Her Dakota Summer (7 page)

Read Her Dakota Summer Online

Authors: Dahlia DeWinters

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

BOOK: Her Dakota Summer
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White heat sprang under his tongue and he pressed two fingers against her briefly before sliding them inside. She twisted on the bed, her moans now short, whistling breaths as he swept his fingers across the rough spot inside. Celeste opened her eyes wide and she raised her hips to bring her pussy closer to his mouth. Wild, fluttering sensations swirled within her, joining together in a tight ball, then breaking apart as she climaxed in breathless, racking spasms.

“Music to my ears,” he said and leaned over her to open his bedside drawer. In her haze, the crackle of the foil packet got her attention. She pushed herself up on one elbow and reached for the pair of condoms she’d brought.

“I have some here,” she said.

He laughed a little. “Force of habit, sorry. We’ll use yours next.”

Celeste lay back and watched as he rolled on a condom. The excitement made her gasp.
Next… He said next…

Warm and fragrant, he pressed against her and nestled the head of his cock at her entrance. She raised one leg and guided him in.

He entered her with a long, smooth glide, settling in to a nudging rhythm that made her sigh. Kissing her throat, her neck and the curve of her ear, he whispered sweetly to her, making her moan with pleasure.

Dipping his head, he pulled at the tip of her bare breast with his lips, sending hot streaks of sensation through her. She raised her other leg, clamping tightly around him as he pushed against her.

Celeste shuddered, a dreamy warmth suffusing her limbs. His breath puffed against her cheek, light and uneven, as he thrust into her, holding her steady with his hands under her bottom.

He made a small sound in his throat between a grunt and a sigh, and surged forward again. Celeste closed her eyes, felt the familiar tension build within her with every forward movement. She gripped him tighter, tangling her fingers in his hair, digging in to the tight muscles of his back, urging him forward. Abandon ran through her veins and all she cared about was the pleasure that he was giving her.

Dakota kissed the side of her face. “Do you like it?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she managed to say.

“How about like this?”

He did something, angled her body so subtly that she didn’t notice a change in movement until a wave of new, greedy desire washed over her. Celeste gasped, the heat rising into her face and she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. Wild instinct took over. The exquisite sensations began building within her, the passion drawing tighter until it broke, pushing her closer to the edge until she climaxed into a breathless orgasm.

“Oh…” she whispered, writhing beneath him. Tiny sparks of fire skittered across her scalp. She released him, her arms aching from the strain, her body thrumming with energy.

Satisfied from her own climax, she was able now to watch him, his eyes half-closed, a line of concentration between his brows. Smiling to herself, she began squeezing and releasing her inner muscles and was rewarded with his look of puzzlement, then helpless pleasure. He tightened his grip on her hips.

“Wha—what are you doing?”

“Nothing.” She continued to work her muscles, a steady rhythm of clenching and loosening until he had stilled his movement, focusing on her actions. He held his face against her shoulder as he climaxed, hips pumping, damp, hot skin pressed against hers. Celeste slipped her hands across his back, feeling the muscles work under her palms.

Celesta lay against his chest, not wanting to leave. She brushed the hair back from his face and kissed him slowly, savoring his taste.

“I can’t stay. I have to go back upstairs.”

Dakota nuzzled against her breasts, rubbing his face against her skin. “I know.”

The doubt that she had forestalled came creeping back, settling over her like fine mist. Just over two weeks left, how would they relate to each other? The dynamic had changed, that was for certain. And whether it was for better or for worse, she didn’t know. She, rather they, would have to wait and see.

“It’s your day off.” She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on her nightgown.

He yawned and walked his fingers up her back. “Yes. I might spend it by the pool.”

She laughed a little. “But it’s your day off. Don’t you want to get away from us for a couple hours?”

“No.”

“Yes, but—”

He cut her off. “Celeste, don’t. I’ll see you in the morning.” He sat up and kissed the back of her neck.

“Which is in less than six hours.” Clutching her underwear in her hand, she kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

He lay back against the sheets and gave her a lazy, satisfied smile. “You’re welcome to stay.”

She watched his hand slide down his flat belly and her body responded with a flush of heat. She moved toward the door, shaking her head.

