Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2) (22 page)

I reached over and touched him, sliding my fingers along his jaw bone, tracing the smooth, warm path. He bathed. I could smell that same soap coming off his skin. His shirt was plain and white, and his dark green cargo shorts went past his knees. His sneaker-clad feet hung off my bed. His large body could barely fit.

He turned, meeting my eyes for the first time in weeks. I tucked my hand under my chin.

“What did I do?”

I blinked my tears away. “Nothing.”

“I did something. One day you were making a deal to come see me and then you never came back, storming out of my house pissed off. Now you’re trying not to cry while you look at me. Tell me what I did.”

The blankets were in my way. I kicked them off, ignored the fact that I was in my pajama shorts, and folded myself across his hard protective chest. This time, his arms encircled me much quicker. The moment they came around me, my fears subsided. Which only made me cry harder, because there was nothing about this I could keep. He’d leave, and I’d be left here with my nightmares. I should have pulled away, told him to get out. Instead, I nuzzled his chest, inhaling the smell of his cologne. It was the same one I picked out for him the day I helped him bathe.

“Did you spray cologne on your abs too?” I didn’t know why I asked. I slid my hand down his chest and touched his torso, dragging my fingers over the hard tempting grooves through his shirt.

“Yes,” he replied gruffly. “What did I do?”

“Can I smell you?” I tugged on his shirt, bringing it up enough to see a flash of his skin.

“Hillary.”

“Please?” My voice trembled. I wanted to do something that took my mind off of my mind. And so far the only thing that had done that was Dylan.

Without waiting for his permission, I pushed his shirt up more, revealing his abs. I leaned over and inhaled his clean skin, dragging my nose over him. He smelled so good my mouth watered, and my brain fogged, focused only on the scent of his flesh and the heat coming off his muscles.

“The door is opened,” he reminded me.

I didn’t care. All I wanted was to curl up against his abs and breathe him in forever. Before I knew it, my lips were on him. His body heat was fire on my lips. His abs were hard like rocks but smooth like my skin. Beneath my lips his stomach muscles contracted and his breathing deepened. I was being guided by a part of me that craved to forget. I just wanted to forget.

So I kissed him harder, pressing my lips to each distinct ridge until I got to the indentations in his pelvis. His pubic hair brushed my lower lip, sending a flash of flames across my skin. Even that smelled good. Like musk and clean skin. I continued lower, wanting more of him. It was just Dylan and me right now, and everything else had faded the moment I met his eyes.

His hands were on me the moment I reached for his zipper. He grabbed my fingers and moved my hand aside, and then gave me a gentle shove with the other. “Don’t.” He could hardly breathe.

I hadn’t realized my own breathing was ragged until I heard his. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel the beat in my ears. My belly was burning and for the first time in my life, there was a new strange achy feeling between my legs. One thing I knew for certain? I hadn’t wanted to stop. I would have kept going, kissing lower, lower, wanting what he had because it made what I didn’t less painful.

“Sit up.” He pulled his shirt down.

“No.” I curled up against him, using his stomach as a pillow. “I won’t touch you again.”

He laughed suddenly, a breathless disbelieving sound. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”

Reluctantly, I released him. He was right. I’d keep going, and we had both established he didn’t want me to, and I knew I shouldn’t. I couldn’t believe I’d done that in the first place. But he was a balm almost to my fear. He understood it. Being left alone with it had been torture. I sat up and looked down at him, resenting him at the same time I wanted to taste his skin once more. The foreignness of my thoughts was the only thing keeping me grounded. I didn’t react to men this way.

Running a hand down his face, he wiped his smile away. “What did I do?”

His question brought back my anger, my sadness, my everything. I wanted under my pillows again. To fade away on my nightmares.

“Don’t,” he pleaded when I began to lie down. “Can I be honest with you? Harley’s holding Aubrey over my head. I can go see her if you and I go on a double date with them.” He cringed and made a face, as if the idea of dating me revolted him. “Do this for me and I’ll owe you. Whatever you want, you can have it. I have to see my daughter.” The revulsion in his eyes shifted to pure want.

