Where She Belongs (The Forever Collection Book 1) (6 page)

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Authors: Dani Wyatt

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BOOK: Where She Belongs (The Forever Collection Book 1)
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His tongue traces the line between my lips, hungry and urgent but without arrogance. He nudges his wet warmth forward and I open, letting his tongue swoop into my mouth. Something deep inside me cracks open. He tastes like something from a dream. Like strength, desire, with just a hint of something fresh and minty.

I’m lost inside my head, spinning, spinning, in time with our tongues, matching the way they move together. This kiss feels better than any of the times I’ve touched myself. Maybe
this
is an orgasm, because it’s definitely the most mind-blowing feeling I’ve ever had.

His hands cover the back of my neck, drawing me into him as the euphoria collapses over me in waves. This is it, this is an orgasm. I’m sure of it. I’m having an orgasm from a kiss. Leah said they only happen when you have sex, but I know this is it, it has to be, because his mouth is on my lips but it’s affecting my entire body.

My nipples are hard, aching as he closes the space between us and crushes his body into mine. Compared to me he’s a giant, massive and powerful, and a flash of what it would be like to be under him crosses my mind, making me shiver. I surprise myself with a sound I’ve never made before, somewhere between a squeak and a moan.

Decker doesn’t stop. He actually pushes his tongue farther into my mouth, swooping around mine like he is corralling me somehow. A flash of panic swells in my chest. I am here kissing a man I barely know, in his office, with a security lock on the door.

What if he plans to hurt me? What if I never make it home? What if Leah is left alone—without me?

As if he feels my rising anxiety, Decker releases my mouth with a deep rumble. It comes up from his chest, and it almost makes me topple over, because the sound seems to grip me in my heart and down between my legs almost as much as the kiss. The hunger in him is physical somehow, hanging in the air between us.

I’m frozen. My feet feel like they are nailed into the soft, cream-colored carpet, and the logical part of my brain tells me to turn and run because he could do anything he wanted to me in here.

But I stay still, looking at him. It’s the oddest feeling, like being on the edge of the precipice. I feel more protected and safe right now than I have since my parents died, with this man I barely know. After just one kiss.

“I won’t hurt you, May.” He breathes the words and they trickle down toward my ear as his hand glides over my hair and down my back.

I suck in a breath when he stops just above my ass, settling his hand, firm and warm, in that curve of my back. Just above the bigger curve that juts out below.

I clear my throat and puff out a little burst of air just before the giggle tumbles out behind it.

“I know you won’t hurt me. I mean you could, but somehow I know you won’t.” My words come out in a shiver, and my eyes are drawn upward until my gaze rests on his face. I swallow hard as I regard him. His jaw is tense, clean shaven but his dark beard still shows through. His chin juts out with angular lines that contrast with the unusual softness in his brilliant blue eyes. His nose is cocked a bit to one side, and his lips are full. There is a scar that cuts almost through his top lip and I can’t help reaching up to touch it.

I’m dimly aware of our obvious age difference; he’s a man, not a boy, but in that moment none of that matters. He is the most
stunning
man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and there is a quivering electricity running through me that has me wanting to do things I barely know about.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” I blurt out and there is a shift in the tension of his body.

The hand that is resting just above my rear end pulls me closer, while the other one caresses the skin at the back of my neck, sending wild signals down my spine, making the muscles in my core tighten and release over and over. I can’t stop myself from talking, the breathless thoughts tumbling out of me like apples falling from a torn bag. “And so, you said I’m hired? Don’t you want to see me dance?”

Decker chuckles and I keep my finger on his lips as he smiles. Then his tongue comes out to taste my finger. He moves it, then pulls it between his lips until he’s sucking it into his mouth. My mind goes completely blank, and at the same time the hand on my back presses me forward until we are crushed together.

“That feels really good. I wouldn’t expect it to. I would have thought it would feel gross. But it doesn’t. It’s . . .” My words catch in my throat as he draws my finger deep into the wet heat of his mouth and his tongue wraps around it, nearly writing his name on it with its rapid movements. “You don’t even know where my finger has been,” I whisper, letting my eyes start to drift closed as he smashes my chest into the craggy rocks of his upper abs.

My head rests against his chest, and I can feel his breath beating down on my face from above. I am lost in this moment. He takes his hand away from my neck and gently grips around my wrist, drawing my finger from his mouth. Before I can focus another breath or thought, he’s got me around the waist and I’m off my feet. The white walls are spinning around and he shifts to sit me on the desk, pushing his body between my legs.

His voice is ragged. “Yes, you’re hired. No, I don’t need to see you dance.”

“I’m engaged.” I drop that bomb and hold my breath.

Decker

A
girl walks into a bar . . .

And blows my world apart.

“You’re not engaged anymore.”

I don’t know what possesses me to say that, but it’s the truth. The second she took my kiss I marked her as mine, and whatever this animal is inside of me, the one that she’s awakened, he will destroy any and all obstacles that try to stop him from taking what is rightfully his.

Mine.

Fucking seriously. Twenty minutes ago, I was settled on the fact that I would probably die alone. A fucking hundred-year-old virgin. And now I’m ready to skin any mother fucker that might even dare to think they have a claim on her. This sweet pink wink that’s sitting on my desk like a ripe little cherry waiting to be picked.

“What?” She tips her head to the side, and her cheeks plump out with a smile that nearly empties my balls into my pants. “Yes, I am. I’m engaged. For real. I have a fiancé. And so I suppose I’m a cheating whore right now.”

The way she talks makes me want to wash her mouth out with soap and pinch her cheeks with a bawdy laugh. Not only does she look like no other girl I’ve ever seen, she doesn’t talk like any I’ve ever heard. And trust me, I’ve heard plenty in this business. She’s clearly no whore either, and I highly doubt she’s even clear on the meaning of the word.