“If it were up to you, I wouldn’t get any sleep tonight.” Celeste placed her hand on the doorknob, held it in a tight grip, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Night.”

She turned her gaze away from the empty space in the bed she had left and made her escape. The temptation to crawl back beneath the sheets next to him was much too great. Upstairs, she clutched her pillow to her chest moments before falling into a deep, satisfied sleep.

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

 

“Mommy.”

Celeste cracked open one eye and looked directly into the huge brown eyes of her younger son, who stood right next to her bed. “Mommy, Dakota says get up and don’t sleep the day away.”

She sat up in bed and looked over at the clock. The red digital numbers stared back at her, telling her that she was over an hour past her usual waking time of eight a.m. With young children in the house, she never had the luxury of sleeping in—ever.

“Get up, Mommy, we’re having pancakes.” He pulled at the covers. “I’m wearing my rock star shirt today.” Jackson ran out of the room and down the stairs yelling, “I woke up Mommy!”

Celeste threw back the covers and eased herself out of bed. Stretching her arms upward, she tried to rid herself of the unfamiliar aches that plagued her after her recent activities. She grimaced, unsure of whether to smile or frown about how she had spent the earlier part of her night.

After a quick shower and an even quicker glance in the mirror, she dressed and descended the stairs, dragging her feet on the risers. The sounds of little voices and the children’s station on the radio drifted to her ears as she paused at the bottom, hunger making her stomach growl. She could always run back up, survive on water and the stale gum that she knew Malcolm hid in his jeans drawer.

That wasn’t an option. Facing the fact that she’d just had an extremely satisfying—yet highly unethical—roll in the hay with her nanny was part of being an adult. She took a deep breath, arranged her face in what she hoped was a pleasant expression and entered the kitchen.

The sight that greeted her was nothing like what she expected. On most of the previous Sundays before he set off for wherever he went on his day off, she had been up at seven, brewed coffee and made small talk with Dakota as he prepared his breakfast. Now it was a totally different ballgame. He was staying around today, and well…she’d slept with him last night. Not only was it a different game, it was a different sport altogether.

“Morning, everyone.” She went straight for the coffee pot, selecting her favorite cup from the cabinet and filling it halfway with the fragrant rich brew. Sitting at the kitchen table, she caught Dakota’s eye and covered her giggle by sipping her coffee. She had forgotten to put any creamer into it and she nearly gagged on the hot, bitter liquid.

“Good morning.” Dakota placed the container of flavored creamer next to her. “You might be needing this.” Was it her imagination or did he skim his fingers across the back of her hand?

Malcolm took a great gulp of milk, leaving a white liquid streak above his lip.

“Dakota made pancakes.”

“I see.” She shook the cream-colored powder into her coffee cup and stirred it. “What are your plans today?”

“I have a book to read,” Malcolm said, through a mouthful of food.

“Me too,” Jackson chimed in.

“You always copy me.” Malcolm nudged his little brother’s arm.

“I do not.”

Celeste opened her mouth to head the argument off.

Dakota sat down next to her. “It’s not copying if you each have your own book to read,” he said in a mild voice. “When you’re done, scrape your dishes and put them in the sink, okay?” He focused on Celeste. “How are you this morning?”

She turned her head and looked him in the eyes as her children trotted their plates to the sink. “I don’t know right now.” Their footfalls were loud on the stairs as they stomped up to their rooms.

Dakota massaged the back of her neck and leaned close to kiss her at the base of her jaw. “You will soon.” He stood up, pushed in his chair and glanced at his watch. “I have an appointment, but I should be back no later than two.”

Celeste looked up at him. “You don’t have to tell me your schedule. It is your day off.”

“You have my number if you need me.”

“I do.”

 

* * * *

 

After several games of Go Fish, Uno, and Chutes and Ladders, which Malcolm loved, but Jackson found boring, Celeste prepared lunch for herself and the boys and discussed their upcoming trip to see their father. Even as she chatted, listening to Jackson’s pontifications on Star Wars and answering Malcolm’s questions on sharks, she found herself constantly looking at the clock and was disappointed it was just noon when she sent the boys off for some Lego time in their rooms. Her office beckoned to her and she promised herself she would sit and work and not feed the urge to check her emails.