How could I deny a father
who
wanted to see their daughter? Even if I wanted to. I didn’t need a pity date from this man. I didn’t want to leave this bed, let alone for dinner. But his yearning was real.

“I’ll go. But this isn’t a date. I would never date you, Dylan Meyer.”

And then I left him on my bed. I went over to my closet and began searching through my options.

“You wouldn’t?” He sounded amused. “But you would kiss down my abs like they were the best damn tasting things around?”

I ignored him and my blush, picking a pair of baggy jeans and a loose pale pink sweater shirt with my old cheer logo on the back.

“Your ass looks so sexy in those shorts.”

His comment increased the heat burning its way across my skin. “My ass is huge.”

“Your ass is not huge. It’s round and full. The kind you want to grab onto and spank.”

I stilled on my way to my dresser. “Dylan.”

“Sorry. You did it. Shouldn’t have attacked me if you didn’t want to turn me on.”

I turned him on?
“I don’t want to be spanked.”

“How do you know? Come here.”

“Absolutely not.” I turned around, clutching my clothes to my chest. I was suddenly severely underdressed. My shorts came to the tops of my thighs, and my tank top showed off my arms and cleavage. I smelled like I’d been in bed for days. I hadn’t brushed my teeth or washed my hair. And he laid there on my twin bed, long, tall, eyes on me, and making me uncomfortable.

And hot. He was so hot.

“You attacked me. It’s my turn. Come. Here.” He pointed to the floor beside my bed.

I shook my head.

“Hillary …” He stretched my name out with his deep voice. Then he struggled to sit up. I watched in a daze as he got his leg off the bed and then looked into my eyes. “Go close your door.”

Another shake.

He thought about it and then lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his mouthwatering body. “Close it.”

Who knew I was this liable for manipulation by a six pack and a hard body? My feet moved over to my door as my brain screamed at me.
What are you doing?
Forgetting, I answered, locking my bedroom door. When I turned back around he crooked his finger at me. I walked slowly, terrified, breathing hard, on fire, and confused.

When I got close to him, he took my clothes out of my hands and dropped them on the floor. Then he grabbed my hips and turned me around so my bottom was his. I gasped when his hands settled on each cheek. My legs felt hollow, and my brain fogged further. His large hands gently squeezed me, palming handfuls of my
round and full
ass. I couldn’t breathe. That achy feeling was back, and this time it was harder to ignore.

Suddenly I felt something wet and soft on my skin and then his warm breath fanned across me. “Don’t ever call this ass anything short of perfect again. You hear me?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good girl, Hillary. Bend over.”

I squeaked. “Dylan.”

“It’s simple, baby. You kissed my body. Let me kiss yours.”

He was leaving it up to me? Nothing had ever been left up to me. My choices were hardly my own. But the second my body was consumed by flames, and there was a wanting need between my legs, I wanted nothing more than to make my own choice. Even if it was bad. Even if it was the last thing I should do. I bent over slowly, grabbing onto my knees for support. I needed some freaking support.

His fingers pushed my shorts up until they were nestled between my cheeks, leaving my ass bare to him.

“I need a shower,” I moaned, shocked by the breathy tone of my voice. “Don’t.”

In answer I felt his lips on me once more and then a low deep groan I felt all over my body rumbled from his chest. “No,” he said, “you don’t.”

He placed kisses around one cheek, making it so hard to breathe I wasn’t sure I should even bother any longer. His lips left wet heated marks on my skin as he kissed between the dip in my thighs and then started in on my other cheek, turning me into a confused moaning mess. What was I doing?

And then I felt something hot like fire and wet on me. “You taste so good. Grab your ankles. I want more of you.”

Without arguing, I complied. When I wrapped my fingers around my ankles I felt even more exposed in front of him. And I liked it. I liked making the choice.

“Mmm,” he moaned. Without warning his finger trailed over my core though my shorts, making me buck. “You want me to lick here?”

No. I didn’t know. Yes. Please? Lick there. I chose not to answer. My breathing was so loud it was embarrassing.

“Or here?”

His tongue moved to the direct middle of me, licking my hole through my shorts. All semblance of control fell away. My knees buckled, and my chest expanded painfully from my breaths. That had felt so bad, so naughty … so
freeing
. The wrongness made the pleasure more intense, as if it weren’t allowed but I couldn’t help what I felt.

