speak. I’m a marionette at his mercy. He’s pulling the strings, and I’m no longer in control of my own will. He could ask anything of me, and I’d give in without a single question .
His mouth traces up my legs, and I ignore the gooseflesh breaking out at the feeling. He pays extra attention to my ass, spanking me with the perfect amount of pressure. It’s enough to send a wave of pleasure through me, yet the sting reverberates through my body. The combination of pain and pleasure is tantalizing.
Without uttering a word, Parker licks unhurriedly up my center, and I writhe under the feel of his tongue. He doesn’t let me revel in the pleasure for too long, though, because he reverts to teasing me slowly by licking up the back of each of my thighs. I wriggle, desperate for him to continue.
He tightens his hold on my thighs, holding me in place, tired of my squirming. He continues licking, and when his tongue reaches my inner thighs, he takes an agonizingly long time licking up each one of my lips until his mouth finds my small bundle of nerves.
“Bend forward for me, baby.”
The small audience we had earlier has dispersed, and I’m thankful as I reach back, undo my bra, and lean forward, pushing my torso against the window. The bite of the cold glass makes my nipples peak, and I reach up and pinch one with a free hand.
As I roll my nipple in between my fingers, Parker laps up my clit, alternating between sucking and licking, and it takes everything in me not to scream his name at the sensation. He slides a finger inside of me and curls it just the right way. I buck my hips involuntarily, and he holds me in place, leaving me very little room to move.
“Fuck,” I gasp. My walls are already tightening around his fingers, and I know that I’m only seconds away from tumbling over the edge. This has been building up for weeks, and all I want to do is show him just how good he makes me feel.
“That’s it, baby. I can feel how close you are. I want you to come for me,” he growls against me. The licking and sucking become small nibbles, pulling my clit in between his teeth, and he adds yet another finger inside of me. The feeling of him filling me up is enough to send me toppling over.
I see stars as my peak shatters, my body tremoring under his touch. Parker doesn’t ease up as I ride the wave, moaning loudly without a care who can hear us. He doesn’t release me from his touch until I’ve come down from space and I’m standing on shaky legs.
He stands up behind me, turns me around, licking his lips and fingers just like he did on the elevator. The view of him savoring the taste is enough to make me lean against the window for support. He’s unashamedly relishing in my pleasure, and there’s nothing sexier.
When I find the strength, I push him forward and slide down to my knees, ready to repay the favor, but he stops me with a tight hold around my elbow before I can sink down to the ground.
“Not right now. We can get to that later. I need to feel that cum on my cock.” His plea fuels my desire further, which I didn’t think was possible.
I stand, unable to tear my eyes away from his hard length, standing at attention for me. I salivate at the sight. I’m dying to take him in my mouth, but who am I to argue?
He lifts my chin with a hook of his finger, and I’m met with a smug smirk. “I’m up here.” A rosiness flushes up to my cheeks, knowing I just got caught gawking at his dick. I push away the humiliation and give him a cheeky grin in return.
“What can I say? I like what I see.” Without responding, he whirls me back around toward the window.
“Don’t move,” he instructs.
Although I can’t see what he’s doing, I hear him shuffling through his suitcase. My palms become damp, and I release shallow, uneven breaths, unsure of what to expect.
Like lightning, he’s back behind me and brings my wrists together behind my back in a flash. I feel a soft fabric wrap around my wrists, restricting my movements.
“What’s that?”
“If you’re going to wear my shirts, you need to earn them,” he purrs into my ear, his hot breath making my skin break out in goosebumps. I peek behind my back, and sure enough, my wrists are bound with the Neil Young shirt he took from me last week.
Holy shit .
Parker and I always had fun in the bedroom, but it seems like the years apart have made him even more adventurous. A delicious coil of tension is already building in my gut again. Neither of us has touched the thermostat, yet the room suddenly feels exponentially warmer.
I hear the rustling of foil from behind me.
“I’m on birth control. And I haven’t slept with anyone since I last got tested,” I interrupt, starving to feel him with nothing in between us. I don’t mention the sad fact that not a single soul has touched me in over a year.
“I got tested right before I came out here, too. I’m clean. You want me to fuck you bare?” He runs a silky-soft finger down my spine to the aching center in between my legs.
“Yes, yes. Please. Just fuck me.”
“I love it when you beg for me, Lucky.” He tosses the condom to the side and clutches my hip as he lines himself up with my entrance. Slowly, he sinks into me, and I inhale sharply at the feeling. It’s so familiar yet so foreign.
When he’s fully situated inside of me, he wraps a steady hand around my throat and pulls me up so my back is pressed against his chest. He begins thrusting painfully slow, hitting my sweet spot with every unhurried movement.
“I need more,” I mewl.
He cusses under his breath into my neck as he picks up the pace. The tightening of my center grows rigid, and I know it’s not going to take much for me to come apart all over him for a second time. I’m as taut as a tightrope, and I’m moments away from snapping.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” His guttural voice makes my pussy clench around his cock. “Fuck, I can feel you tightening around me already.”
He removes his hand from my throat and trails it down my torso, resting it in between my legs. I spread my legs further, giving him easier access, which he happily takes. He continues to pound into me, his thrusts greedy and deliberate. I swallow the feeling of my impending climax, trying to make this last as long as possible. I’m not ready for it to end.
Unfortunately, Parker has other ideas. He massages my swollen, sensitive clit in slow yet sure circles, and it’s enough to make me combust.
“I’m going to come,” I cry.
“Good girl. Come for me.”
My body shudders under his touch as white-hot pleasure explodes behind my eyes like lightning bolts. The crescendo of pleasure flows through me like a symphony as I convulse.
Parker continues to slam into me, and the force is enough to make my knees collapse. He wraps an arm around my waist and holds me up, never wavering in his tempo. As my orgasm crests, Parker finds his own release, his cock twitching as he fills me up with his load. The only sounds filling the room are his low grunts and my panting. There’s something about hearing him lose control that riles me back up, but neither of us makes an effort to move.
As our breathing evens out, Parker slowly pulls out of me, unties me, and drags me over to the bed, my body no longer physically capable of staying upright. I curl into his arms, feeling smaller and more protected than I have in years. His skin is slick with sweat, and I relish the feeling of the heat radiating off of him despite my own stickiness.
As I shut my eyes, trying to memorize every detail of today, I feel his fingers curling in my hair, slowly twisting strands. His fingers fall from my scalp down to my neck, landing on the curve of my spine. His touch washes me out into the sea of sleep, and right before I fade to black, I hear a soft “I love you” whispered against the shell of my ear.