True to her word, she sat in her chair, twirling a pencil between her fingers as she stared at the Wilson print. Often, when she was stuck for the exact word or phrase to offer an author on their work, she would gaze at the print and imagine the warm breezes, the feel of the cotton against her skin, the absence of email. Nothing like her life now.

A quiet tap on the door caught her attention. “Mommy?” Malcolm hovered on the threshold, his chocolate brown eyes trained on her. In that instant she was struck by how much he resembled Charles. “Are you working?”

“No, honey, come in.” She dropped the pencil to the blotter. “Where’s your brother?”

“Sleeping.” Malcolm sat in one of the two easy chairs she had positioned in front of her desk and she took the other. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she said, figuring it would be about sharks or Star Wars or in a twist, shark wars.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Celeste blinked, shocked out of her pat answer reverie. “Why would you ask me that?” Her mind ran over the possibilities.

“Jerry’s mom and dad aren’t together anymore and Jerry says she has a boyfriend now. He comes to the house and buys them model sets and takes them out to dinner and stuff.”

“That sounds good.” Celeste nodded her head. “It’s nice that Jerry’s mother has a nice friend.”

“Maybe Dakota can be your boyfriend.”

What was she going to say to that? “Dakota is very nice person,” she said, inwardly cringing.
How many times am I going to use the word nice in this conversation?
Well, at least it wasn’t a lie.

“I like him. I didn’t at first, but I like him now. I wish he could stay longer.” He kicked at the chair and she was struck by how tall he had gotten. “He likes you.”

Celeste forced her voice to sound nonchalant. “Oh, really? How do you know all this?”

Her son grinned, as if he were about to divulge a deep secret. “Jackson asked him if he liked you and he said yes. He said you were very nice.”

“Is that all?” She didn’t want to pry, but, yes, she did.

“And he gave you a Batman bandage. Those are the best bandages in the box.”

“Good. Next time I’ll buy just Batman bandages.”

Malcolm nodded. “You should.” He hopped out of the chair.

“You’re done with me, that’s it?”

“Yep. I’m going to tell Jackson that you think Dakota is very nice too.”

“We’re all very nice here. Super nice, in fact.”

“Yes,” he said and left.

Celeste wondered how the rest of the boys’ conversation with Dakota had gone.

 

* * * *

 

“So what’s your point?” Celeste divided her attention between the telephone and watching Malcolm, Jackson and two friends throw a football back and forth. Malcolm was the coach, showing the other children how to hold the ball and the proper way to throw, which she knew he had researched online before they’d come over.

“The point is you didn’t tell me you were getting a male nanny,” Charles’s voice sounded as clear as if he were next door.

Celeste frowned. “I didn’t think I had to.”

“It’s my money, Celeste.”

“Don’t you start.” Celeste turned away from the window and lowered her voice. “If you didn’t have this so-called emergency, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Charles could get really touchy about money, especially since she was the one who’d had to pay him alimony for the first year after their divorce. Nothing could strangle a man’s pride faster than knowing their wives made more money than they did.

“So, you hired this young stud to boost your ego? I mean, I’m sure he’s running around in a swim suit, half-naked. I’m sure that gets your juices flowing.” He snorted. “Have you fucked him yet?”

Celeste’s face got hot. “Charles, if you’re finished inquiring after the boys, then I daresay this phone call is over.”

“Fine, Celeste, but if you are, remember, these young guys will get it wherever they can get it. Don’t think you’re so special. Besides, you’re way over the hill for anyone under thirty-five. Pick up the tickets from the travel agent at the end of the month.” He disconnected the call.

Celeste pressed the ‘End’ button on the cordless handset and placed it onto her desk. She took another glance out of the window to ensure that everything was going okay with the children and sank down in her chair.

Hate wasn’t in her vocabulary and she tried to be civil because he was her children’s father, but it was these kinds of conversations which made her dislike for Charles rise to the surface. A few deep breaths helped her fight back her tears of anger, but deep down inside, she wondered if he had a point.
Am I just floating along on a pipe dream
?

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