“I want to lick here. Can I?” There was an honest question in his tone. But there was so much deepness in it too. He was just as unhinged as I was. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” I whispered again, giving me the power to make yet another choice I wanted.

The mood in the room shifted. If it was terrifying before, it just got worse. He grabbed my wadded shorts and tugged them roughly to the side, exposing my hole and core to him. I was so far gone I couldn’t even think straight. I couldn’t even remember why I should say no. The air hit me, and then a second later his tongue was on me, straining against my hole.

“So fucking good,” he groaned, sounding like an animal. “Cover your mouth with your hand.”

It was then I realized I was moaning. Loud. Too loud.

I slapped my hand over my mouth and mewed into it, coating my palm with my spit. I didn’t think I could take much more. My need was painful. His tongue was damaging me. My core throbbed in a way I hadn’t known it to. And to make matters worse, I was the highest I had ever been. I felt something building. It was as if he knew it and wanted it as much as I did. His fingers suddenly moved between my thighs and found my vagina. There was an alarming amount of moisture back there. His fingers slipped around until he parted me, finding the most perfect, amazing, stunning spot in the entire world. He rubbed my clitoris in earnest circles as his tongue urged into my hole. A pressure exploded from deep within me. I cried out and let go as a burst of intense, overwhelming need crashed into me. I had never felt anything like it in my entire life. It was the kind of feeling that changed you. Too good, too much, taking me too high and dropping me from above. I craved the impact.

I was lost inside of it. Unaware of what was going on around me. I fell forward and reached out to catch myself, shivering and blind.

“Still don’t want to date me?” His put my panties back in place and then covered my ass. “Stand up.” It took me two tries, but I finally managed to follow his order. “Pick your clothes up and go shower. Go,” he urged, planting a parting kiss to the back of my thigh.

I didn’t look back at him as I left my room. I was so fogged over I moved without thinking. I crawled into my shower and washed my entire body, feeling tender between my legs. I washed my hair, shaved my legs, and did it all with my head in the clouds. I didn’t come down until I returned to my bedroom and found it empty. Regret and need clashed, creating a reprimanding, intoxicating mixture to torture me. I combed through my hair after I dressed, recalling flashes of myself, unhinged, wild, letting Dylan Meyer damage my body.

How could I have let him do that?

With shaking hands, I settled on my bed. I had lost all of my sense. And deep down I had done so willingly. I tossed it away because I wanted this feeling right now. This confident heady feeling making my limbs weak and my fear muted. Within this feeling I was someone I didn’t know, and someone who could not be hurt. I wasn’t a girl who drank a foul tasting beer and asked for it. I was a woman who made her choices and enjoyed them. However, the longer I thought about it, the more my confidence faded, because for the first time I picked a part of me. In its place was confusion.

I was so damn confused.

I didn’t let boys close enough to touch me, let alone defile me. And I damn sure didn’t like it when they did.

An hour ago Dylan was a thing of the past, and I wasn’t sure that had changed, but if it did I had this piercing feeling I wouldn’t handle it well. My thoughts were off balance.

My legs were rubber as I put my hair into a bun and grabbed my purse. I wasn’t thinking straight here. Part of me was aghast, horrified by my actions. And the other half of me was bent over in front of a man, and he was licking me to unimaginable heights. As I left my room, the horror began to win out.

I braced myself in the hall and breathed in and out. Was I still a virgin? I hadn’t even considered what I’d wanted. I’d just wanted to forget. How I got there was a small issue. I hadn’t stopped once to contemplate what that meant for my morals. And it hadn’t been a tame thing. In that room nothing had been tame. He licked my … I couldn’t even think it now. He touched my vagina, rubbing my tender wanting clitoris like he knew what he was doing, knew he was owning me. No one had ever touched me before and they most certainly hadn’t owned me. This was my body and no man would ever own it again.

But Dylan wasn’t like everyone else. He hadn’t done it to control me. He’d done it to give the control back to me.

“Sweets!” Bach roared. “Hurry your little ass up.”