The sound of the words “fiancé” and “whore” on her lips makes me want to throw her over my knee and spank those thoughts out of her. No fucking way is she engaged. I can see it in her eyes; she’s as fresh as a Sunday afternoon in spring. And if she really belonged to someone else, she wouldn’t have kissed me like she just did. I can taste something in her, something familiar, something I’ve been waiting for my whole life. So whatever this engagement bullshit may be, I’ve just added it to my to-
un
do list.

“Do you kiss him?” I grumble because if any other word comes out of her mouth but ‘no,’ I may just come apart.

She wrinkles her nose at me; she’s thinking about what to say and I know the answer right then.

“Naw,” she says shaking her head. “It’s kind of a strange set up. It’s my family, they are very . . .” She bobs her head side to side squinting one eye. “ . . .
traditional
.”

That’s all I need to know.

I shift closer, splaying her knees farther apart and her eyes go wide. They are silver-gray, wrapped in a cord of black. Alabaster skin just waiting to be tasted, framed by long tresses of amber waves. I’m admiring every inch I can see, memorizing it for later because I intend to map her with my tongue until I know where I’m kissing with my eyes closed.

“Are you going to make me orgasm again?” she chirps, turning her head up to smile at me, as she leans back on locked arms, swinging her feet back and forth.

I do my best to hide my bewilderment over this funky cherub. She’s sugar and spice and everything that I didn’t know I wanted, all wrapped up in mismatched Rodeo Drive clothes.

“Orgasm?” I lean forward, my hands flat on the desk next to hers, my torso twisted in knots, trying to hold back all the things I want to do to her. The sound of that word on her lips sends my craving into the stratosphere. “You want me to give you an orgasm?”

“Yes. That would be nice.” Her eyes flash from excitement to fear. “But I shouldn’t.”

“Yes you should. Someone should give you orgasms every day. Multiple times a day.”

“Oh wait!” She leans back and forth trying to see around me. I’m still stuck on all the ways I’m going to give her the orgasms she wants, but from what I can tell, my May’s attention span is flashing on and off like one of the strobe lights on the dance floor. “Can you grab my bag from over there? I brought you something.” She bites her bottom lip and my dick weeps but I can’t say no.

I twist and reach down, grateful that I don’t have to step out from between her knees to pull the Marc Jacobs Sapphire bag up from the floor. It’s another side effect of being around all these women for all these years. Purses are big talk and I can’t help that I fucking know this shit. Besides, I bought all the girls Marc Jacobs’ bags for Christmas last year, so I know far more than I wish to about fucking handbags.

It must weigh as much as she does and it’s nearly as big. What a little thing like her needs with a purse big enough to carry a full grown pit bull I’m not sure, but from the excited look in her eyes I don’t much care.

I sit the bag down next to her and she giggles, pushing her hair behind her ears and making this little enthusiastic
eeeeep
sound.

“This is weird, right?” She rustles around inside her bag, her voice rising, and pulls out a gift box with a lime green satin ribbon tied around it. “I mean, I’ve never applied for a job before. And, well, I just met you and you kissed me, and that’s sort of weird.”

Her eyes come up to meet mine, and I nod because I can feel that she needs my agreement as she works through whatever is happening here.

And this whole situation is pretty fucking weird. But I’m fine with weird as long as it involves her.

“And I get my first
orgasm
and I don’t even know you, but I
like
you and that’s weird too.” She tightens her knees in a sort of hug against the outside of my thighs and I lose my fucking mind.

She drops the purse on the floor and sits straight up.

“What’s that?” I tease, straightening up, trying to give my dick some more room and sucking in some air through my teeth in an attempt to keep the beast at bay.

“A present, silly. Don’t tell me no one’s ever given you a present before.” She holds out the box between us in two upturned palms, like it’s some sort of an offering. “I made it. Open it.”

She’s full on smiling now and I can’t stop imagining how her pouty, full pink lips are going to feel around my cock.

“Okay, Pink.” I can’t help but call her that, because that’s who she is. I reach for the box but she jerks it away. She’s looking at me through narrowed eyes, like I just told her I can catch her a unicorn.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

She lets out a defeated puff of air and her shoulders slump as she holds out the box again. I take it because now I really want it. I want to open the box and I want to open her. Untie her like a gift and give her part of me.

I tug the end of the ribbon with one hand and hold the bottom of the box with the other. She’s still swinging her feet and rubbing against the outside of my pants with every movement, making my heart pound out a
SOS
below my belt.

I slip a finger under the top flap and flip it open. When I see what’s inside, all bets are off. There is no more weird; there is just fate and destiny, and I can’t even fucking believe someone like me is saying those words, but it’s true. She was meant for me and nothing will keep me from her, from taking what is rightfully mine.

I imagine burying my face between her thick thighs, the sound of my name on her lips and her cum filling my mouth.

“Pink,” I growl, and the contrast between the deep raw baritone of my voice and the word itself is as shocking as what is happening right now.

“Yes, it’s a pink raspberry Napoleon. My own original creation. How did you know it would be pink?” Her eyes twinkle as she speaks. “I had to hold it the whole way on the bus to make sure it made it in one piece.”

I shake my head, then set the box down next to us on the desk and bring my face next to her ear.

“Do you believe in destiny, Pink?” I don’t give her a chance to answer. “I didn’t until right now. Thank you for this gift. I would love to eat it, but there is something else I want to eat even more. Get ready, my little May, you are about to discover what a real orgasm feels like.”

“What?”

“Lift up your skirt,” I growl, my teeth on her neck, taking my first bite and listening to her breathy whimpers. I mark her here first, knowing full well it will only be the first. “I want you to show me what else you brought me.”

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