Page 81 of Existential

THIRTY-FOUR

Dagne

Hooch looks across the hallway and smiles as the distinct sounds of his roommate having the time of his life filter through the door. The start of White Zombie’s More Human than Human has nothing on this soundtrack.

I duck my chin and hide my smile as he chuckles, running a hand over his mouth and chin. Truth is, the sounds are kind of hot, and if anything they’re making me want to hurry this along even more.

“I think the room at the end is empty for the night. The guy’s away for the week.” Hooch thumbs in the opposite direction.

“We’ll give that a shot then, huh?”

He reaches out, taking me by the hand, and leads us down the darkened hallway to a room that’s shrouded in darkness. I hesitate as we turn in, expecting him to reach around for a light switch, but he simply tugs my hand again and coaxes me into the inky black with him.

The door’s wide open, and I couldn’t care less.

“Hey, babe,” he mumbles, pulling me to his chest.

“Hey, yourself.”

He strips me of my bag and it makes a definite thump as it hits the floor beside my boots. Hooch’s hands roam my body, finding their way up to my face in the dark. Warm, calloused palms press against my cheeks as he grumbles in appreciation. I soften in his hold as his lips press down on mine, steadying myself by placing my hands on his shoulders.

His thick, rounded shoulders.

I trace my palms down his arms, stopping to duck my arms outside of his hold so I can continue to explore easier. Hooch’s tongue presses against the seam of my lips, and I tilt my head to allow him to deepen the kiss as my touch slips inside his cut and caresses the ridges of his abdomen through his shirt.

I’ve seen his body in the daylight, felt his solid mass pressed up against me on more than one occasion, but there’s something about the gentle exploratory way my fingertips graze the dips and ridges of his form that sets my body on fire. It’s erotic, sensory, and intimate on a level I’m not used to.

I want more.

He sighs heavily as I step back, pulling free from his hands. But the discord doesn’t last long when he realizes what I’m doing. I kick my boots off, and the T-shirt I had on hits the floor. I reach out to remove his cut and shirt also.

He’s already done it. Sweet, baby Jesus. The heat radiates off his body as I blindly feel my way toward the shadow that stands before me. My palms hit flesh, and I still, the sensation sending my desire into overload.

He might not have wooed me I the most traditional of ways. Hell, he might not have been the sweetest at the start in the slightest. But damn it all if he hasn’t won me over the best way—by romancing my heart and mind first.

I’ve fallen for the man he is inside before letting this incredible exterior win me over.

I’m in love with who he is as a person: kind, compassionate, and loyal to a fault.

The rest of this? It’s an added bonus. I think I’d feel the same way about him no matter how he looked. Still …

“You okay, fairy?”

I lean forward, resting my forehead against his hard chest. “Yeah.” My gut is doing backflips, my clit aching to be rubbed, but there’s no way in hell I want to rush this. I want to savor every last drop of him, make the most of what I’m given in case I don’t get any more.

He gently coaxes my head back and grazes his lips over mine once, twice. “Last chance to back out, babe.”

“No way,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good”—I squeal as he abruptly shifts and picks me up—“because I have plans for you.” My back hits the mattress, my heart racing from the free fall through the dark. “First”—the bed dips under his weight—“I’m going to trace my way down your body from your throat to your pussy.” His knee knocks between my legs, widening them. “And then …” A low, seductive chuckle echoes around me, sending goose bumps rippling over my flesh. “Yeah. You’ll find out.”

I don’t know if I can last. Just listening to him map me out like a delicacy waiting to be devoured … holy hell.

I wriggle out of my cut-offs, Hooch lifting his knee to let me get them down to my ankles where I kick them free of my feet. The distinct clang of a belt buckle is quickly followed by the bed rocking as he shifts around to strip the last of his clothes off.

I don’t know if he’s completely naked or if he still has his boxers on. I’m almost too scared to find out.

He repositions himself over top of me, blocking out what little light there was creeping in from the hallway. I’m encased in darkness again, shrouded by his size, and I couldn’t feel safer.